outofmychair:
Noct refrains from rolling his eyes as emphatically as he can, considering he has heard his mother say far worse things in public.
But he can’t quite keep himself from scowling at her as she refuses to just let the topic drop. He looks faintly unimpressed with her assurance that he isn’t needy–she’s his mom, of course that’s what she’s going to say–but he doesn’t get a chance to say anything about it before she goes and makes things worse.
“Mooommm,” he groans, slumping down in his seat, folding his arms on the table and hiding his face against them. His voice is muffled as he protests, “I don’t like Prompto.” He loses whatever remains of his credibility, though it’s a very limited amount by then, as he immediately starts tripping over his words. “I mean, I do–duh–but not like–you know what I mean.”
(if the floor could just swallow him, that’d be great. …no? goddammit.)
He’s just…going to stay right there, face down on the table. This is his home now. It’s where he lives.
Aulea lifts her hands in a surrendering manner with a tiny smile. “Alright, alright.. I will let sleeping dogs lie.” Aulea confirmed, reaching out to fix the back of Noct’s hair while she has the chance.
(she knows when to stop)
“How was class?” she asks instead, leaning back a little and pulling her hair back and up from her face as she spoke.
