[ It's not flattery, despite the way he attempts (poorly) to pitch his tone to match hers. She's a force of nature, and though he's sure she wouldn't want to rehash her time with the Empire a good deal of his admiration springs from how readily she'd left them when things started to come to light. He can't imagine the Empire looks kindly on defectors, and the force of will that must have been necessary not only to leave but to continue working for the greater good in that distinctive ship of hers is positively breathtaking.
If Noctis had been traveling with three Aranea Highwinds, he would doubtless still be with them.
That's not exactly a thought that cheers him, and he allows himself to be lead to the bed more out distraction than actual willingness. Still, when he finds it he sits obediently, and tries not to preface his question with another sigh. He's painfully aware that he's not very good company, at present; he'd reduced Prompto to tears with carelessly chosen words earlier, which had both shocked him (Prompto, usually so determined to keep his chin up and so very reluctant to allow his hurts to become anyone else's) and added to the curdled weight of guilt in his stomach. Given that particular display, asking for company is a poor reward for her care, and yet. ]
And what are your plans for the evening, once you're done dispensing common sense where you find it lacking?
no subject
[ It's not flattery, despite the way he attempts (poorly) to pitch his tone to match hers. She's a force of nature, and though he's sure she wouldn't want to rehash her time with the Empire a good deal of his admiration springs from how readily she'd left them when things started to come to light. He can't imagine the Empire looks kindly on defectors, and the force of will that must have been necessary not only to leave but to continue working for the greater good in that distinctive ship of hers is positively breathtaking.
If Noctis had been traveling with three Aranea Highwinds, he would doubtless still be with them.
That's not exactly a thought that cheers him, and he allows himself to be lead to the bed more out distraction than actual willingness. Still, when he finds it he sits obediently, and tries not to preface his question with another sigh. He's painfully aware that he's not very good company, at present; he'd reduced Prompto to tears with carelessly chosen words earlier, which had both shocked him (Prompto, usually so determined to keep his chin up and so very reluctant to allow his hurts to become anyone else's) and added to the curdled weight of guilt in his stomach. Given that particular display, asking for company is a poor reward for her care, and yet. ]
And what are your plans for the evening, once you're done dispensing common sense where you find it lacking?