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IC Contact | Hugtopia
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I dunno. It feels like it'd be unfair to be mad about that. You offered me your crystal before, and I kinda said no already. ["I'll think about it" is basically "no for now".] Plus you gave it some thought- like, your reasoning checks out. It's not like we're ever really allowed to die. Hell, if I died I might've just ended up a ghost in the ring with the rest of them.
[His hand around hers squeezes gently, and an edge of grim humour enters his tone.]
Maybe it's easier to say because it was a big fakeout- I didn't die, so it didn't matter in the end. But I don't think you were wrong when you were looking at the big picture instead of just... you wanting me to live at any cost. Does that make sense?
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He's not upset. He's not mad.
After a moment, she nods, and her lips part. ]
....If... you are going to die. Or to live.... I didn't want to hurt you. [ Didn't want to hurt him further by bringing him back alive, specifically. ]
That choice-- it should be yours.
[ She looks at him curiously. Why is he not as bamboozled as she is? ]
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[He nods slowly, rolling the words over in his head like it's a puzzle. It's never really been his choice, like many things. People have died for him, sacrificing themselves to shield or hide or protect him, all because the gods and bloodline deemed him more important in the grand scheme of things. Many have sacrificed all, Bahamut had said, and it was true. He'd been spared so that he could be sacrificed as recompense for their suffering when the time came. It's... weird, and kind of grimly exhilarating to be on the other side of things, to be allowed to risk all for someone who matters so much to him. He kind of understands better now, how others might have given up so much to save him.
At the same time, though, Pyra's struggling with the weight of her choice, and it shows. So after reasonable consideration, he smiles faintly and leans in, pressing his lips against her forehead and leaning on her once more.]
It is my choice- so I'll let you know for next time... it's okay. If it comes down to me dying or you sharing your crystal, then I'll take whatever you want to offer me. [He's so not scared of being bound to another crystal that he'll take death as a preferred alternative. He trusts her. ...Although, with the caveat,] As long as it doesn't hurt you worse to do it.
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"As long as it doesn't hurt you worse to do it." ]
It wouldn't hurt me. I just worry about hurting y-- [ ....She stops herself then. How many times has she said this before? He already knows. With another sigh, she finishes her sentence. ] ...you.
[ And his family. She worries about hurting all of them, all of those that danced with him at the party, that remain here caring for him, that love him. If she can face them with the knowledge that she would have let him die, but he isn't upset at her for it-- rather, grateful that she had considered him making his own choice before it all-- then... it's not all that terrible, is it?
...It is troubling, however, that he's grateful for that at all. Him making his own choices should be the default, but such luxuries were scarcely afforded to him both from his upbringing and the fate looming over him. This is how novel it is to him, he's thanking her for something that should already be his. Even now--
"then I'll take whatever you want to offer me."
--he's going a roundabout way of pushing his choice back to her, and with such an important thing as his life itself! Baby steps, perhaps, but...
Her hand drifts from the center of his chest to his cheek. ] ...That... choice-making. Let's make it the norm.
So. I want to hear it, Noct. Don't make it my choice-- [ One step further. He can do it. She brushes her thumb beneath his eye tenderly, softening her tone in a way she hopes is encouraging. ] Make it yours. What would you want?
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Uh... okay, let's see.
[His brows furrow as he thinks over his wording. How to say it...]
If- if something bad happens and I kick the bucket, and if you still feel the same about it and are willing to share it, then... I choose to live. So as long as you're cool with doing it, then I want your crystal to keep me alive. [He tilts his head curiously.] Does that work?
[His meaning hasn't changed, but perhaps the rephrase makes it sound better on her part. A shared choice, rather than one or the other taking on that responsibility. He won't outright demand that she rescues him, but he won't make her stand by and watch him die either when she'd rather save him.]
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Mm... a hundred points. [ She smiles, lifting up her head to give him a small kiss. ] Out of a hundred. [ Before was only fifty!
She hadn't known how relieving it would be to hear him say it, "I choose to live," but with those few words spoken, her body relaxes against his. He'll live, and he'll get better. He'll walk again, he'll run, he'll warp. It will be okay. ]
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Haven't gotten one of those in a while.
