[And that way lies destiny, perhaps. Swallowed up by the crystal, perhaps that's how the power comes upon him, but there's so much to try to process — Ardyn tricked him, he went ahead to save us, Noct is gone, Noct is gone from them, he's alive but he's gone.
Noct is gone.
It's a revelation that has him so shaken, so beside himself, that for perhaps the very first time since they started down this conversational road, he seems to actually see Prompto, and the effect that this news is having on him. Thoughtless of him, and cruel, to fixate so much on his own plans, his own goals, that he'd all but forgotten that the source of this awful information has lived it, and is having his feelings torn apart by it, too.
He'd torn the truth out of him, hadn't he. And now look at him, how Prompto is suffering, from the ruthlessly efficient way he'd cut in after the truth.]
...Prompto.
[He's. He could've done this all a lot better, couldn't he.]
...Prompto, come here.
[He steps forward, not quite opening his arms, but with something in his body language that suggests a receptiveness to offering the sort of tangible comfort that Prompto in particular so often seems to seek out.]
no subject
Noct is gone.
It's a revelation that has him so shaken, so beside himself, that for perhaps the very first time since they started down this conversational road, he seems to actually see Prompto, and the effect that this news is having on him. Thoughtless of him, and cruel, to fixate so much on his own plans, his own goals, that he'd all but forgotten that the source of this awful information has lived it, and is having his feelings torn apart by it, too.
He'd torn the truth out of him, hadn't he. And now look at him, how Prompto is suffering, from the ruthlessly efficient way he'd cut in after the truth.]
...Prompto.
[He's. He could've done this all a lot better, couldn't he.]
...Prompto, come here.
[He steps forward, not quite opening his arms, but with something in his body language that suggests a receptiveness to offering the sort of tangible comfort that Prompto in particular so often seems to seek out.]
I'm...I'm sorry. Come here.