[He's quiet for a long moment, then exhales, recognizing what she's asking. They should... probably talk about this. Avoiding it isn't going to help anyone.]
Everything's... pretty intense right now. I wanted to clear my head.
[Fresh air can do wonders, right? It's not like he's dodging his problems again, ha ha.]
[ Once his head rests against hers, she breathes out again. She's relieved that he can admit that much to her, and for that she can't help a small smile. ] It certainly isn't. [ Fondly, ] Your head must be full of thoughts. It's so heavy against mine....
[ However, this is only the start, and with the joke aside, she falls silent, fingers tensing in his. ]
Ignis and Luna are two of those thoughts, aren't they?
They are, but I don't like to say heavy when it's about them. It's not their fault.
[They didn't ask to be here, nor did they ask for him to carry the burden of their previous selves, the words and the unfinished business left behind. It would be easier if he could forget the way they had, so they could decide what to do with their own feelings, rather than have him already know and choose for them.]
[ While she's yet to meet this Luna, she's already spoken with Ignis. He doesn't remember his previous stay. Of course it's not his (or Luna's) fault. They, like the rest of them, had been called here.
At first she had thought that Noctis would be glad to have those so dear to him back, and surely it's not that he doesn't feel that way, but she knows it's far more complicated than that. ] Mm. [ She nods quietly against his head, her eyes opening just enough so that she might look at their joined hands...
Suddenly, she feels as if there is something heavy upon her chest. ]
[He means it, every word. Nothing could describe the relief he'd felt to see both of them, particularly Luna considering the circumstances of the last time they'd seen one another alive. Luna had only just come from her own death, of course things are going to be highly emotional. It's different from before, when she'd barely escaped Insomnia before arriving here. And Ignis... Noct's disappearance into the Crystal must have rattled him enough to finally open up about some things. Who knew what else could happen, when they have so little to lose? What was he supposed to do, keep his mouth shut and pretend he doesn't know what he knows, or reveal secrets they might never have otherwise shared and upset them before they can bring it up on their own terms? Neither is a good answer, for a multitude of reasons.
His hand tightens a little around hers, his gaze fixed on the ground below.]
Last time... things were different. We weren't together.
[And Luna had wanted to be with him. Ignis had confessed.]
...I don't... want to hurt anyone. But someone's going to be, no matter what I do.
[ And by virtue of simply being with Noctis, she would be hurting them by proxy. Guilt crosses her expression at this thought.
It would be easier for Noctis to be with one of his own world, and she remembers how he had spoken of Luna months and months ago when she had still been present the first time, as well as how fondly he had spoken of Ignis just after he left. ]
They love you, even if they do not remember...? [ Of course they do. He's so easy to love, after all.
She could very well end up being the hurt one, should he choose them. Perhaps it would be better than way? Perhaps it would be easier for Noctis. She doesn't know, only that now the way they hold their hands feels so fragile, suddenly. ]
My heart always talks too much. Not so sure I should be listening to it.
[It's in jest, but at the same time, not. His heart wants to find a way to make everyone happy, but he knows very well that's impossible. A choice has to be made, and it's one he's already made, so all that remains is how to communicate that fact and handle the fallout. Or... more cowardly, how not to communicate, and pray that it all works out for the best. A little too optimistic for his usual luck, so that one's probably unlikely.]
I don't know how they feel. It could be different this time around, and we never got to sort it out for sure. Maybe I'm just being paranoid... worrying before it even matters.
[He's rambling, too. Trying to figure out what he wants and how to say it while saying it. She really does deserve a better answer than this... after a long moment he huffs another breath, annoyed at himself, and buries his face against her hair.]
I already decided how I feel, months ago. And- I'm happy, like this. It's not selfish to want to stay like this, is it...?
[Maybe it is. If pressed, he knows he has a lot of love to give- and he does love them. He just wants to be able to love them his own way, and like Era told him only days ago, there's room for them in his heart, just maybe not where they might wish to be.]
[ She wants to say, she adores listening to his heart, both metaphorically when he speaks of his feelings and literally. The early mornings when she's able to rest against him before he wakes when her head is lying close to his chest, she likes listening to him.
He's happy, he says, but it's complicated because he is with her. It's not selfish for him; however, perhaps it is for her. All of the wonderful moments she has with him... could be Ignis' or Luna's instead. Two who are mortal, unlike her. ] This position I'm putting you in... I'm sorry.
[That makes him jerk upright abruptly, startled, eyes wide. Clearly he had been rambling too much- and saying things without thinking about the implications that lay between the lines.]
