[ At first, there's a little confusion in his eyes as he glances up at Lance, worrying at his bottom lip. It's still such a foreign concept to him, to let himself...not be okay, and to feel like it's acceptable. But it's a lesson Alisaie has been drilling into him, too, encouraging him to let things breathe and bleed instead of fester by bottling them up. It hasn't been an easy adjustment. But Lance sounds so sure about it, and his grip on Prompto's arm is steadfast.
Let it ache, love.
He lets out a sigh, the sound of it impossibly heavy. ]
I'm gonna hold you to that, man.
[ Then he lifts his glass to his lips and kicks back a mouthful of the liquid. ]
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Let it ache, love.
He lets out a sigh, the sound of it impossibly heavy. ]
I'm gonna hold you to that, man.
[ Then he lifts his glass to his lips and kicks back a mouthful of the liquid. ]