Of course. Of course, he should have known, should have gotten it quicker. It hasn't happened yet for him, the day when everything irreversibly changed; for Noctis and for Ignis. The covenant had been forged at such a high price, tragedy wrought upon them in one fell swoop. He still doesn't know just how Ignis had lost his sight, but Noctis isn't stupid; the extent of his injuries suggests a specific occurrence, targeted, not collateral. And if someone had hurt him on purpose, if he had come for Ignis the way he had gone for Luna --
-- it's hotter than Lestallum ever was, but Ignis' gentle, heartfelt words leave him cold, his chest impossibly tight. Ignis doesn't smile or laugh like this anymore, after that day. He doesn't get to see again, no matter what he tells them to make them feel better.
He looks up at him, at those impossibly clear green eyes, so warm and bright and full of life, and he raises his hand instinctively, briefly, before he lets it fall. The words catch in his throat, and something burns behind his eyelids. Funny how he hasn't just stopped to really look, before. Funny how he has a second chance to recognise just how much Ignis had sacrificed for his sake. I'm sorry, he wants to say. Sorry for so many, many things. ]
Yeah. [ He says instead, and thinks that maybe, maybe he can prevent this. If Ignis stays here in Hadriel, this place outside of time -- if he doesn't leave, he will stay safe. Unhurt. Noctis tries for a smile, but it doesn't come easy. It's strained, slipping away like water. ]
Sorry. [ He continues, because he's sure his emotions are written all over his face and he knows he needs to come up with an excuse, and quickly. He's not like himself, he knows. He's not the man that he was in Cape Caem. So he lies. ] Just a little tired.
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Of course. Of course, he should have known, should have gotten it quicker. It hasn't happened yet for him, the day when everything irreversibly changed; for Noctis and for Ignis. The covenant had been forged at such a high price, tragedy wrought upon them in one fell swoop. He still doesn't know just how Ignis had lost his sight, but Noctis isn't stupid; the extent of his injuries suggests a specific occurrence, targeted, not collateral. And if someone had hurt him on purpose, if he had come for Ignis the way he had gone for Luna --
-- it's hotter than Lestallum ever was, but Ignis' gentle, heartfelt words leave him cold, his chest impossibly tight. Ignis doesn't smile or laugh like this anymore, after that day. He doesn't get to see again, no matter what he tells them to make them feel better.
He looks up at him, at those impossibly clear green eyes, so warm and bright and full of life, and he raises his hand instinctively, briefly, before he lets it fall. The words catch in his throat, and something burns behind his eyelids. Funny how he hasn't just stopped to really look, before. Funny how he has a second chance to recognise just how much Ignis had sacrificed for his sake. I'm sorry, he wants to say. Sorry for so many, many things. ]
Yeah. [ He says instead, and thinks that maybe, maybe he can prevent this. If Ignis stays here in Hadriel, this place outside of time -- if he doesn't leave, he will stay safe. Unhurt. Noctis tries for a smile, but it doesn't come easy. It's strained, slipping away like water. ]
Sorry. [ He continues, because he's sure his emotions are written all over his face and he knows he needs to come up with an excuse, and quickly. He's not like himself, he knows. He's not the man that he was in Cape Caem. So he lies. ] Just a little tired.