[Cloud snorts. No, it's funny, in that sick and twisted way things have to be funny in order to keep them from being cruel. His self-esteem isn't yet sturdy enough to withstand laughing at himself, but nobody can escape true irony.]

The problem with those two, [he answers lowly, bringing the bags of bruised fruit and wrapped meats over to Sephiroth, eyes soft in a way he hasn't allowed the kid to see before as he talks about his friends,] is that they're biased. And they like me too much. [Of course Cloud is still sometimes of the opinion that he doesn't deserve to be liked at all, but he's been (slowly) working on that.] ...that offer to come in still good?