That's not... I didn't mean it like that. You didn't do anything, and this isn't your fault. You know that, right? [His breath catches, those words turning over in his head again.] Pyra.
[She doesn't, does she. He's such an idiot- here he's trying to talk thoughtlessly through his problems, trying to avoid hurting people, and he's already hurting her.]
[ She meets his gaze with an uncertain expression. Helplessness causes her voice to waver, as if she's suddenly lost. ]
Isn't it?
[ The entire summer had been a dream with him, enamored and thrilled to be in love and loving another. She had forgotten all the consequences that come with... this, with her loving someone who is mortal. Her presence imposes upon their time, what little, fleeting time they have left for each other.
And she knows, of course she knows that he isn't blaming her, but that doesn't help the blame she places upon herself for this tangle. To add another complication, she's pained because she doesn't want to believe what she's saying. She wants to follow her "heart", too, to be with him, but how can she do that, when it could harm others' hearts? ]
You... the three of you. [ Distressed, guilted, her words quicken. ] You're from the same world. You're all mortal. What I'm doing-- I'm taking precious moments you could have with each other.
[He stares at her for a long moment, stunned that she'd just- come out and say it like that, kind of horrified by the implications. He shakes it off and pulls away from her, pushing himself to his feet so he can pace the roof, scuffing his hands through his hair. Shit. Shit.]
I shouldn't have said anything... you don't... [He curses under his breath, his tone growing frustrated.] Are you telling me to break up with you because they've got a better claim on me?
[That sounds so- so stupid, even more ridiculous as he says it out loud. Like they'd called dibs on his heart from childhood and she was just... what? Keeping his bed warm in their absence? Like she expects him to just throw away everything they've been through together]
[ His warmth leaves her, and she snaps her head up to look at him as he paces. Then, he says that. Breaking up-- ending their relationship because they deserve him. At first she wants to deny him, but it's true. Essentially, that is what she's saying.
It's not what she wants. But what if it is the right thing? Isn't it? With so little left ahead of them for Ignis and Noctis, and then nothing of a future for Luna... As he paces and runs a hand through his hair, she stands, wrapping her arms about herself uncertainly. What distresses her more is this, the exasperated comment of "I shouldn't have said anything".
Quietly, she tries again, tries to appeal to him. She wants him to be content, to be happy. Wouldn't he be that with them, more than she could ever provide, or has the right to? Who is she to deny what they could have, alien to their world, to say nothing of that she shouldn't have such feelings in the first place? ] They're of your world... They're human.
[ A pause, then gently: ] They're alive, here.
[ Finally, a whisper, soft as snow, and she lowers her eyes. ] And you are, too.
[The gentleness of her tone does nothing to ease the delivery of those words. His pacing halts like he's been struck, hands slowly dropping down from his hair to rest at his sides, his breath picking up speed. Those words, though. She'd paused, she'd thought about it. She'd meant to say them, said them carefully, not in a rush of emotion but with quiet intent.
"They're human.
They're alive.
You are, too."
He can take a lot. His tolerance for pain's always been high, thanks to having to endure so much of it over the years. If it were physical, he could handle it just fine, shrug it off and endure it. That one, though? That one hurt.
When he speaks again, his voice is harsh, wounded.]
Why would you say that?
[He doesn't need a reminder. He thinks about it every day of his life. He falls asleep worrying that he'll be pulled from this world in his sleep and sent back to the Crystal instead. His dreams are weighed down by the words of the Draconian. Sometimes he is caught by the thought at random, unaware and off guard: when he runs fast enough to feel a twinge of pain in his chest and remembers being stabbed, when he calls out a sword and remembers the magical blue of his ancestors as they kill him one by one, when he enters Mythra's crystal for a visit and remembers being dragged, screaming, into his own. He's doing fine and living his life like normal and then his brain slams down the breaks with the thought of oh, right, I'm going to die.
When he looks at Luna, or Ignis, or his father, or Ardyn. People who know or are involved in his fate. When he looks at Prompto, feeling guilty that he hasn't shared the truth yet. When he looks at Pyra, knowing her future fate echoes his own. He remembers. He's always remembering, over and over, and it isn't every time but it's enough that the times he forgets are so blessed, and the times he can make himself forget or be distracted make things easier.
Clenching his eyes and gritting his teeth, he tries to shove it aside. He doesn't want to think about it right now. He doesn't. This place is made for borrowed time, choices he doesn't get to make back home. She doesn't get to take that away from him, gently or otherwise.]
I don't care what we are. You know that, [he says quietly, still tense, no less hurt. He's slapped a bandaid over it but the wound is still open, bleeding.] I didn't think you did.
