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[ being in insomnia again is.. strange. the city is the same as she had remembered, and yet so different, so strange after so many long years in tenebrae. this city seems so enormous and sprawling, sharp and stark in comparison, bright and chrome and full of people. though she remembers her time here, her earliest years, she was still quite young when her parents swept she and her brother back to the motherland, and those tender years of growth had been spent in a city very different, a home that she had grown used to, settled into.
and now they are here again, political tensions spurring her father to emigrate here, to lucis again. the empire has been still and quiet, and there have even been talks of treatise, but alisaie trusts her father's judgment, for all his political involvement. more than national pride, he hopes for his family to be safe and secure, and short of living in the bush, insomnia had seemed to him the ideal location. with the wall so strong, such a city must be impenetrable, yes?
alisaie does not know the details of it all, her father would disclose only so much - she and her brother were to focus solely on their studies, bettering themselves, and not to worry about such things outside of their control. lucis might not be a large nation, but insomnia is safe, and secure. it suits their needs just fine.
still, settling in, for alisaie, is not necessarily easy. unlike the rest of her family, smooth-talkers with political savvy, she has a hard enough time simply getting along with her own peers. her friends in tenebrae had been few and distant, their relationships thin and civil but little more. to have to start over again is.. a nightmare. but she is not here to make friends, she is here to finish her schooling, to graduate and prepare for university and beyond. there's nothing to be afraid of.
yet her knuckles are white around the books clutched to her chest as she climbs the stairs that first day, eyes forward, chin high, and it takes less than a week's time for her to earn a reputation as a haughty, conceited little snob, the little rich girl sort who is far too good to waste her time with those she deems beneath her - everyone, apparently. this is not entirely the case of course, but it suits alisaie's needs just fine. let them think what they want, so long as it affords her a wide berth and quiet time to herself, without the terrifying distraction of working her way into, and maintaining her place within, a social circle.
the weekend seems to take an eon to arrive, but friday is here at last. alisaie sits outside at a table on campus, alone, peeling the crusts distractedly from her sandwich, her advanced chemistry textbook open in front of her. three afternoon classes, and this horrible week will be over.. ]
and now they are here again, political tensions spurring her father to emigrate here, to lucis again. the empire has been still and quiet, and there have even been talks of treatise, but alisaie trusts her father's judgment, for all his political involvement. more than national pride, he hopes for his family to be safe and secure, and short of living in the bush, insomnia had seemed to him the ideal location. with the wall so strong, such a city must be impenetrable, yes?
alisaie does not know the details of it all, her father would disclose only so much - she and her brother were to focus solely on their studies, bettering themselves, and not to worry about such things outside of their control. lucis might not be a large nation, but insomnia is safe, and secure. it suits their needs just fine.
still, settling in, for alisaie, is not necessarily easy. unlike the rest of her family, smooth-talkers with political savvy, she has a hard enough time simply getting along with her own peers. her friends in tenebrae had been few and distant, their relationships thin and civil but little more. to have to start over again is.. a nightmare. but she is not here to make friends, she is here to finish her schooling, to graduate and prepare for university and beyond. there's nothing to be afraid of.
yet her knuckles are white around the books clutched to her chest as she climbs the stairs that first day, eyes forward, chin high, and it takes less than a week's time for her to earn a reputation as a haughty, conceited little snob, the little rich girl sort who is far too good to waste her time with those she deems beneath her - everyone, apparently. this is not entirely the case of course, but it suits alisaie's needs just fine. let them think what they want, so long as it affords her a wide berth and quiet time to herself, without the terrifying distraction of working her way into, and maintaining her place within, a social circle.
the weekend seems to take an eon to arrive, but friday is here at last. alisaie sits outside at a table on campus, alone, peeling the crusts distractedly from her sandwich, her advanced chemistry textbook open in front of her. three afternoon classes, and this horrible week will be over.. ]

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but he interrupts her thoughts with a kiss, a good one, long and warm and deep. it steals her breath away, and a soft sound of surprise is swallowed between them, but far be it for her to ever turn down his kiss - they've gotten so good at it by now, it is all too easy to tilt her head and take his face between her hands, her lips parting against his until they lock together seamlessly. her heart leaps up into her throat.
when it ends she keeps near, touching her brow to his, her fingertips grazing his jawline, her eyes flickering open to catch his own. ]
Prompto.. what is wrong?
[ misgiving is seated in her gut, worry weighting heavy in her breast; has something happened? has a friend of his been hurt? has he been hurt? ]
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But they have no such luxury. Their time is up.
He meets her gaze, but a moment later, his eyes flicker away, the sight of her own too much for his heart to take. How is he supposed to walk away from this? From her? And yet he must. He doesn't have another option. He has to...
