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Rosalind Lutece

Doctor of physics, professor at Recollé University.

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[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.]

Tell me what you're thinking.

[ 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. ]

[Ah. Prompto.]

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.]

[ He dials back fast, shaking his head. ]

This's stupid. I'm drunk. Thassit.

I'm not into him like... like that.

Noctis . . .

[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.

[ He hides his face in his hands again, leaning forward in his seat. ]

And then what?

Scare 'im off? Make everything weird?

[ He snorts despite himself. ]

Nah.

I didn't say tell him. I said tell yourself. At least admit it to yourself.

[ Noctis sits in silence again, still covering his face.

Eventually, he shakes his head. ]

Uh-uh.

[ Like a petulant child. ]

Noctis.

[She can appreciate he's upset, but also: come on.]

[ 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. ]

[YOU'RE A GODDAMN LIAR, CAELUM]

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.]

[ LISTEN. HE HAS SHIT TO WORK OUT. ]

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.

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