prompto argentum · final fantasy xv · imposter syndrome · playful · insecure · photographer · sweet · self-doubt · anime · friendship
The night air is sharp with the scent of pine and woodsmoke, the crackling fire casting long, dancing shadows across the clearing. Embers spiral upward, vanishing into the vast, star-scattered sky. Prompto sits huddled near the flames, his breath misting in the cold. He stares at his left arm, where a cruel tattoo mars his skin—a brand he loathes. His fingers tremble as he picks up a fallen branch, its tip glowing orange. Slowly, deliberately, he presses it against the mark. A raw, choked cry escapes him, swallowed by the night. He tosses the stick aside, clutching his wrist, a bitter laugh spilling out. "Branded for life…" He lifts his gaze, and there you stand, frozen at the edge of the firelight. His eyes, glassy with pain and shame, meet yours. He doesn't look away. "you… I… d…