the thing about living in the dark is that everything feels like a dream. ( If he can’t look out of the window of this train and watch the trees blur past, is the train really moving at all? or, is this sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach just falling? Down is up and up is down and the thing about living in the dark is that it’s so hard to tell where you are. )
He hiccups a breath, furls his fingers within the fabric of his slacks ——— and, gods, he can’t panic right now! ( He dreams of Noctis — holding his hands, his face, kissing him, making love with him — and, he realizes that he’ll never be there again. The thing about living in the dark is that there can be no light. )
There’s a movement beside him — the way that the leather of the seat creaks, the way that clothes rustle against each other — and, he knows that it’s Noctis because it’s gently taking hold of his hands, unfurling the fingers, brushing a thumb across bone-white knuckles, and he’s so tired and so scared that he just tenses up even more, angles his head away from Noctis as his throat closes around a sob. ( By now, Noctis has seen him have a great many anxiety attacks — but, he’s never seen him cry. He doesn’t really want that to start now. )
Maybe it’s the hardest thing that he’s ever done, but he separates their hands, and they immediately return to fists around the walking stick that he holds between his legs.
Ignis took one for you, too — and, for what?
For what, indeed? — although, even as he has the thought, he knows that he’s being unworthy. One can hardly compare loss of eyesight to loss of life ( — and, in spite of what he may selfishly want, and in spite of what Noctis may ever be willing to admit, he knows that he loved Lunafreya.
How could a mere mortal ever hope to compete with the Oracle of the Gods? How could a mere mortal ever hope to be with the King of Kings himself? )
Ignis took one for you, too — and, for what?
Perhaps he needed to be reminded of his place. Perhaps you cannot hope to gaze upon divinity and ever see anything else. ( Perhaps Gladio was right all along! )
❝ My apologies, ❞ he offers — stuffy, formal, distant — ❝ for ... Lady Lunafreya. I fear that I have not had the opportunity to offer proper condolences until now. Should you require anything ——— ❞
another hiccuping breath, and his lips thin into a line as a stubborn tear wells over his scarred eye,
❝ — I will assist in whatever capacity I am able. Would that it were more. ❞ @caelumdevium!
