It’d been a week since Ignis had lost his sight. And Gladiolus wasn’t done being angry at the world in general, at his King in specific, and at himself for not having been there to protect his friend.
It was an impotent sort of anger. That brought up everything he’d lost. His father. His home. Friends. And there was nothing that could be done, not now at least, to address it.
So he was trying to be there for the other man, which at the moment, meant reading aloud to him to keep him occupied.
“You sure you’re not minding this? I know I managed to bring more of my books than you, but, I’m sure we could find something other than my, um,” he chuckled lightly. “My tales of dashing romance to read.” @iignixs










