It hasn't been long since he was shot with one of those wayward cupid arrows. Emet-Selch is only just now beginning to feel the effects of a flush creeping into his face. Stubborn old man that he is though, he is soldiering through the problem and refusing to acknowledge it - and probably will until he can't ignore it any longer.

Unfortunately that means his ire will be freely directed at anyone who bothers him. Including Zidane.

"Don't call me that," he growls, turning to glare at the boy.