[Final year, maybe? Aced the hell out of economics, mostly because it was expected of him and Ignis is an amazing advisor. As for the words themselves... he likes saying them, too. They'd danced around this before, the whole wants-versus-needs, how wanting to live doesn't necessarily coincide with being allowed to due to the cost required in exchange. Here, though? He's allowed, he can fight for it. He can choose her power or her crystal or whatever, he can stay alive.
He feels pretty good about all of that, turns out. And there's still time and space to decide.]
Well, if we're talking about what I want, then... mm...
[He sneaks his arm around her back, patting near the plate of cookies.]
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...And then she remembers that this is Noctis, and oh, right, there are cookies. She giggles, turning some to reach towards the plate herself, bringing a cookie to him. Eating in bed? It's fine, she'll wash these sheets later. ]
A one track mind.
[ Sitting up more, but remaining close, she holds up the cookie between them. ] Say 'ah'.
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[Come on, they just had a whole conversation where he was contemplating his own death, that has to count.
...He opens his mouth, though.]
Ah, as in "Ah'm due for a snacking."
[In his very best
SouthernLeiden accent.]no subject
One cookie equals one less hour in stasis. Eat all twenty-four of them, and you might just be able to recover a day early!
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[Oops, cookie-mouth. Give him a few seconds to chew first.]
Twenty-four cookies. That's too much in one go, even for me.
[Even if they're homemade and delicious.]
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[ A fake, inquisitive tone, a tilt of her head. ] I thought your magic ran on cookies. Have I been wrong this entire time?
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[But like, playfully wrong. Cutely wrong. Jokingly wrong.]
Sad to say, I've still got a normal-sized stomach.
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[ She says this as her hand drops from his shoulder to pat his considerably flat stomach. She's only teasing! ] I thought your armory was in here, it's much like a void for all sweets.
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Not all sweets. Only the really fancy and delicious stuff can be devoured to infinity. That's the secret.
[And her cookies are good, absolutely, but they're not tiny-gourmet-Altissian-chocolate good, which is a whole other level that even Ignis barely brushes up against.]
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[ She asks, innocently probing for more information, looking at him.
She's going to take this as a challenge. It's about time she added on a new hobby besides shitty gardening and tinkering with batteries on the side. ]
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[He shrugs, making a mental note to perhaps give it some thought when his brain is a little more up to snuff. He's still running on fumes here.]
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Ah, I should have known that you have expensive taste.
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Perks of growing up a rich kid, I guess. Though I learned to appreciate the thrifty stuff after Prompto and I met.
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Then, whenever Ignis and I attempt making similar chocolates, you'll just have to be our judge.
[ She lifts her gaze to meet his, her palm gently finding his cheek again. ] That's not a bad deal, is it?
[ He gets to try chocolate while they may get feedback to improve! And as for Pyra, she might have an encyclopedia and cuisine artistry talent uploaded into her, but that doesn't mean she can't improve to cater to Noctis' taste. ]
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[She gets a tired but content little smile for that; he has a preference for fancy, but he won't turn his nose up at less so long as it's tasty.]
We do an awful lot of stuff that I like, you know. Have you given some thought to more of the w-word for yourself?
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Also, she wants to protect that she's not the one who's bedridden.
She wants him to heal. To not rush himself, of course, but become healthy again. The future is his, here; yet, she feels that any moment can be their last, as if they're running out of time. Precious time he could be doing what he wants, not stuck in bed because of an item she made Architect-knows-how-long-ago...
These thoughts, and that she's surprised he would ask after her even when he's exhausted and hurt, delay her response.
But, at long last, and what seems like a heavy dose of conflict, she answers honestly: ]
...I.... still want to go camping with you.
[ Like what they talked about months prior, sitting about a camp fire together, just them. ]
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Oh man, that's right... I completely forgot. Maybe when it warms up a bit? Camping in the snow sounds kinda advanced for my tastes.
[As much as he loves a good cuddle with his very warm girlfriend, the cold sucks and gets to all the places she can't touch all at once.]
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[ Her wants will have to wait, which is fine-- because if he hadn't asked about them, she wouldn't have thought about it. For now, she will remain content to be with him here. ] I like that.
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[He draws his arm back, holding two cookies from the plate this time. One goes to his mouth, and the other presses up to hers.]
You can put stuff in the armory, too.
[The armory... stomach. Though the literal phrasing is true as well- something that he wonders if she'd realized, since she'd sort of put Mythra in his armory herself. He sure hadn't been in any state to do it.]
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