[What the hell is her goal, here? Force him into a corner, get him to admit he'll ditch her at the first whiff of greener pastures? Like he's a wild animal, meant to be with his own kind. Like his grandfather giving his dad grief for choosing a commoner as his wife instead of a more fitting noblewoman. Like she doesn't deserve him-
-and there, he forces himself to stop, to think, before he loses it completely. He doesn't think she'd been lying this whole time, so why? Why is she...?]
[ When she hears the recoil in his voice, her eyes widen, knowing that she's done the one thing she had never wanted to ever do. Not too long ago, she had pledged she never wanted to harm him, not even unintentionally. This time, it seems that she truly has. Guilt can maim her, but it's impossible to think of the way it stings when she sees how hurt he is.
She didn't mean to. She had wanted him to think not of her, but of others f his world, others who she believes loves him as well, others who are surely more deserving of him, who are like him, not some crystal immortal that had never meant to walk upon the earth. Others with whom he would have a chance to be happy with, with what time they have in this nexus called Aellyn. It's been on her mind too, most recently coming in without warning after a night of fully loving him, like a monster behind a door, only very real, obvious and ominous enough that she cannot deny it's there. She had been the one to bestow the vision, after all. One day he will die, too soon at that.
None of that matters, however. She can see how he struggles, the words she's so carelessly uttered now no different than that of the marilith's strikes upon his back. How long will these words of hers scar him? She wants to take everything back, but he asks a question first, and she should answer.
Gathering her thoughts, she does. He deserves an answer. ] Because... I think about it.
I think about how you will.... [ She looks away, quickly enough that her cropped hair flutters within the moment, bringing a hand to her mouth to cover a shaky breath. When she composes herself, she continues. ] How you will... [ He knows. ] More often, now. [ Breathlessly, ] More and more, because I keep on loving you more and more, and how I'm not doing enough for you, helping you. [ Her fingers curl inward into a fist, clutching over where her heart would be, as if it would be about to burst. Her eyes lift to meet his. ] Such as-- that morning after a long night together, it happened then. [ He had asked if she was alright. She had brushed it aside, not wanting to spoil the mood.
Her eyes fill with grief as she searches his face. She's sorry, she's sorry, and she's equally sorry that she's both hurt him and that she's infringed on what happiness he could have with others. ] I feel as if I'm denying you something you should have had while you were in your own world: an opportunity to be with them instead, and they, with you. [ Despite her words, she takes a step forward, towards him. While she's not unsteady she feels as if she could fall, but maybe that's just her selfish want to hold onto him that she doesn't. ] That happiness could be yours. Your life lived with them, in this world, could be yours! [ Because there is no way he'll have the same opportunity back in his own world. Desperately, more tears from her throat. ] Isn't that what you want? Isn't that-- isn't that what would hurt you less?
[He hears her out without interruption, but the more she speaks the harder it is to look at her. Eventually he glances away, fixing his gaze on some indeterminable point. It occurs to him a little too late that they're having this conversation in public, on some roof near the temple, and how absurd is it that this is the second time they've had something deeply personal occur between them for all the world to see. Their neighbours must be loving all this dirty laundry being aired. Gods, though, this is too important to even be distracted by that, so all he does is keep his voice low as he responds.]
How would it hurt me less, Pyra? To throw you away just because they showed up, like I'd gotten all I wanted from you, like they're better for me just because they're human? You said I was a good person, before. You think I'd ever want to do that? Is that good? Is that who you think I am?
[So many times she'd said it, she'd complimented him- that he's good, that he's wonderful, that he's perfect. And he's not really believed it (he's not, he's trying) but it's such a beautiful aspiration to work towards, the idea of being as good as she thinks he is, as wonderful as she deserves, as perfect as he can get while still remaining himself. He'd wanted to be all of that for her, because she makes him happy, because she does plenty for him and it's he who always feels like he's falling short of what she deserves. That he's selfish to stay with her when she's so amazing and loving and kind, but he's decided that he's okay with that so long as he can make her as happy as she makes him.
If she thinks him capable of this, what she's suggesting, how is he ever supposed to believe those words? If she's trying to do this under some misguided belief that it's for his sake... that isn't better. That doesn't make it okay. In many ways, it makes it worse. Like it's his fault, like he's just been waiting for the chance to replace her with someone more suitable, like he asked for this, when he just said what he'd wanted was-]
If- if you've got second thoughts about this, then say that. If you want to break things off, say that. But don't try to push it off on me like it's what I want and you're holding me back from it. Don't say- gods. [He grimaces abruptly, his breath catching, and he lifts his hands to cover his eyes, feeling more uncomfortably vulnerable than he's felt in ages, stricken and not wanting her to see the look on his face.] What did I do...?