Still, he allows himself one more moment, to lift his hand to her cheek, his thumb smoothing over her soft, warm skin, a quiet, vulnerable sound moving in the back of his throat.
It's time.
He does the only thing he can. He detaches himself, pulls away from his own heart, drawing away into a dark, isolated space to put up the walls necessary to see this through. If he leaves himself emotional and open, she will see right through him, and she...can't know the truth of why he's doing this. He can't ruin her future. He can't let her choose to ruin her future, for someone as worthless as him.
His head still bowed, Prompto lets go of her, and takes a step away. ]
Alisaie, I...I can't...
[ Even as he withdraws from himself, he still has to fight to get the words out, has to taste how vile and wrong they are on his tongue. Tears threaten at the corner of his eyes, but he keeps them at bay, blinking furiously. ]
I can't...s-see you...anymore. I-I'm s-sorry.
[ To say those words to her is nothing short of devastating, a cold, icy hand reaching right into his chest and seizing his heart. ]
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What..?
[ frozen in place, her heart sinking in her breast, alisaie stares blankly forward, her eyes fixed on his face, a deep crease in her brow. ]
What do you - come again?
[ she misheard him. she must have. ]
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He feels...hollow. ]
You...you heard me. I-I said I...I don't want to see you anymore. I...
[ Keep talking. See this through. It'll...it'll all be better that way. ]
It...never was going to work out between us. We're too...different. [ His reasons tumble out, sloppily rehearsed in his mind before she arrived. They sound devoid of meaning, just jumble of letters that can't possibly mean anything, least of all anything that could hurt her so deeply Maybe, once she's had some time, she'll agree, anyway. They are different. He always knew it would end. They could never...be together forever. ] Th-this...this is...
[ He turns away from her, but only so he can hide his tears, which he wipes furiously at his eyes to dispel. ]
This is the last time we'll talk. I'm...
[ I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. ]
Goodbye, Alisaie.
[ He starts to leave. He needs to get out of there, needs to get away from her, where she won't hear his sobs, won't see his anguish. He needs to get away from this place, where they played when they were young, where they reconciled as students, where they shared their first kiss.
He needs to get away, before the dam in his heart bursts, leaving only wreckage behind. ]
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but she cannot reconcile his words with her heart, or with his actions. things have been.. perfect. simple. easy. they laugh and they kiss, they tease one another, they've been all but attached at the hip. this is.. out of nowhere, so wildly impossible that it feels a slap to the face.
and so for several moments she's simply.. stunned, staring wide-eyed at his profile, and then, the back of his head. he at least had the decency to say this to her face, but he cannot even look at her now, and if he thinks he can possibly get away with dropping this bomb between them and walking away, he has another thing coming.
because this is wrong. it feels wrong. snapped from her shocked daze, alisaie surges after him, snagging his arm. ]
What? What are you talking about? That's not.. that's ridiculous.
[ but her heart is in her throat. prompto wouldn't joke about something like this, it isn't funny, but he also - he also cannot mean what he is saying. she feels cold all over, swept up in fear. ]
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He pulls free of her grip, but he does turn to face her, a desperate sound thick in his throat. ]
No, it's not. It's just...the way things have to be. I-I...I never thought this would last. [ That much, at least, is painfully true. ] So why draw it out?
[ He dips his head, shaking it vigorously. ]
Did you honestly believe...that there could ever be a future for us?
[ The words are a knife to the gut. ]
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[ the words are a knife to her gut as well, and alisaie is once more stunned silent. what can she say? where has this come from? they were so good. so strong. so happy. it can't.. it can't have been a lie. ]
Of.. of course I did..
[ she can't say that she's been plotting their marriage or anything, but.. but she could so easily see them together long in the future, happy and smiling, tormenting one another, everything was lovely. ]
Why.. why are you saying this..?
[ she starts, tears flooding her eyes, her throat tight with emotion. no, she can't accept this. how can she? moving forward, she grasps for his hands. ]
This is - this is a joke, isn't it?
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But even if he avoids her gaze still, he can hear the sound of tears in her voice, and now she's stepping towards him again, reaching for his hands. He pulls away yet again, because if he lets himself entertain the feeling of her hands around his for even a moment, he doubts he will be able to walk away again. He will break, tell her the truth about everything, and he can't —
He can't do that. No, now he is well past the point of no return. ]
Why would I joke about something like this?!
[ A sob hiccups through his words, unbidden, and hot tears slip from his eyes at last. He turns away from her again, lifting his hand to his face to wipe them away. ]
It...was fun while it lasted. B-but now it's time to...move on. I'm — I'm sorry.
[ He meets her eyes, for the briefest of moments. ]
It's over.
