[It's the fact that someone else has seen Prompto looking at Noctis in such a way that interests her, though. Dante could be entirely wrong, of course, but it's still an interesting fact.
He's really burrowing into her, isn't he? She shifts again, tipping her head back as she stares at the wall.]
It's a possibility, certainly, even if you both have the best of intentions.
[ That.. Makes Noctis fall silent. Saying anything further to that would be to admit that he has feelings for Prompto at all and--
Well, while that's a possibility in itself, it's not something he's willing to wager. Prompto is his best friend. And while there have been questionable things that have happened over time, it's all been under the guise of their closeness. It's just how best bros are, right? Noctis has absolutely no prior experience to pull from, and so he's both lost and terrified that he could ruin it.
He doesn't say anything quite yet, silent for what feels like hours until he finally pulls away and looks down to his water bottle. ]
[She regrets that the moment she says it. There's an overwhelming chance that he is straight, and it's cruel to lead Noctis on with the promise of maybe. But she's also heard the way Prompto speaks of Noctis; she's watched him time and again, witness to the way he looks when he gets a text from Noctis.
It's not proof. It's hardly anything. But it sticks at her, even so.
She sighs softly and pushes her fingers through his hair again.]
You've options. But I think it would be best to discuss them when you're sober.
[ Much as she might be right about that shred of hope, Noctis ignores it almost immediately. Or at least tries to. He has no business feeling that way about his best friend, and he has to wonder if maybe he's just falling for the pressure of it. It's not the first time someone has suggested that he and Prompto are a bit too close to be considered pals. Dante was just a bit more... Aggressive in his approach, is all.
Would it be a bad thing if he were to be into him? Maybe. Especially if it freaks Prompto out and sends him running. But that's not fair to Prompto either, considering what they've been through together and what Prompto has done for him.
God...
The guy fucking saved his life. There has to be a point where admiration and appreciation crosses some sort of line that he's not even toeing yet, right? And what happens to his own little facade he's been working on for years? That cool and calm demeanor that he was so sure he had down to a polish. It's not at all the case, but he'd felt it at least.
There are a lot of factors that work against him: the fiasco at the gym, the fiasco on this couch that he still hasn't vocalized to Rosalind and never will. Fishing on the lake, the piano at the mall...
Noctis' face starts to burn bright red and despite Rosalind's delicate gesture to his hair, he leans forward with his face in his hands. ]
[She watches him for a few seconds, then reaches forward, rubbing his back gently.]
Take a deep breath. Drink some more water if you can.
[And perhaps it would be best if they got off the subject entirely. He seems so miserable, and god knows there's no use in thinking about a subject like this when there's no way the discussion will be productive.]
[ Would it really be all that terrible if he had feelings for Prompto? Is what they've been doing that out of the ordinary for people?
God. No. Wait.
Yes, it would be terrible. Yes. Because Prompto isn't into guys and there's absolutely no way in hell that he has those kinds of feelings for Noctis. He's an attentive friend, it's just how he is. Prompto love his friends. He knows that much, and it would be stupid of him to even assume that those feelings run any further than devoted friendship.
Oh shit.
Oh. Shit.
Noctis isn't sure if this is just the alcohol or his inability to align wholly with socializing, but... No. Dante might be right. Everyone might be right.
If that's the case, then where does that leave him? There's no way things would go any further, there's no other guy out there that he's even remotely interested in. So what? He just powers through this? Remains content with what he has but there's still an underlying loneliness? Something similar to the loneliness he's felt growing up because he was almost completely raised out of a hospital?
Does Noctis harbor feelings for his best friend, or he is just that drunk?
There's no telling, but Noctis is definitely not moving and he's definitely really tense and sick. ]
[She sits up as well, her hand still pressed flat against his back. Her voice had been soothing, but that's not working. Time for something a little firmer.]
[ He responds to it. The firm tone is enough to pry the absolutely plastered Caelum to turn his head and look up at Rosalind. And he's absolutely lost. It's very much there on his face, because he doesn't want to admit he's got these kind of feelings but he's not sure of them either.
[God. He looks an utter wreck. Her gaze softens, and she reaches for him, sliding her hand from his back to his face so she can cup his flushed cheek.]
[ He absolutely is. He's a wreck because there's a significant chance that he's probably holding intense feelings for his best friend. His closest friend at that. And the potential behind that is both horrifying and completely unknown. As drunk as he is? He can't articulate whether or not he's merely feeling this because it's been suggested to him so many times.
But then he thinks back to his birthday party. To when they'd played piano in the mall. To waking up to his face and his face only in the hospital.
Rosalind looks at him, carries this calm and gentle voice that only comes out in times like this and he can't help but feel small and childish in the face of it. He's red from the alcohol, but pale from the fear, and so his eyes are naturally glassy while he struggles to steal back that calm and cool facade he's maintained for so many years. Ashamed, he lets his eyes shift downward to his lap. ]
I don't... I don't know.
[ He exhales sharply as he reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. ]
He saved my life. Hasn't left my side once, even when I didn't remember his name.
[ He's still slurring horribly. And were it not for the alcohol, he wouldn't even be thinking about this. ]
[He's obviously leading up to something, and so she keeps it to that. I know, and she bites back something else trite like he cares a great deal about you, because that won't help.]
[ He's extremely drunk, among... Other things. That he won't bring up to his, well, practically surrogate mother here. It's been a long night, and so he's not exactly the most agreeable or logical right now.
So Noctis sighs in protest, rolling his head back against the top of the couch. ]
I don't. We're just friends.
