[ Her body stiffens as his arms pull her into an embrace, and something gives as she throws her arms about him in return, unable to help herself from seeking his comfort and warmth, and wanting to give it to him in return.
So many times has she pressed herself close to him to indulge in his beating heart and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, and each time she embraces him, wakes up next to him, or holds him, she's able to feel that. More than a place of comfort for her, it's a reminder that he's alive, and she specifically thinks of him being alive because Noctis will die. Never once had she forgotten that future. She cannot not make it about him-- rather, could not. ] I...
[ Quiet, trembling, she begins to speak. ]
I want... this.
[ Her hands tighten upon his back, grasping at his shirt, relax, then tighten once more. ] I want to stay with you.
[ She buries her head against the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply. HIs scent, woodsy with a hint of citrus, reminds her of all the times they've spent together. ] I want to be one of those who makes you happy, who doesn't hurt you. [ With a desperate quiver of her voice, deathly silent, ] I want you to live.
[ --she struggles with that. Immense power at her fingertips, and fear eats her daily to use an iota of it to help. Her inaction harms him, yet more action could cause more harm. Paralyzed as so, all she can do is hope that in the time he has left, she can help his life be as wonderful as possible, and without harm. To provide comfort. So, she doesn't stop there. ] I don't--
I don't want you to be selfish--... because I don't want you to think that it's selfish to be with someone you love! [ Yes. This? This feels right to say. She's had very few relationships to use as examples and form her idea of what love should be like, but among the two she's seen in her own world, the pairs were unconditionally supportive of each other, they were there for each other, offering embraces, shoulders to cry on, and knew when the other was hurting or happy. They were together, they were one. ] It should never be selfish to love someone who you choose, Noct, why, you-- [ They, the both of them, really. Her head snaps up, and it's her turn to adopt a similar tone to his from before, pleading. ] --you're not selfish. You're the least selfish out of all of us! So... don't, don't say that. Don't say you're selfish when you love someone! [ It's bothered her more than she realized, being the object of someone's supposed selfishness as if she had led another to sin, the source of their struggle, turmoil, and conflict.
She cannot stand to be loved if it makes him hurt and call himself something so, so contrary and ugly as selfish, when he's anything but. ]
no subject
So many times has she pressed herself close to him to indulge in his beating heart and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, and each time she embraces him, wakes up next to him, or holds him, she's able to feel that. More than a place of comfort for her, it's a reminder that he's alive, and she specifically thinks of him being alive because Noctis will die. Never once had she forgotten that future. She cannot not make it about him-- rather, could not. ] I...
[ Quiet, trembling, she begins to speak. ]
I want... this.
[ Her hands tighten upon his back, grasping at his shirt, relax, then tighten once more. ] I want to stay with you.
[ She buries her head against the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply. HIs scent, woodsy with a hint of citrus, reminds her of all the times they've spent together. ] I want to be one of those who makes you happy, who doesn't hurt you. [ With a desperate quiver of her voice, deathly silent, ] I want you to live.
[ --she struggles with that. Immense power at her fingertips, and fear eats her daily to use an iota of it to help. Her inaction harms him, yet more action could cause more harm. Paralyzed as so, all she can do is hope that in the time he has left, she can help his life be as wonderful as possible, and without harm. To provide comfort. So, she doesn't stop there. ] I don't--
I don't want you to be selfish--... because I don't want you to think that it's selfish to be with someone you love! [ Yes. This? This feels right to say. She's had very few relationships to use as examples and form her idea of what love should be like, but among the two she's seen in her own world, the pairs were unconditionally supportive of each other, they were there for each other, offering embraces, shoulders to cry on, and knew when the other was hurting or happy. They were together, they were one. ] It should never be selfish to love someone who you choose, Noct, why, you-- [ They, the both of them, really. Her head snaps up, and it's her turn to adopt a similar tone to his from before, pleading. ] --you're not selfish. You're the least selfish out of all of us! So... don't, don't say that. Don't say you're selfish when you love someone! [ It's bothered her more than she realized, being the object of someone's supposed selfishness as if she had led another to sin, the source of their struggle, turmoil, and conflict.
She cannot stand to be loved if it makes him hurt and call himself something so, so contrary and ugly as selfish, when he's anything but. ]