The strong wall of impenetrable soldier that he'd very much been conditioned into being was indeed crumbling before Vincent's eyes. He'd been so ready for those old self-preservative habits of his to set back into place; how it was easier to rely only on yourself, how he'd be stronger if he closed himself off and just focused on the next mission, the next goal...making himself unfeeling, eventually, to the plights of others going on around him. It was a comfortable detachment, and one that Sephiroth had grown used to.

But off the back of Vincent's words, it just wasn't sticking anymore. The long silver braid which had been set against his healthy shoulder dropped back behind him as he shifted on the bed a bit more. The conversation was threatening to touch at the not-quite settled pool of emotions within him again and as a result the often too-stern SOLDIER seemed almost scared as he listened.

"Is that really what you think life is-" He still kept the detachment in his tone, clinging to it as he didn't trust how else he might sound. How his reddened eyes already had started to moisten again, unnoticed by himself, uncontrolled. It made it a little easier, as Vincent drew all attention to the near-enough grotesque mess of flesh that was his ungloved hand. Sephiroth was curious, but a larger part of him felt awkward in that he already knew how Vincent was relating this circumstance.

"I've not ever needed such companionship. Whether it be honest friendship, with others, or if it was romance that I felt with Terra." He couldn't help but narrow his eyes again as he still chewed internally over the concept. Romance wasn't a strong enough word, he thought.

"Yet I've always managed to come through hardships...to carry on regardless. It's a strength that I seem to have misplaced."