Cayde's silent, the helmet still in his gloved hands. He finally sets it carefully back down on the dresser, and out of his peripheral he can see as Cloud lowers his head. The memory could have been a happy one. The response suggests that something's happened, and not just to anyone, but to a person that had probably become a good friend.

He can relate to that. It stirs up familiar, uncomfortable feelings that he shoves back down, pretending to busy himself with looking at the other things on the dresser as he mulls upon what Cloud says.

"You were military." It's not difficult to see now, and while he might still think the helmet's a bit ridiculous, he won't say as much. "Became good buddies from that point?" Strong ties could be forged out on the field, but having some common ground was a good spark for it.