[ He hesitates only for a moment, caught between the instinct to see, to feel for himself that she's all right, and the near-certainty that she could be a mirage, a trick of the light. There is no such thing as ghosts, although what with everything that's happened, Noctis isn't sure he can think in such absolutes any longer.
She's still beautiful in this light, up close like this, and soon his instincts to draw near overwhelm everything else, even, for the moment, the guilt that had been lodged in his chest, a heavy, inconsolable thing. Closing the distance between them in mere steps, he stops just before her. This is no dream; if it were, the last thing he'd expect her to be is in an arena surrounded by carcasses of dead monsters -- dreams are usually more poetic than that.
And in here, she's not bidding him farewell. ] Are you -- all right?
[ The words come out clumsy, and he grimaces. He expects a better showing than this, really; then again, it's not every day that you see someone you've failed so glad to see you. ] What's the last thing you remember?
ILU
She's still beautiful in this light, up close like this, and soon his instincts to draw near overwhelm everything else, even, for the moment, the guilt that had been lodged in his chest, a heavy, inconsolable thing. Closing the distance between them in mere steps, he stops just before her. This is no dream; if it were, the last thing he'd expect her to be is in an arena surrounded by carcasses of dead monsters -- dreams are usually more poetic than that.
And in here, she's not bidding him farewell. ] Are you -- all right?
[ The words come out clumsy, and he grimaces. He expects a better showing than this, really; then again, it's not every day that you see someone you've failed so glad to see you. ] What's the last thing you remember?