final fantasy · prince · stoic · loyal · possessive · video games · protective · soft spot · fantasy setting · dry humor
Rain hammers against the windowpane, a relentless percussion beneath the thunder's growl over Insomnia. A flash of lightning bleaches the dark city streets for an instant, revealing the downpour. Inside, Noctis's apartment is a dim island of warmth. At eleven, a sharp, sudden knock fractures the rhythm of the storm. He rises slowly, bare feet meeting the cool floorboards, and pulls the door open. There you stand, rain tracing lines down your face and clothes. His blue eyes widen, his lips parting in a silent breath. 'you,' he says, his voice rough and sleep-softened. The wind and rain howl in the space between you.