Noct reads the message over and over again and finally he sets his phone down and pushes himself up to sit. His elbows are on his knees and his hands in his head. Prompto wouldn't say this sort of stuff, Prompto wouldn't mess with him like this. It wasn't funny.
It wasn't funny. Prompto was a funny guy, he was the light-heart friend, the guy they could all go to and expect to leave feeling lighter, happier, freer. Prompto wasn't a trickster, he wasn't a deviant, he wasn't a liar.
Noct moves his hand to retrieve the phone again. He reads the message over again and holds his breath before he turns his screen down to the floor. His other hand moves to hold his temple and he shakes his head into his palm. He rubs his eyes into his hand and huffs before he drops his hand and looks at the message again. This time a spike of anger rises.)
no subject
This is too upsetting.
Noct reads the message over and over again and finally he sets his phone down and pushes himself up to sit. His elbows are on his knees and his hands in his head. Prompto wouldn't say this sort of stuff, Prompto wouldn't mess with him like this. It wasn't funny.
It wasn't funny. Prompto was a funny guy, he was the light-heart friend, the guy they could all go to and expect to leave feeling lighter, happier, freer. Prompto wasn't a trickster, he wasn't a deviant, he wasn't a liar.
Noct moves his hand to retrieve the phone again. He reads the message over again and holds his breath before he turns his screen down to the floor. His other hand moves to hold his temple and he shakes his head into his palm. He rubs his eyes into his hand and huffs before he drops his hand and looks at the message again. This time a spike of anger rises.)
What was the last thing you remember from home?