no subject

[ Probably not, he says, and Noctis doesn't argue, doesn't force his point. He shifts and turns on his side when Ignis does, meeting his eyes head on. He can see it, the pain in his eyes, and how Ignis is hurting. He doesn't miss how his lover still wears his shirt at night, and he wonders if Ignis gleans comfort from it, if he pretends sometimes that they're still together in the ways that matter. ]

I figured, a couple seconds ago. [ He admits. And he's reaching out to touch his cheek, fingers brushing over his cheekbones. It hurts -- there's nothing about this that doesn't bring pain, and he leans in to press a soft kiss to his forehad, brows knitted. ] Didn't think you were cruel enough to let me in with... that.

[ He's quiet for a moment, and sighs. ] I miss you.