[To make her think for even a second that he's capable of being so callous, even to force herself to consider it- where did he go wrong?]
[ She appear struck when within the span of a second, his frustration and anger that had been moments before delivered and displayed outward, turn inward instead. Pyra inhales sharply at the transition. She had felt as if she was falling before, but it seems that she's the one who's already kicked him to the ground. ] Wh-- no... Noct.
[ Of course he would blame himself. Just like her own self-blame for being a cause of complicated web of relationships they've found themselves in, he's thinking there is something he did wrong too.
That isn't the case at all.
It had been her. It had been her weakness, her own guilt and doubts that she hasn't overcome. If she is to be strong for him, those weaknesses can't exist in this relationship. So, then, why-- ]
[ ....While she had been the one to first kiss him, he had been the one to first say he loved her. How could she forget? Or any of those other times, holding her, embracing her, kissing her, reassuring her, being there for her, are they not all proof that he does love her?
This topic had been brought about her own anxieties, and in light of all of what he's done for her, she ought to believe them over her guilt. It's difficult because such festering is rooted in her, an innate belief that she should only be an observer, and barring that, gone because she will only cause harm.
...Yet mere moments later after he had confessed, she had said she wanted to be better for him. She cannot forget that, either. A wet, shaky breath passes from her lips, her voice quivering with his name. ] ...Noct.
[ She takes the last few steps forward, quickly and purposefully, to embrace him. ]
Noct, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way, I.... [ She fumbles, realizing that she may very well go into another hapless ramble of trying to explain herself, when it's obvious that all of what she's saying and doing is only causing him more harm.
A little too late, by the pain she's caused him alone, she realizes how her suggestion, while with good intentions, has insulted him, hurt him, and imposed on his own wants... which are more than clear now, that he wants to remain with her. (Why, why, when he's looking like that, when she's causing him grief? She's weak. She should be stronger for him, more secure. She said she wanted to be better for him!)
She must be better for him, otherwise this. Otherwise she hurts him by being careless. ]
I.... I'm sorry. [ She clings to him tightly, shutting her eyes as she buries her face into his chest. ] Nothing, you did nothing wrong. I was a fool suggesting this.
[He wants to hug her back immediately. Truly, he does. But he can't... he has to be sure. He hates the doubt that her worries have manifested in him, and before he commits to anything else or lets himself be distracted or comforted, he wants to understand- to help her understand. He can't just sweep all of this under the rug and pretend this is fine.]
Is... is that how you really feel, though? [About me. About us.] Do you believe I'd be happier with someone else? [His hands clench at his side, unclench, half-lift to touch her before dropping down again. He can't, he can't.] You said it for a reason. How long have you been worrying about this?
[Did he cause this? Did his moping, or his failure to communicate his indecision, develop this fear in her, or did it only bring what already existed into the light? It's possible that this whole time, either she didn't say anything or he missed whatever subtle signs she'd been giving him... neither option is good. He sure as hell doesn't feel like he did nothing wrong.]
[ In retrospect, it had been foolish for her to think that he would embrace her in return right after all that she's thrown at him. Her arms upon his shoulders slacken, her grip becoming lighter until she pulls partly away from him, allowing him his space. She finds not comfort in the way he looks at her, but conflict, further proof that he's still hurt.
Her voice trembles. ]
I've... never wanted to hurt you. Or anyone. [ A hand falls from his shoulder to the middle of his chest, and her eyes follow the movement as her palm rests above his heart. ] You know what I am, that doubt that I will harm others. You, too. [ So, wouldn't he be happy with someone else? He's speaking as if he wouldn't. He's insulted that she would suggest it. She doesn't understand. ] But I had forgotten it for a time, over the summer with you. [ Listening to herself, she feels she sounds pathetic, weak, for confessing her insecurities once more to him. At the same time she chastises herself for having forgotten in the first place when she had been so distracted by loving him. Loving him is wonderful. Having it slip her mind how harmful she could be to another, is not.
Her hand withdraws. ] A month ago... I was reminded of how important it is to not hurt you. [ Her eyes close briefly in a remorseful, heavy grimace. That's when the doubts began to resurface. Is she doing enough for him, is she harming him, could he not be happier with others instead? ]
[Her retreat hurts a little, but since he'd more or less asked for it, he says nothing, just watches quietly and listens as she explains. Reminded... not to hurt him? There's plenty of people who could have told her that, and while he appreciates the sentiment he's not thrilled about the results. He could ask her who, and is tempted to do so, but that would probably just invite another fight with another person, and he's already hating this one. He's sure they meant well. Just- now he has to deal with the fallout.]
