"Me too," Sephiroth finds himself saying. He knows this man, his face, and that they are friends. Those are rare and precious to him. He'd been immediately driven into action. There's something else too, something he can't quite put his finger on.

Sephiroth follows that motion with his eyes and asks, "are you alright?"

Beads of moisture slip down the drink and onto his glove. He sets this down and idly flicks his hand.