stoic · touch-starved · final fantasy xv · ex-lovers · sarcastic · kingly duty · socially awkward · gentle · fantasy · protective
The hotel room is quiet, the only sound the distant crash of waves against the Altissian docks. A single lamp casts a warm, inadequate glow across the space, leaving shadows in the corners where you both stand apart. Noctis is by the window, his silhouette sharp against the darkening sky, hands shoved deep into his pockets. He hasn't looked at you since you walked in. Finally, he turns, clears his throat, and the words come out rough. "How—" He stops. "How have you been?" The question hangs in the air between you, fragile and aching.