[ There's no helping the way he dissolves under her tender touch, gestures so simple and sweet, and yet they bring an impossible warmth to his heart, and it's unthinkable that he could had ever known a time in his life where he didn't have this - didn't have her - or that he could come to know such a time again. There'd always been the quiet fear in the back of his heart, that Prompto or Alisaie or both of them could end up back in stasis and it'd be like this exquisitely wonderful thing between them had never happened at all. And yet this...the very idea that his life could go on here without her, not because of stasis, but because of something far worse, is unfathomable. But it will. He knows it will, just as Noctis had continued to walk tall, even after losing Lunafreya. He'd hurt so badly then, and Prompto had nothing but the deepest sympathies for his friend. But he never understood - couldn't have understood - how it felt to lose the one you love.
Until now.
It's...a strange thought. Like living without the sun shining, without the warm breeze on your face, without your heart beating for a real purpose. But he'd told her...he'd be happy, and that was true. This time they've had together, pulled from adjacent worlds to become friends and then lovers, however brief, means the world to him, and it always will. To love someone like her, and feel so completely loved in return...how could he be anything but happy?
In the end, he only has the strength to cry for so long, his body fatigued and waiting for the sweet release of sleep that he still holds out on. Under the warmth of her kisses, her fingertips, he starts to dry out, his breathing still shallow but more even now. He just...doesn't have the energy to cry any longer, though the ache is still there, blistering and angry and red. And in the haze that follows, his free hand lifts to her face, to trace her jaw, her lips, the arc of her cheeks and her ears, like he's afraid he'll forget her face unless he memorizes it with his touch.
As his thumb passes over her bottom lip, still chapped and crusted with blood, he finally finds his voice again. ]
no subject
Until now.
It's...a strange thought. Like living without the sun shining, without the warm breeze on your face, without your heart beating for a real purpose. But he'd told her...he'd be happy, and that was true. This time they've had together, pulled from adjacent worlds to become friends and then lovers, however brief, means the world to him, and it always will. To love someone like her, and feel so completely loved in return...how could he be anything but happy?
In the end, he only has the strength to cry for so long, his body fatigued and waiting for the sweet release of sleep that he still holds out on. Under the warmth of her kisses, her fingertips, he starts to dry out, his breathing still shallow but more even now. He just...doesn't have the energy to cry any longer, though the ache is still there, blistering and angry and red. And in the haze that follows, his free hand lifts to her face, to trace her jaw, her lips, the arc of her cheeks and her ears, like he's afraid he'll forget her face unless he memorizes it with his touch.
As his thumb passes over her bottom lip, still chapped and crusted with blood, he finally finds his voice again. ]
Can I ask one more favor you?