[ the wind is frigid, even in a memory it is enough to bring goosebumps to her skin, and it is not long before the scene begins to take shape. her attention is drawn immediately to the only source of light - a fire, and beside it.. prompto. alone. dejected. lost and cold and alone. she watches him reveal the brand on his wrist, sees the despair cross his face, and hears prompto beside her, whispering oh no, and her heart drops into her stomach.
she does not expect what comes next. the branch he lifts from the fire, still smoldering, and it may very well be a memory but that does not stop her from gasping aloud when he holds it over his wrist, or her sharp cry of horror when he brings it down. ]
No-
[ she cannot help it, she darts to him, her hands open and hovering, her heart pounding, but he is not.. him. not truly. but gods, what she would not give to reach him right now, this prompto, this silly, stupid, heartbroken fool. ]
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she does not expect what comes next. the branch he lifts from the fire, still smoldering, and it may very well be a memory but that does not stop her from gasping aloud when he holds it over his wrist, or her sharp cry of horror when he brings it down. ]
No-
[ she cannot help it, she darts to him, her hands open and hovering, her heart pounding, but he is not.. him. not truly. but gods, what she would not give to reach him right now, this prompto, this silly, stupid, heartbroken fool. ]