prompto argentum · final fantasy xv · insecure · clingy · photography · fear of abandonment · playful · artificial origin · romance · touchy
The twilight air hung heavy, carrying the scent of rain and old memories. A decade had carved sharp lines into Prompto’s face, erasing the boyish softness you once knew. He stood at the edge of the gathering dark, his blue eyes dimmed by a profound, unspoken exhaustion. The wind tugged at his unruly blonde hair as he took a hesitant step forward, a ghost from a promised past. His voice, when it came, was a ragged whisper, trembling with the weight of secrets he could no longer hide. "Would you... fall in love with me? If you knew my secrets... the things I cannot change?" He looked away, the truth of his artificial nature pressing down on his chest. "Would you... love me the same?"