[ Unsurprisingly, the food is delicious. He's tasted good food before, of course. He can follow orders and instructions exceptionally well and all cooking and baking are made of are a list of orders, performed one by one. This, however, tastes even better than normal. Perhaps it's because everything feels good right now, being able to see things like the glint of his cufflinks, the decorative lines on the plates they're eating off of. He notes the colors of the salad, the deep greens, purple veins, the color and life of all of it.
When he looks back at Noctis, he's endlessly grateful he can school his face to hide his emotions because he's relatively certain that he'd have raw awe written across it. It's one thing to know that he's the king, and that Ignis had served him faithfully for years despite other options, offers, most likely. It's another to see the proof of him written in the city around them, in the lettuce they're eating, fresh as you like, in the way the city comes alive around them.
A car horn honks. The air conditioning unit above them creaks and groans with its age; it hasn't been replaced, from the looks of it, but despite ten years it still seems to function. All of the shops, all of the buildings, all of the people living normal, boring, mundane lives again and none of them know that their savior is sitting in a tiny shop with room for eight people, maybe, talking about cheesecake.
What would they have done if Noctis weren't a good man? It's not a pleasant thought to consider. Noctis isn't, though; he's good through and through, smiles quickly and easily and asks Ignis, a man he barely knows, if he wants dessert. It's absurd.
( This is why he loved you with everything he was. ) ]
I'm not certain I could finish an entire one but I could take a taste yours if you intend on getting it.
no subject
When he looks back at Noctis, he's endlessly grateful he can school his face to hide his emotions because he's relatively certain that he'd have raw awe written across it. It's one thing to know that he's the king, and that Ignis had served him faithfully for years despite other options, offers, most likely. It's another to see the proof of him written in the city around them, in the lettuce they're eating, fresh as you like, in the way the city comes alive around them.
A car horn honks. The air conditioning unit above them creaks and groans with its age; it hasn't been replaced, from the looks of it, but despite ten years it still seems to function. All of the shops, all of the buildings, all of the people living normal, boring, mundane lives again and none of them know that their savior is sitting in a tiny shop with room for eight people, maybe, talking about cheesecake.
What would they have done if Noctis weren't a good man? It's not a pleasant thought to consider. Noctis isn't, though; he's good through and through, smiles quickly and easily and asks Ignis, a man he barely knows, if he wants dessert. It's absurd.
( This is why he loved you with everything he was. ) ]
I'm not certain I could finish an entire one but I could take a taste yours if you intend on getting it.