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[ her voice breaks at last, but as she usually responds to pain with fury, there is anger now lacing her words, tight and hot. he won't look at her, and she can see the tears on his face, none of this makes sense. ]
No - no, that is.. that is not a good enough reason! Dammit, Prompto, what are you doing?
[ he'd been so loving. so gentle. she'd been so sure when they met again that he had changed, that he'd grown shallow and mean, high off of a close friendship with the crown prince himself. but he'd worked hard to dispel that idea, convincing her that nothing had changed at all, that his heart was still warm, and kind.
clutching her hands together, because she can find nothing else to do with them, alisaie bites her lip, vainly attempting to blink away tears that will not stop. ]
But we.. w-we were supposed to..
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[ He is so, so afraid of her finishing that thought, and yet he wants nothing more in the world for her to do so. Unfortunately, it's not about what he wants anymore.
He wipes the tears from his cheeks, pushing himself out of his own heart again, deafening himself to the sound of her heart breaking. ]
You said it yourself when we first met again. I've changed. I'm not the person you think I am.
[ These words do not quaver like the statements that have come before it. It's evident that he believes them, that he means them. ]
I've been...lying to you this whole time.
[ And that, in and of itself, is not really a lie, either. ]
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[ that's not possible. why? why would he go to such lengths only to ruin it? she shakes her head. ]
Why would you? What benefit would that serve?
[ no, no, he's kind, he's sweet, she - she loves him. his presence makes her smile, his kiss fills her heart. they were going to go out tonight, hold hands, be near each other, he is her only friend in the world. a chilly numbness sweeps down from the crown of her head, her voice lowering, softening. ]
Th-that can't be.. true..
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[ He feels ill, physically, from head to toe. His head throbs, his vision blurs, his throat aches, as his entire world comes crashing down around him, and it's all of his own making. She won't listen, so what does he have to do to get her to accept this? He has to make her angry. He has to make her so angry that she...never wants to see his face again.
It's...for the best. ]
Already got in your skirt, so what's the point of sticking around?
[ i'm so sorry i'm so sorry i'm so sorry i'm so sorry ]
You're just like...every other girl...
[ He no longer sounds like himself, he's no longer crying. ]
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she would have been ashamed to admit, before, that there had been a time where she'd feared something like this. when first he was attempting to befriend her again despite all the evidence otherwise, when he was trying so hard to convince her that he wasn't what she had thought. she had considered that maybe, just maybe, his motive might not be so clean.
but he had proved her wrong with his smile and his kiss, with how gently he touched her, with his bright, sunny laughs. she had fallen for him so quickly, so easily.
and now.. a lie? no - no, he'd been so genuine. so open. there's no.. there's no way. but even now he sounds so hard, his gaze is sharper than she's ever seen it and it's enough to make her heart clutch in her chest, gripped by an icy fist. he's.. he means it. how can he mean it? ]
No.. no, that's -
[ she'd given him everything. everything. ]
You're - you're lying.
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[ Amazing, how much easier it is to talk, once he's gone numb, once he only seems to witness this unfolding from a distance. She looks horrified, and she should. Of course she should. He's saying awful, unforgivable things to her. He deserves all her spite and anger and hatred. He always has. ]
Dammit, Alisaie, do you always have to be so stubborn? I'm trying to break up with you! How many godsdamned ways do I have to tell you before it'll stick?!
[ please leave, please, please please ]
I don't want you anymore.
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it's over.
he used her.
it feels.. cold, to think it. to consider that he might mean it. that it might be true. tears flood her eyes in earnest now, thick and hot, obscuring her vision, spilling in fat droplets down her face. alisaie's jaw sets, her hands clenched to fists at her sides, white knuckled. ]
H-how.. how dare you..
[ she says, her voice a harsh whisper. ]
I loved you.
[ crack. like lightning her hand lashes out, slapping him open palmed across the face, hard and unforgiving. she had never thought that she would feel this way, used, sullied, and by - by him -
there is so much more she could say, so much pain and fury in her heart, but she would not have breath enough to voice it. with a sharp inhale she turns, before he can say anything further, before her heart can be wounded any more than it is, and then hurries away. ]
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But she's not done yet.
Then she tells him she loved him, and her hand connects with his face with such force that he staggers backwards, knocked down, his head spinning, his whole body stunned and shocked, though it's difficult to say which had the greater effect.
She...loved him?
He whimpers, a mournful, wounded sound, arms curling up to cradle his chest as if his heart might fall out if he does not. She loved him? And now he — he's ruined everything — ]
N-no, p-please...
[ But it doesn't matter. The damage is done. She is gone, out of his life for good, and it feels as though a flame in his heart is snuffed out completely.
He curls in on himself, and at last, lets himself sob brokenly. ]
I...love you, too...