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[originallutece]

Rosalind Lutece

Doctor of physics, professor at Recollé University.

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[originallutece]

Noctis.

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

[kittycaterer]

[ 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. ]

[originallutece]

[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.]

[kittycaterer]

[ 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.