[ Noctis isn't moving and when Ignis swings his head around, he can't see the Crystal. He can see, though, and that feels wrong. He shouldn't be able to see - he remembers the pain of it, the power coursing through him sharp and biting, burning him from the inside out. Remembers putting his hands to his eyes, screaming when he realized what a fucking mistake that was, burning so fiercely that he knew he'd made a mistake.
It's disorienting; Ignis doesn't understand what's happening but after a few moments of Noct sitting up, talking to him, he pieces together the words and realizes what's happening - that Noct's alive, he's fine, the sheets aren't bloodied they're just a deep burgundy color instead of saturated with Noctis' blood.
I'm here, wake up.
It sounds like him; Ignis stares at him, not comprehending at first and then gives up trying to understand it, folding himself in against Noct's chest with a horrible noise caught in his throat, groping aimlessly for him. He feels real. He feels solid, alive, even smells the same. When he focuses, he can smell the scent of the shampoo they used in the bath before they crawled into bed. Noct, he breathes uncertainly against his throat, hands sliding over his waist, his chest and finally settling into a hug, tucking his head under his chin.
Later, he'll be mortified at himself for this. He's sweat-damp and feels horrifically weak and never handles that sort of thing well, but right now, he's too busy trying to confirm that Noct's okay. ]
You're here.
[ It's more of a question than he likes and he lifts a hand to slide it over Noctis' chest, but it's whole. He's whole, he's alive. When he rests his hand there, it's against warm, smooth skin, not a gaping wound where Ardyn had shoved a sword into his chest. ]
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It's disorienting; Ignis doesn't understand what's happening but after a few moments of Noct sitting up, talking to him, he pieces together the words and realizes what's happening - that Noct's alive, he's fine, the sheets aren't bloodied they're just a deep burgundy color instead of saturated with Noctis' blood.
I'm here, wake up.
It sounds like him; Ignis stares at him, not comprehending at first and then gives up trying to understand it, folding himself in against Noct's chest with a horrible noise caught in his throat, groping aimlessly for him. He feels real. He feels solid, alive, even smells the same. When he focuses, he can smell the scent of the shampoo they used in the bath before they crawled into bed. Noct, he breathes uncertainly against his throat, hands sliding over his waist, his chest and finally settling into a hug, tucking his head under his chin.
Later, he'll be mortified at himself for this. He's sweat-damp and feels horrifically weak and never handles that sort of thing well, but right now, he's too busy trying to confirm that Noct's okay. ]
You're here.
[ It's more of a question than he likes and he lifts a hand to slide it over Noctis' chest, but it's whole. He's whole, he's alive. When he rests his hand there, it's against warm, smooth skin, not a gaping wound where Ardyn had shoved a sword into his chest. ]