daemonized | RECOLLE IC CONTACT.

hot cocoa
please

Consider it done. It'll be ready for you when you get here.

[And, as he says, it will be.]

[when prompto arrives, he knocks on the door and waits to be invited inside. he tries to keep his usual cheer, but finds it to be difficult. it's fine, though, because he had been open to ardyn about feeling upset.]

[at a time like this, he really doesn't want to be alone, without human contact. at the very least, whenever he visits ardyn in his home--sits in the living room, on his usual spot on the couch--he can receive an actual answer to what he says. unlike the unresponsiveness of his best friend. unlike the sound of monitoring machines beeping mockingly, it seems.]

[so he is, once more, in the professor's living room, finishing up his cup of hot cocoa (he drank it almost all in one go). he heads back to the kitchen to wash the cup and leave it to dry in the sink, but he knows that soon as he sits on the couch, ardyn's going to want to talk to him about it.]

[...at least, if he weren't so anxious. for now, he just paces around the space, as if he had never seen the bookshelves and paintings before.]

Thanks for the drink.

[prompto's fidgeting; cracking his fingers and rubbing his hands tightly together.]

[uh]

I didn't wanna go back to the apartment like this.

[rubbing at the back of his neck now. like this: deathly afraid, upset, with anxiety taking over]

[Oh, chocobo child... The deflation in Prompto's usual cheer is more than obvious. Even to someone who knows Prompto less, the energy wanes. The smile is forced. He can see that quite clearly.

He lets the boy pace around in his living room, all anxiousness. Ardyn remains seated and unmoving, as if purposefully trying to be the calm in the center of the figurative storm.]

Then don't. You're more than welcome to stay here until you feel like yourself again. And... if talking about it will help, even just a little, I'm willing to listen.

[prompto's expression falls between a smile and a grimace]

I think if I started talking about it I'd start crying.

[that's how raw he feels right now, with his fears and anxieties, and in how he's not afraid to present his vulnerabilities so openly (this may come to bite him in the ass, several regains down the line).]

[shrugging and sighing, he stops where he stands, and drops down to the floor--and onto his back, arms spread out]

[at least like this his hard breathing seems to be calming down. at least he's trying to centre himself!]

...I wish they'd let me stay with him throughout the night. It's my best friend. I should be allowed, right? What if he wakes up? Alone?

That's fine, too, you know.

[If he needed to cry, then he'd not judge. Sometimes raw feelings were meant to be spilled forth, especially for a young man as open and sensitive as Prompto. Some individuals were not meant to keep such things bottled up, for fear of starting to undo at the seams.

He doesn't so much as blink as Prompto spreads out on the floor, all limbs. Ardyn leans forward, elbows on his knees.]

I wish I could offer comfort regarding that. All I can say is that you need to look for the silver lining; for example, if that were the case, it'd still be something to be glad for. He'd have woken up, and you could rush to his side as soon as you heard the news.

[after a moment of silence, to let ardyn's words sink in, prompto replies with a soft:]

...yeah.

[who is he kidding? all the while he's looking up at the ceiling, he's well aware that ardyn has his eyes on him. his expression shifts, mouth into a thin line as he tries hard to keep the tears from blurring his vision entirely.]

[it'd be such a great thing if noctis woke up]

[five months into it... prompto's ashamed to have thought he won't]

[he feels the rub of a fluffy tail against his side, and so he gives himself the chance to turn on his side, his back to ardyn, and pet the black ball of fluff he's come to know and love. erebus is such a sweet kittydude]

...hope, hope it happens soon.

...So do I.

[He feels inadequate, that being the only consolation he can give. "So do I." But it's all he can offer, really; just a mode of comfort, a pillar to lean on when Prompto feels as if he's lost someone precious to him.]

Cling to hope. That's the only advice I can give you. In the meanwhile, would you like to stay here? If you can claim the couch before Fynn, I won't let him relocate you later when he returns.

[Fynn will just have to settle for some other place in the house. There's a small couch in one of his studies, so he can manage there, he thinks.]

[he sits up quickly at that, erebus climbing from his arms to his shoulders (at least, that's what ardyn can assume, since prompto still keeps his back to him). orange cat eyes look over at ardyn as prompto does nothing but softly brush his fingers over the cat's back and tail.]

Fynn's still staying here?

[prompto adds with casual humour in his voice, rubbing at his eyes quickly, trying to play it cool.]

Guess we'll be roommates now, huh?

[but he falters into silence]

... do you remember-- [and stops himself] Hm. It's fine. I'll take the couch.

He is. You know how he can be; impulsive with his spending, to the point where he's become something of a permanent fixture in this home now.

[But that's said more in humor than actual criticism. He can put Fynn on blast some other day. Prompto faltering like that diverts his attention, anyway.]

Do I remember what?

[he sways on the spot, elbows on his knees; it's clear even if ardyn can't see his face that he's debating with himself whether to go ahead and answer the question, or not at all. it's tough because he wants to put a name to the situation, a concrete, clear proof that he's been harbouring pain and grief deep inside for months.]

[...his chest hurts, again, as prompto tries his best to push down his miserable feelings.]

[it begins with a hitched, quiet attempt at syllables] Noc- Noct...

[coughing, he starts again]

Noctis... Caelum. He was, in your class, before.

[It's worrisome, the way that Prompto won't say whatever it is that lingers on his tongue. Ardyn wonders for a moment if he should've pressed at all, if he should've spared Prompto the obvious pain of whatever it is the young man is thinking.

But then he says it anyway, and the professor immediately understands why it had been so hard. Noctis Caelum. Yes, he remembers him. And he knows that by Prompto saying his name, he's making all of this probably feel more real, more painful, than he wants it to be.]

...Yes. I remember him.

[A smart young man, though not very motivated. Hard to forget, with a name like that. Prone to falling asleep in class, or letting his attentions wander elsewhere.

He was the one, then?]

I'm sorry, Prompto.

[prompto shrugs, not to try and make light of ardyn's words, but because he doesn't want to make himself more upset than what he already is.]

It's not your fault.

[and noctis isn't dead anyway. there's nothing to apologise for.]

...it's no one's fault.

[no matter that at times he feels sick and guilty that it took him nearly twenty-four hours to check on noctis, that fateful day, back in february.]

[erebus climbs out of prompto's hold, hopping right off his back, and jumping up onto ardyn's lap. such is the nature of cats.]

He's... pretty lazy, sure, but he's a strong guy. He'll ... he'll make it out of this.

If you have faith in your friend, then so do I.

[That's the strength he can offer, he thinks. To bolster Prompto's hope with his own.

Silence lingers a bit longer, and Ardyn lets Erebus jump into his lap without so much as a blink. Seems like he's gotten used to the habits of cats by now.]

Do you need anything else? Have you eaten yet?

[prompto pushes himself up to stand, straightening his legs with a bit of a stretch. he wants to say he's fine, that he doesn't need anything else. but as he brings himself to turn around--no tears!--even without making eye contact, he can't help the awkward stance; holding his arm into a hand.]

...I could do with a sandwich.

[he's hungry]

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