Someone told you that? [He doesn't need to wait for an answer; the look on her face is enough, an earnest confession of guilt over a warning not heeded. It wouldn't be like her to lie in order to blame someone else for stirring up her insecurities.] A month... and you kept quiet this whole time.
[He turns then, rubbing at his forehead, and goes back to pacing for a long moment. She forgot, because she was happy- that she's some kind of weapon, that she's not human, that she's meant to cause harm. She remembered all of that, because she was asked not to hurt him. She remembered that he's going to die. And she's just- pretended that everything's been okay, that it hasn't bothered her, like that day in the shower when he'd forgotten to ask. And now she worries that any of that matters, because- what, she's got human competition now, in a contest no one else knows they're in, when it's already meant to be over because she won.
It's- it's a lot, and not something easily fixed. He can't just throw his hands up and go, "it's fine! you won't hurt me!" when they both know she just did. And he can't tell her not to be afraid of doing so again, because emotions don't work like that. He's had enough people tell him to get over it in his lifetime to know that's not how you resolve such a visceral worry. So what, then...?
With one last pace, he turns back to her again, and when he looks at her the distance between them feels both impossibly vast while at the same time not enough. He wants to go to her, but- not yet. Still, not yet. He needs to know.]
[ Fully parted from him, her hands return to clasp at her own arms. She watches him pace back and forth until she cannot watch him any longer, turning and bowing her head, only to look at him once more when he brings up another knife she’s plunged into him... only this time she’s no idea where it went.
“The worst of it.” Worse than... what she’s done already to him? Another slight against the one she loves, more proof she’s failed. That she’s doing what they have wrong. With all this against her, how could he say he’s happy with her?
She pales as she gazes at him, but remains steady. Now is the time to listen.
[Here he pauses first, rolling back over the conversation to make sure he's remembering it right, that the words that had stuck out to him linger still while he's had a moment to cool off.]
You said... you were putting me in this position. That you're taking my time away from them. That you're getting in the way of the happiness I could have with other people. "Isn't that what you want?" That's what you said. It didn't sound like a question.
[Each and every time. Taking. Denying. Hurting. All the things she claims that she's doing, when it's his time, his happiness, his wants. When next he speaks, he looks up at her, his gaze intense, intentional, still with that lingering hurt.]
Pyra. I'm the Chosen, not the Chooser. Remember?
[So much of his life had been set in stone from the moment he was born. His career, by the royal blood in his veins. His destiny, by the Crystal's magic that chose him as its final king. His marriage, false or not, by the good-will gesture of a conquering nation. His choices had been so, so small. Even his friendships- every one of them except Prompto and maybe Iris had been handed to him by fate or his father. He'd chosen to make them real, but he didn't pick them out from the start.
In this place, as long as he's been here, his choices have all been his own. Where to go, when to go there. How to spend his time. Who to spend it with.
Who to love.
She'd tried to take that from him, under the misguided belief that she might be less than what he deserves, and that is what hurt.]
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Then, perhaps a segue isn't necessary. ]
Too much on your mind to sleep, maybe?
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Everything's... pretty intense right now. I wanted to clear my head.
[Fresh air can do wonders, right? It's not like he's dodging his problems again, ha ha.]
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Is it working?
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Nope.
[What's the use of denying it when they both know?]
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[ However, this is only the start, and with the joke aside, she falls silent, fingers tensing in his. ]
Ignis and Luna are two of those thoughts, aren't they?
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They are, but I don't like to say heavy when it's about them. It's not their fault.
[They didn't ask to be here, nor did they ask for him to carry the burden of their previous selves, the words and the unfinished business left behind. It would be easier if he could forget the way they had, so they could decide what to do with their own feelings, rather than have him already know and choose for them.]
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At first she had thought that Noctis would be glad to have those so dear to him back, and surely it's not that he doesn't feel that way, but she knows it's far more complicated than that. ] Mm. [ She nods quietly against his head, her eyes opening just enough so that she might look at their joined hands...
Suddenly, she feels as if there is something heavy upon her chest. ]
I'm sure... they're both very glad to see you.
