May 6, 2019
cue moves past and lightly ruffles hair.
❝--Tch... Prompt...❞ His voice bore protest, yet his transparent facade wore a shy smile. A hand is lifted to the back of his head, where digits toyed with the rustled locks. For a moment, the Prince all but watched his best friend lollop away. This silliness --Noctis had long become fond of it. He took chase, only a few steps and a hand gently secures Prompto’s shoulder. There was no comeback, no complaint. His brow twitches nervously and he lifts a reluctant finger to poke the man’s cheek.
❝...P-Payback...❞
