[ Love isn't enough sometimes, and isn't that something. Noctis finds that he comes to hate that gentleness, the way he delivers them so softly as if the message itself will hurt less if he moderates himself. But this is a different thing entirely, this isn't news that affect the crown -- this is something that hurts. He doesn't hide it when it flickers in his eyes; but there is no way he can walk away from this. ]
Yeah. [ He says softly, and he hates, again, how Ignis addresses him like this -- the title used to be uttered in jest, in warmth and teasing; how it pleased him when Ignis murmured that in bed, complete with the softest of kisses. But now his words cut in the way they've never done so before, but Noctis doesn't pull away, his hand coming down to tug on the knot that holds his robe shut. So what if he needs to shower? Noctis has forced himself to be accustomed to so much, how much more difficult can this be? ] But it'll have to do.
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Yeah. [ He says softly, and he hates, again, how Ignis addresses him like this -- the title used to be uttered in jest, in warmth and teasing; how it pleased him when Ignis murmured that in bed, complete with the softest of kisses. But now his words cut in the way they've never done so before, but Noctis doesn't pull away, his hand coming down to tug on the knot that holds his robe shut. So what if he needs to shower? Noctis has forced himself to be accustomed to so much, how much more difficult can this be? ] But it'll have to do.