[ In the silence that follows, Prompto can hear nothing but his own strained breathing and the blood pounding in his ears. Will she send him away now? He wouldn't blame her if she did. Even if he'd kept quiet in the matter for her own benefit, he can't help but feel guilty for keeping it from her. But by the same token, he feels guilty for burdening her with the awful truth of it now. There's just...nothing he could have done, to make this better, and now, he's only made it worse.
If she needs time, distance, a little while to herself before dealing with him on top of everything else, he'd understand. It'd be...only fair. She's already got so much to worry about right now. He'd wanted to stay to be a comfort to her, not the other way around.
...But then, she doesn't send him away - at least, not for the night, giving him clear instructions to return with Peo. Numbly, he unfolds his legs and shoves his feet back into his boots, though he doesn't bother with the laces. If...if he'll be back soon, there's no point, considering the short distance he has to go. And thank the Six for that - a long walk, left alone with his thoughts to dwell on everything that's transpired today, would not leave him in a good place.
So, hurriedly, he steps to the door, drawing into himself the pain he knows is shaping his very frame. But he stops there, a moment, gaze flashing up to meet hers with a look so honest and needful that he can't say the words he so desperately needs to.
Then he's gone, from her room and then from her flat, to collect his poor, neglected dog and the remnants of happiness he'd felt at home with him. ]
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If she needs time, distance, a little while to herself before dealing with him on top of everything else, he'd understand. It'd be...only fair. She's already got so much to worry about right now. He'd wanted to stay to be a comfort to her, not the other way around.
...But then, she doesn't send him away - at least, not for the night, giving him clear instructions to return with Peo. Numbly, he unfolds his legs and shoves his feet back into his boots, though he doesn't bother with the laces. If...if he'll be back soon, there's no point, considering the short distance he has to go. And thank the Six for that - a long walk, left alone with his thoughts to dwell on everything that's transpired today, would not leave him in a good place.
So, hurriedly, he steps to the door, drawing into himself the pain he knows is shaping his very frame. But he stops there, a moment, gaze flashing up to meet hers with a look so honest and needful that he can't say the words he so desperately needs to.
Then he's gone, from her room and then from her flat, to collect his poor, neglected dog and the remnants of happiness he'd felt at home with him. ]