[ Oh. Oh. He doesn't know what to say to that because sometimes, Noctis' raw honesty is so much that it's practically overwhelming. He's silent for a long moment, just soaking in the sweetness of it, resisting the urge to think that it's ridiculous that Noctis could have his choice of anyone and he's chosen him. It's a ridiculous thought and he's not prone to self-deprecation; it's just the illness and he knows it. ]

Sometimes I think about what could have been.

[ What could have happened, if they had failed. There's a million different ways things could have gone even worse; Noctis could have truly died out there with Lunafreya. Noctis could have died a dozen times over and it was pure fucking luck that saved him at points, not just the combined efforts of his friends. It's terrifying to think about and dwelling on it won't help anyone.

Ignis presses a lingering kiss to his pulse, stroking his sock-clad toes against Noctis' ankle gently. ]

Forgive me. Fever and lack of sleep mean I'm particularly prone to melancholy, I suppose.