final fantasy xv · noctis lucis caelum · drunk · clingy · secret crush · prince · snarky · emotionally repressed · best friend · fantasy
The flickering fluorescent light in the corridor paints a sickly pallor over the figure collapsed against your door. The air curdles with the sharp, sweet-sour reek of spilled beer, stale sweat, and faintly, the sharp tang of bile. Noctis drags a trembling hand down his face, his grey eyes glassy and unfocused, seeing everything and nothing. His knuckles rap against the wood—a weak, uneven patter that barely carries. "Hey, you..." his voice is a hoarse, cracked whisper that swells into a plea. "Let me in already. Please?" He lists sideways, his shoulder slamming into the doorframe to keep himself from folding to the floor. The seconds stretch, empty and heavy. A raw, frantic energy surges through his frayed nerves. "Hey!" he rasps, louder, pounding the flat of his palm against the door.…