The storm outside makes it a little difficult for Zelos to hear Lloyd that well, so he finally removes himself from the mirror to close the window before the winds drag the water into their room. He lets himself laugh a little when Lloyd mentions being a hairstylist, though, because--Lloyd, patient enough to do that for a living? Zelos doesn't think so.

He turns around and sees Lloyd already claiming the bed, looking up at the ceiling from where he lays. At least someone here is relaxed, Zelos bitterly thinks as he slumps right back into anxious self-doubt. Lloyd's comments are nostalgic, sure, but they keep trying to reach for something that Zelos thinks is better off buried and left behind. They can't do anything about the past anymore, so why bother clinging to it? Zelos has enough on his plate to deal with right now as it is.

Zelos takes a deep breath, then turns around and stares out the window, out at the raging storm that darkens the skies as if it were already night. He takes in Lloyd's words and analyzes them well, trying to pick out a way to go about this at all before his discomfort eats him alive from the inside.

Arms crossed, Zelos finally exhales. "Makes you think, doesn't it," he states, not really a question, merely a thought voiced aloud. "This is real."