[ Regardless of when they had been pulled. ]
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[He means it, every word. Nothing could describe the relief he'd felt to see both of them, particularly Luna considering the circumstances of the last time they'd seen one another alive. Luna had only just come from her own death, of course things are going to be highly emotional. It's different from before, when she'd barely escaped Insomnia before arriving here. And Ignis... Noct's disappearance into the Crystal must have rattled him enough to finally open up about some things. Who knew what else could happen, when they have so little to lose? What was he supposed to do, keep his mouth shut and pretend he doesn't know what he knows, or reveal secrets they might never have otherwise shared and upset them before they can bring it up on their own terms? Neither is a good answer, for a multitude of reasons.
His hand tightens a little around hers, his gaze fixed on the ground below.]
Last time... things were different. We weren't together.
[And Luna had wanted to be with him. Ignis had confessed.]
...I don't... want to hurt anyone. But someone's going to be, no matter what I do.
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It would be easier for Noctis to be with one of his own world, and she remembers how he had spoken of Luna months and months ago when she had still been present the first time, as well as how fondly he had spoken of Ignis just after he left. ]
They love you, even if they do not remember...? [ Of course they do. He's so easy to love, after all.
She could very well end up being the hurt one, should he choose them. Perhaps it would be better than way? Perhaps it would be easier for Noctis. She doesn't know, only that now the way they hold their hands feels so fragile, suddenly. ]
What does your heart say?
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[It's in jest, but at the same time, not. His heart wants to find a way to make everyone happy, but he knows very well that's impossible. A choice has to be made, and it's one he's already made, so all that remains is how to communicate that fact and handle the fallout. Or... more cowardly, how not to communicate, and pray that it all works out for the best. A little too optimistic for his usual luck, so that one's probably unlikely.]
I don't know how they feel. It could be different this time around, and we never got to sort it out for sure. Maybe I'm just being paranoid... worrying before it even matters.
[He's rambling, too. Trying to figure out what he wants and how to say it while saying it. She really does deserve a better answer than this... after a long moment he huffs another breath, annoyed at himself, and buries his face against her hair.]
I already decided how I feel, months ago. And- I'm happy, like this. It's not selfish to want to stay like this, is it...?
[Maybe it is. If pressed, he knows he has a lot of love to give- and he does love them. He just wants to be able to love them his own way, and like Era told him only days ago, there's room for them in his heart, just maybe not where they might wish to be.]
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He's happy, he says, but it's complicated because he is with her. It's not selfish for him; however, perhaps it is for her. All of the wonderful moments she has with him... could be Ignis' or Luna's instead. Two who are mortal, unlike her. ] This position I'm putting you in... I'm sorry.
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That's not... I didn't mean it like that. You didn't do anything, and this isn't your fault. You know that, right? [His breath catches, those words turning over in his head again.] Pyra.
[She doesn't, does she. He's such an idiot- here he's trying to talk thoughtlessly through his problems, trying to avoid hurting people, and he's already hurting her.]
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Isn't it?
[ The entire summer had been a dream with him, enamored and thrilled to be in love and loving another. She had forgotten all the consequences that come with... this, with her loving someone who is mortal. Her presence imposes upon their time, what little, fleeting time they have left for each other.
And she knows, of course she knows that he isn't blaming her, but that doesn't help the blame she places upon herself for this tangle. To add another complication, she's pained because she doesn't want to believe what she's saying. She wants to follow her "heart", too, to be with him, but how can she do that, when it could harm others' hearts? ]
You... the three of you. [ Distressed, guilted, her words quicken. ] You're from the same world. You're all mortal. What I'm doing-- I'm taking precious moments you could have with each other.
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I shouldn't have said anything... you don't... [He curses under his breath, his tone growing frustrated.] Are you telling me to break up with you because they've got a better claim on me?
[That sounds so- so stupid, even more ridiculous as he says it out loud. Like they'd called dibs on his heart from childhood and she was just... what? Keeping his bed warm in their absence? Like she expects him to just throw away everything they've been through together]
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It's not what she wants. But what if it is the right thing? Isn't it? With so little left ahead of them for Ignis and Noctis, and then nothing of a future for Luna... As he paces and runs a hand through his hair, she stands, wrapping her arms about herself uncertainly. What distresses her more is this, the exasperated comment of "I shouldn't have said anything".
Quietly, she tries again, tries to appeal to him. She wants him to be content, to be happy. Wouldn't he be that with them, more than she could ever provide, or has the right to? Who is she to deny what they could have, alien to their world, to say nothing of that she shouldn't have such feelings in the first place? ] They're of your world... They're human.
[ A pause, then gently: ] They're alive, here.
[ Finally, a whisper, soft as snow, and she lowers her eyes. ] And you are, too.
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"They're human.
They're alive.
You are, too."
