When it happened, Noctis wanted no one near him, wanted his friends to be gone. And safe. But Prompto wouldn’t leave, he stayed-- he stayed even thought the prince kept asking for him to go. Go be safe. Go. Go. Go. Yet he never did. Ignis and Gladio left to find a way to reverse this. He’s not sure how describe what it felt like... cold, wrong, suffocating. There are times when he’s not himself, when all his thoughts are dark and all his is are claws and teeth.
His friend has suffered the brunt of it, the bad days where Noctis was feral, and would have no qualms about hurting him. Those days, he barely remembers being anything other than what he was now. Noctis was gone, and in place was this daemon.
Today, it wasn’t so bad. Noctis was rather pleased with himself as he settled on top of the other’s back. His ‘prey’ not fighting, which made it all the better. Let’s out a yawn, and seemed almost content to stay there for the rest of the day. Then his fluffy yellow ‘prey’ spoke, tilts his head to the side, the slightest of frowns on his face. Contemplating silently, before digging his claws in, a warning to his ‘prey’. ‘Run and I’ll drag you back here’.
Noctis climbs off, and settles next to him. Ever watchful eyes on Prompto.