[Prompto's on his feet, pacing the gravel beach in the dark until the waves wash over his boots, blanket an abandoned heap next to Izunia. He stands there, gulping down the sea air, then turns around, colorless without a light in the night, just a dark shape with fair hair.]
no subject
[Prompto's on his feet, pacing the gravel beach in the dark until the waves wash over his boots, blanket an abandoned heap next to Izunia. He stands there, gulping down the sea air, then turns around, colorless without a light in the night, just a dark shape with fair hair.]
It doesn't have to be that way.
[He presses lips together stubbornly.]
Noct's not dead yet.