He can take a lot. His tolerance for pain's always been high, thanks to having to endure so much of it over the years. If it were physical, he could handle it just fine, shrug it off and endure it. That one, though? That one hurt.
When he speaks again, his voice is harsh, wounded.]
Why would you say that?
[He doesn't need a reminder. He thinks about it every day of his life. He falls asleep worrying that he'll be pulled from this world in his sleep and sent back to the Crystal instead. His dreams are weighed down by the words of the Draconian. Sometimes he is caught by the thought at random, unaware and off guard: when he runs fast enough to feel a twinge of pain in his chest and remembers being stabbed, when he calls out a sword and remembers the magical blue of his ancestors as they kill him one by one, when he enters Mythra's crystal for a visit and remembers being dragged, screaming, into his own. He's doing fine and living his life like normal and then his brain slams down the breaks with the thought of oh, right, I'm going to die.
When he looks at Luna, or Ignis, or his father, or Ardyn. People who know or are involved in his fate. When he looks at Prompto, feeling guilty that he hasn't shared the truth yet. When he looks at Pyra, knowing her future fate echoes his own. He remembers. He's always remembering, over and over, and it isn't every time but it's enough that the times he forgets are so blessed, and the times he can make himself forget or be distracted make things easier.
Clenching his eyes and gritting his teeth, he tries to shove it aside. He doesn't want to think about it right now. He doesn't. This place is made for borrowed time, choices he doesn't get to make back home. She doesn't get to take that away from him, gently or otherwise.]
I don't care what we are. You know that, [he says quietly, still tense, no less hurt. He's slapped a bandaid over it but the wound is still open, bleeding.] I didn't think you did.
[What the hell is her goal, here? Force him into a corner, get him to admit he'll ditch her at the first whiff of greener pastures? Like he's a wild animal, meant to be with his own kind. Like his grandfather giving his dad grief for choosing a commoner as his wife instead of a more fitting noblewoman. Like she doesn't deserve him-
-and there, he forces himself to stop, to think, before he loses it completely. He doesn't think she'd been lying this whole time, so why? Why is she...?]
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She didn't mean to. She had wanted him to think not of her, but of others f his world, others who she believes loves him as well, others who are surely more deserving of him, who are like him, not some crystal immortal that had never meant to walk upon the earth. Others with whom he would have a chance to be happy with, with what time they have in this nexus called Aellyn. It's been on her mind too, most recently coming in without warning after a night of fully loving him, like a monster behind a door, only very real, obvious and ominous enough that she cannot deny it's there. She had been the one to bestow the vision, after all. One day he will die, too soon at that.
None of that matters, however. She can see how he struggles, the words she's so carelessly uttered now no different than that of the marilith's strikes upon his back. How long will these words of hers scar him? She wants to take everything back, but he asks a question first, and she should answer.
Gathering her thoughts, she does. He deserves an answer. ] Because... I think about it.
I think about how you will.... [ She looks away, quickly enough that her cropped hair flutters within the moment, bringing a hand to her mouth to cover a shaky breath. When she composes herself, she continues. ] How you will... [ He knows. ] More often, now. [ Breathlessly, ] More and more, because I keep on loving you more and more, and how I'm not doing enough for you, helping you. [ Her fingers curl inward into a fist, clutching over where her heart would be, as if it would be about to burst. Her eyes lift to meet his. ] Such as-- that morning after a long night together, it happened then. [ He had asked if she was alright. She had brushed it aside, not wanting to spoil the mood.
Her eyes fill with grief as she searches his face. She's sorry, she's sorry, and she's equally sorry that she's both hurt him and that she's infringed on what happiness he could have with others. ] I feel as if I'm denying you something you should have had while you were in your own world: an opportunity to be with them instead, and they, with you. [ Despite her words, she takes a step forward, towards him. While she's not unsteady she feels as if she could fall, but maybe that's just her selfish want to hold onto him that she doesn't. ] That happiness could be yours. Your life lived with them, in this world, could be yours! [ Because there is no way he'll have the same opportunity back in his own world. Desperately, more tears from her throat. ] Isn't that what you want? Isn't that-- isn't that what would hurt you less?
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How would it hurt me less, Pyra? To throw you away just because they showed up, like I'd gotten all I wanted from you, like they're better for me just because they're human? You said I was a good person, before. You think I'd ever want to do that? Is that good? Is that who you think I am?
[So many times she'd said it, she'd complimented him- that he's good, that he's wonderful, that he's perfect. And he's not really believed it (he's not, he's trying) but it's such a beautiful aspiration to work towards, the idea of being as good as she thinks he is, as wonderful as she deserves, as perfect as he can get while still remaining himself. He'd wanted to be all of that for her, because she makes him happy, because she does plenty for him and it's he who always feels like he's falling short of what she deserves. That he's selfish to stay with her when she's so amazing and loving and kind, but he's decided that he's okay with that so long as he can make her as happy as she makes him.
