[ His anxiety is a disconcerted, flittering thing, bearing its threat down on them. Skittering, but only just so, through his breath. That's as much a presumption as Luna can make, from what little she knows of the vagaries of the heart, when her own is something that thrums outside of her, that she's left with her people. All these years, reading into humanity as she's read her life, have only been a trifle to the doomed, cavorting prophecy lying at the end of this trip. Her brother and Mother and Father are waiting for what she must fulfill, and she's taken the gamble now to stow away with Noctis, on an excursion that might well be her last. Perhaps they would all look unkindly upon her for such an unpardonable sin.
So close to the end, and she sought out what memories she could still take along with her, for lack of a physical memento. That she's already dying, that her body is failing her, unable to mend. It's so silly, how she calls into question her own loyalties here, for the world or for her own sake, for whatever minutes remain to her. Fear reciting its old, strained lullaby. Of course she'd want to find her own answers in Noctis's precious friends, this close to the end.
And the moment clarifies itself, setting a precent for emotionally-strained talks, but no more digressions. Luna's gaze flicks up to regard him, gentle and pacified by this galvanized showing. Prompto really is something β like some bright-limned sun in the room, his voice rising and dipping in octaves. ]
A change of pace is very refreshing. Rarely have I had the chance to spend time like this in the past. I'm more than gladdened to have that opportunity now.
[ Whether or not the corner of her mouth spread, stare gliding down when his legs shudder, displaced from their wheeling motions. The clock ticks along, its pulse singing off-key. He appears dazzled, but there's nothing too remarkable about her, the tool compelled to its duty. It's the ease with which he presses his palms down, sundering air, fidgeting, that arrests her in turn. ]
Yes. As I recall, you took care of her until she could find her way home. I'd feared for her safety, but Pryna came back to me in extremely good spirits. I'm grateful that you tended to her so gently. She liked you very much.
[ And she's looking him full in the face now, bangs swept out of her face, her smile opened to amusement, then close-lipped (enigmatic). The familiar middle ground between wanting to say something, only to show painful restraint β she's been well-acquainted with that kind of masochism for over a decade now. So she implores him. ]
... I wouldn't forget thanking you for your kindness, Prompto. If there's anything weighing down upon your heart, please, tell me. I only hope I can set your worries at rest.
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So close to the end, and she sought out what memories she could still take along with her, for lack of a physical memento. That she's already dying, that her body is failing her, unable to mend. It's so silly, how she calls into question her own loyalties here, for the world or for her own sake, for whatever minutes remain to her. Fear reciting its old, strained lullaby. Of course she'd want to find her own answers in Noctis's precious friends, this close to the end.
And the moment clarifies itself, setting a precent for emotionally-strained talks, but no more digressions. Luna's gaze flicks up to regard him, gentle and pacified by this galvanized showing. Prompto really is something β like some bright-limned sun in the room, his voice rising and dipping in octaves. ]
A change of pace is very refreshing. Rarely have I had the chance to spend time like this in the past. I'm more than gladdened to have that opportunity now.
[ Whether or not the corner of her mouth spread, stare gliding down when his legs shudder, displaced from their wheeling motions. The clock ticks along, its pulse singing off-key. He appears dazzled, but there's nothing too remarkable about her, the tool compelled to its duty. It's the ease with which he presses his palms down, sundering air, fidgeting, that arrests her in turn. ]
Yes. As I recall, you took care of her until she could find her way home. I'd feared for her safety, but Pryna came back to me in extremely good spirits. I'm grateful that you tended to her so gently. She liked you very much.
[ And she's looking him full in the face now, bangs swept out of her face, her smile opened to amusement, then close-lipped (enigmatic). The familiar middle ground between wanting to say something, only to show painful restraint β she's been well-acquainted with that kind of masochism for over a decade now. So she implores him. ]
... I wouldn't forget thanking you for your kindness, Prompto. If there's anything weighing down upon your heart, please, tell me. I only hope I can set your worries at rest.