[ He holds his breath until the moment her hand moves away, almost, almost hoping she will ignore his protests and pull off this damned wristband to see what lies beneath. Wouldn't it be simpler that way? If she forced her way in, if he had to explain, because there was no other path forward. Isn't...that what had happened with his friends? The only way for them to progress was with the access granted by his barcode. Would he have worked up the courage to tell them otherwise? He had told himself he would, that he wouldn't be afraid of what he is anymore —
And yet here he is, unable to tell someone so deeply important to him, continuing to hide away the depths of his heart from her. He hates it, and yet, he is still more afraid that he will lose everything if he tells her the truth.
Will he ever be able to move on from this?
The voices of doubt within his own mind feel insurmountable, and though Prompto opens his mouth to ask her to stay, the words just don't come. He has no right to ask that of her. Not now. Not after...all that.
She's already done more than enough, and he just...takes and takes and gives nothing back. ]
Okay. [ He mutters, low and quiet and hoarse, his energy all but spent now. ] Um...thanks again.
[ It sounds hollow, but he really doesn't know what else to say. All he wants to do is curl into a ball and sleep and hide himself away, and maybe dream of a place where he isn't so broken. ]
[ it's strange to feel uncomfortable around him, when prompto has made every effort to ever be easy and casual around her, but here we are. she cannot help but feel as if she's stumbled upon something private, somewhere she was not welcome. ]
Of course. You needn't thank me.
[ even helping in the smallest, most pointless of ways, is still helping..
but with the bowl gathered up and prompto as comfortable as she can make him, she clears her throat and retreats toward the door, halting for a moment to turn and look him over one final time. hopefully he takes her advice and doesn't pull his hands and feed right back under the covers once she's gone. ]
Do not be afraid to message me should you need anything.
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And yet here he is, unable to tell someone so deeply important to him, continuing to hide away the depths of his heart from her. He hates it, and yet, he is still more afraid that he will lose everything if he tells her the truth.
Will he ever be able to move on from this?
The voices of doubt within his own mind feel insurmountable, and though Prompto opens his mouth to ask her to stay, the words just don't come. He has no right to ask that of her. Not now. Not after...all that.
She's already done more than enough, and he just...takes and takes and gives nothing back. ]
Okay. [ He mutters, low and quiet and hoarse, his energy all but spent now. ] Um...thanks again.
[ It sounds hollow, but he really doesn't know what else to say. All he wants to do is curl into a ball and sleep and hide himself away, and maybe dream of a place where he isn't so broken. ]
no subject
Of course. You needn't thank me.
[ even helping in the smallest, most pointless of ways, is still helping..
but with the bowl gathered up and prompto as comfortable as she can make him, she clears her throat and retreats toward the door, halting for a moment to turn and look him over one final time. hopefully he takes her advice and doesn't pull his hands and feed right back under the covers once she's gone. ]
Do not be afraid to message me should you need anything.