i was thinking a lot about it and then i thought to myself "you know who would know the answer, Prompto?" and i thought of you, obviously! and since i was sure you would be right i was sure you would agree because i thought i was right so i thought i was right because i thought i would be right about thinking you would be right
[ No, stop this, she doesn't need to worry about him!!! He's done it again...and, like, okay, they've talked about this, but — look, this is different! He can go to her for emotional support, but when he's sick like this?? That's a whole different kind of support.
Also, he's gross. She can't see him when he's gross like this! ]
um no!!! as it so happens i hate all food so don't even think about bringing me any!
[ um this most certainly is not different. besides, her own brother is sick and they share a room - if she is going to be sick, it will happen whether or not she throws soup in his face.
really though even without all of this reasoning she would still do it, because she does what she wants. ]
[ her answer doesn't come for awhile, presumably because she's gathering the soup and she doesn't do a great job of paying close attention to her texts even when she isn't otherwise engaged.. ]
then i suggest you find a pair of trousers. i am coming in.
[ she's calling his bluff anyway HE ISN'T NAKED!! but his doorknob is now slowly turning like in a horror film....... ]
[ Wow, he should take off his pants just to prove her wrong!!!
(...No, he shouldn't.)
But as soon as he receives that message and sees the handle turning, he immediately bolts upright in bed, scrubbing at his face and pulling a blanket up over his head so she can't see the sorry state of his hair. Actually, maybe he should pull it over his whole body —
Yeah, he's gonna do it. He flattens himself against the bed and pulls the blankets over himself in an attempt to blend in with the bed. She'll surely never find him here, in his bed...!
(The sad thing is he would probably try to do this even if he weren't deliriously sick.) ]
[ yeah he would definitely do this if he weren't sick, let's be real here..
anyway, she barges right on into his bedroom without any further preamble, closing the door behind her, and eyeing the flattened-prompto-shaped bump beneath the blankets. ah yes, she is so fooled, he must not be here after all. prompto who? ]
Hmm.. I suppose I shall have to eat this spicy soup myself..
[ she says aloud, to the empty room, while moving to seat herself at the edge of the super incredibly empty bed. there's much rustling of a paper bag.. ]
With this ice cold milk, and fresh, warm cookies. I suppose Prompto did not want them after all.
[ Let it never be said that Prompto Argentum has never had a girl in his bedroom before...
Even if he is currently pretending to not be in said bedroom. She thinks she can lure him out with the promise of delicious food, and she is...probably right. He is weak at the best of times, and now his defenses are particularly low thanks to the fact that his head feels like it's been stuffed with cotton.
But no!! He will not yield. At least — not intentionally. But no sooner has she mentioned warm cookies does his stomach grumble, betraying his so very not obvious at all position beneath the blankets.
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water comes in contact with OTHER water
so BOOM
you just proved me right!!!
i think
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1/2
2/2
i mean
i'm sure you have your reasons
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her reply does not come for several more minutes.......... ]
then mayhaps next time you should not ask.
[ rip ]
1/3
well you see
the reason i asked was because
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and then i thought to myself "you know who would know the answer, Prompto?"
and i thought of you, obviously!
and since i was sure you would be right i was sure you would agree
because i thought i was right
so i thought i was right because i thought i would be right about thinking you would be right
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maybe this cold is getting to my head more than i thought...
[ Yes, that's it, it's the...cold... ]
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How are you faring?
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gooey?
like someone sneezed into my brain
uh
sorry if that was kind of gross but it's true!!!
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is there anything i can do to help?
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nah i'm okay
best thing you can do is just make sure you don't get sick yourself!
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do you like chicken soup?
[ it isn't a question anymore really.. ]
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Also, he's gross. She can't see him when he's gross like this! ]
um
no!!!
as it so happens i hate all food
so don't even think about bringing me any!
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really though even without all of this reasoning she would still do it, because she does what she wants. ]
i shant be long, try to keep comfortable.
[ she isn't even sort of listening.. ]
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don't do it!!
i'm
i'm NAKED
[ she should leave him to die tbh ]
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then i suggest you find a pair of trousers. i am coming in.
[ she's calling his bluff anyway HE ISN'T NAKED!! but his doorknob is now slowly turning like in a horror film....... ]
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(...No, he shouldn't.)
But as soon as he receives that message and sees the handle turning, he immediately bolts upright in bed, scrubbing at his face and pulling a blanket up over his head so she can't see the sorry state of his hair. Actually, maybe he should pull it over his whole body —
Yeah, he's gonna do it. He flattens himself against the bed and pulls the blankets over himself in an attempt to blend in with the bed. She'll surely never find him here, in his bed...!
(The sad thing is he would probably try to do this even if he weren't deliriously sick.) ]
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anyway, she barges right on into his bedroom without any further preamble, closing the door behind her, and eyeing the flattened-prompto-shaped bump beneath the blankets. ah yes, she is so fooled, he must not be here after all. prompto who? ]
Hmm.. I suppose I shall have to eat this spicy soup myself..
[ she says aloud, to the empty room, while moving to seat herself at the edge of the super incredibly empty bed. there's much rustling of a paper bag.. ]
With this ice cold milk, and fresh, warm cookies. I suppose Prompto did not want them after all.
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Even if he is currently pretending to not be in said bedroom. She thinks she can lure him out with the promise of delicious food, and she is...probably right. He is weak at the best of times, and now his defenses are particularly low thanks to the fact that his head feels like it's been stuffed with cotton.
But no!! He will not yield. At least — not intentionally. But no sooner has she mentioned warm cookies does his stomach grumble, betraying his so very not obvious at all position beneath the blankets.
Welp. ]
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