[ Even though he essentially admitted to it a few minutes ago. See? Not exactly the best for this right now. ]
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And... Vice versa.
Said if we don't stop... Dancin' around it, someone'll end up hurt.
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He's really burrowing into her, isn't he? She shifts again, tipping her head back as she stares at the wall.]
It's a possibility, certainly, even if you both have the best of intentions.
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Well, while that's a possibility in itself, it's not something he's willing to wager. Prompto is his best friend. And while there have been questionable things that have happened over time, it's all been under the guise of their closeness. It's just how best bros are, right? Noctis has absolutely no prior experience to pull from, and so he's both lost and terrified that he could ruin it.
He doesn't say anything quite yet, silent for what feels like hours until he finally pulls away and looks down to his water bottle. ]
He's straight.
[ Not a confession. Not denial either. ]
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[She regrets that the moment she says it. There's an overwhelming chance that he is straight, and it's cruel to lead Noctis on with the promise of maybe. But she's also heard the way Prompto speaks of Noctis; she's watched him time and again, witness to the way he looks when he gets a text from Noctis.
It's not proof. It's hardly anything. But it sticks at her, even so.
She sighs softly and pushes her fingers through his hair again.]
You've options. But I think it would be best to discuss them when you're sober.
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Would it be a bad thing if he were to be into him? Maybe. Especially if it freaks Prompto out and sends him running. But that's not fair to Prompto either, considering what they've been through together and what Prompto has done for him.
God...
The guy fucking saved his life. There has to be a point where admiration and appreciation crosses some sort of line that he's not even toeing yet, right? And what happens to his own little facade he's been working on for years? That cool and calm demeanor that he was so sure he had down to a polish. It's not at all the case, but he'd felt it at least.
There are a lot of factors that work against him: the fiasco at the gym, the fiasco on this couch that he still hasn't vocalized to Rosalind and never will. Fishing on the lake, the piano at the mall...
Noctis' face starts to burn bright red and despite Rosalind's delicate gesture to his hair, he leans forward with his face in his hands. ]
I don't feel s'good.
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[She watches him for a few seconds, then reaches forward, rubbing his back gently.]
Take a deep breath. Drink some more water if you can.
[And perhaps it would be best if they got off the subject entirely. He seems so miserable, and god knows there's no use in thinking about a subject like this when there's no way the discussion will be productive.]
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God. No. Wait.
Yes, it would be terrible. Yes. Because Prompto isn't into guys and there's absolutely no way in hell that he has those kinds of feelings for Noctis. He's an attentive friend, it's just how he is. Prompto love his friends. He knows that much, and it would be stupid of him to even assume that those feelings run any further than devoted friendship.
Oh shit.
Oh. Shit.
Noctis isn't sure if this is just the alcohol or his inability to align wholly with socializing, but... No. Dante might be right. Everyone might be right.
If that's the case, then where does that leave him? There's no way things would go any further, there's no other guy out there that he's even remotely interested in. So what? He just powers through this? Remains content with what he has but there's still an underlying loneliness? Something similar to the loneliness he's felt growing up because he was almost completely raised out of a hospital?
Does Noctis harbor feelings for his best friend, or he is just that drunk?
There's no telling, but Noctis is definitely not moving and he's definitely really tense and sick. ]
I'm screwed.
I'm so screwed.
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[She sits up as well, her hand still pressed flat against his back. Her voice had been soothing, but that's not working. Time for something a little firmer.]
Noctis. Look at me.
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And so, this is a disaster. ]
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Tell me what you're thinking.
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But then he thinks back to his birthday party. To when they'd played piano in the mall. To waking up to his face and his face only in the hospital.
Rosalind looks at him, carries this calm and gentle voice that only comes out in times like this and he can't help but feel small and childish in the face of it. He's red from the alcohol, but pale from the fear, and so his eyes are naturally glassy while he struggles to steal back that calm and cool facade he's maintained for so many years. Ashamed, he lets his eyes shift downward to his lap. ]
I don't... I don't know.
[ He exhales sharply as he reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. ]
He saved my life. Hasn't left my side once, even when I didn't remember his name.
[ He's still slurring horribly. And were it not for the alcohol, he wouldn't even be thinking about this. ]
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I know.
[He's obviously leading up to something, and so she keeps it to that. I know, and she bites back something else trite like he cares a great deal about you, because that won't help.]
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This's stupid. I'm drunk. Thassit.
I'm not into him like... like that.
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[God, but she hates that they're doing this while he's drunk, but if she waits for tomorrow, he'll claim he doesn't remember the conversation at all.]
. . . even if it's simply to yourself, there's no use in hiding from the truth.
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And then what?
Scare 'im off? Make everything weird?
[ He snorts despite himself. ]
Nah.
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Eventually, he shakes his head. ]
Uh-uh.
[ Like a petulant child. ]
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[She can appreciate he's upset, but also: come on.]
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So Noctis sighs in protest, rolling his head back against the top of the couch. ]
I don't. We're just friends.
[ Even though he essentially admitted to it a few minutes ago. See? Not exactly the best for this right now. ]
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All right.
[Rosalind won't argue, not when he's being like this. She rubs his leg instead, a vague gesture of affection.]
Then tell me about the rest of the party instead.
[And they'll think about Prompto and Noctis' absolute not-crush tomorrow.]
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Mmh.
[ Noctis sighs, at least feeling less tense to the affection Rosalind gives, and he lets his gaze shift back to her for the time being. ]
Did too much.
[ He groans, holding his stomach. ]
'M not... 'M not good at partying. At all.