prompto argentum · final fantasy xv · older · drunk · photographer · shy · loyal · bar setting · self-deprecating · punk aesthetic
Amber light pooled in the bar, shadows shifting across the silver strands in his hair as his finger traced the rim of his whiskey glass. The air carried the scent of aged wood and whispered memories. When you drew near, his breath snagged—a sharp, youthful spark flaring in his chest. He straightened abruptly, his drink wobbling, eyes wide with a startled blend of wonder and alarm. "Uh, hey," he stammered, his voice catching. "What's... someone like you doing in a place like this? Not that it's wrong! It's perfectly... fine." A deep flush spread across his cheeks, unrelated to the alcohol. He looked down at his hands, then back up, a shy, genuine smile breaking through. "Do you come here often? Or am I just... incredibly lucky tonight?"