If she thinks him capable of this, what she's suggesting, how is he ever supposed to believe those words? If she's trying to do this under some misguided belief that it's for his sake... that isn't better. That doesn't make it okay. In many ways, it makes it worse. Like it's his fault, like he's just been waiting for the chance to replace her with someone more suitable, like he asked for this, when he just said what he'd wanted was-]
If- if you've got second thoughts about this, then say that. If you want to break things off, say that. But don't try to push it off on me like it's what I want and you're holding me back from it. Don't say- gods. [He grimaces abruptly, his breath catching, and he lifts his hands to cover his eyes, feeling more uncomfortably vulnerable than he's felt in ages, stricken and not wanting her to see the look on his face.] What did I do...?
[To make her think for even a second that he's capable of being so callous, even to force herself to consider it- where did he go wrong?]
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[ Of course he would blame himself. Just like her own self-blame for being a cause of complicated web of relationships they've found themselves in, he's thinking there is something he did wrong too.
That isn't the case at all.
It had been her. It had been her weakness, her own guilt and doubts that she hasn't overcome. If she is to be strong for him, those weaknesses can't exist in this relationship. So, then, why-- ]
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This topic had been brought about her own anxieties, and in light of all of what he's done for her, she ought to believe them over her guilt. It's difficult because such festering is rooted in her, an innate belief that she should only be an observer, and barring that, gone because she will only cause harm.
...Yet mere moments later after he had confessed, she had said she wanted to be better for him. She cannot forget that, either. A wet, shaky breath passes from her lips, her voice quivering with his name. ] ...Noct.
[ She takes the last few steps forward, quickly and purposefully, to embrace him. ]
Noct, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way, I.... [ She fumbles, realizing that she may very well go into another hapless ramble of trying to explain herself, when it's obvious that all of what she's saying and doing is only causing him more harm.
A little too late, by the pain she's caused him alone, she realizes how her suggestion, while with good intentions, has insulted him, hurt him, and imposed on his own wants... which are more than clear now, that he wants to remain with her. (Why, why, when he's looking like that, when she's causing him grief? She's weak. She should be stronger for him, more secure. She said she wanted to be better for him!)
She must be better for him, otherwise this. Otherwise she hurts him by being careless. ]
I.... I'm sorry. [ She clings to him tightly, shutting her eyes as she buries her face into his chest. ] Nothing, you did nothing wrong. I was a fool suggesting this.
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Is... is that how you really feel, though? [About me. About us.] Do you believe I'd be happier with someone else? [His hands clench at his side, unclench, half-lift to touch her before dropping down again. He can't, he can't.] You said it for a reason. How long have you been worrying about this?
[Did he cause this? Did his moping, or his failure to communicate his indecision, develop this fear in her, or did it only bring what already existed into the light? It's possible that this whole time, either she didn't say anything or he missed whatever subtle signs she'd been giving him... neither option is good. He sure as hell doesn't feel like he did nothing wrong.]
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Her voice trembles. ]
I've... never wanted to hurt you. Or anyone. [ A hand falls from his shoulder to the middle of his chest, and her eyes follow the movement as her palm rests above his heart. ] You know what I am, that doubt that I will harm others. You, too. [ So, wouldn't he be happy with someone else? He's speaking as if he wouldn't. He's insulted that she would suggest it. She doesn't understand. ] But I had forgotten it for a time, over the summer with you. [ Listening to herself, she feels she sounds pathetic, weak, for confessing her insecurities once more to him. At the same time she chastises herself for having forgotten in the first place when she had been so distracted by loving him. Loving him is wonderful. Having it slip her mind how harmful she could be to another, is not.
Her hand withdraws. ] A month ago... I was reminded of how important it is to not hurt you. [ Her eyes close briefly in a remorseful, heavy grimace. That's when the doubts began to resurface. Is she doing enough for him, is she harming him, could he not be happier with others instead? ]
...I failed that.
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Someone told you that? [He doesn't need to wait for an answer; the look on her face is enough, an earnest confession of guilt over a warning not heeded. It wouldn't be like her to lie in order to blame someone else for stirring up her insecurities.] A month... and you kept quiet this whole time.
[He turns then, rubbing at his forehead, and goes back to pacing for a long moment. She forgot, because she was happy- that she's some kind of weapon, that she's not human, that she's meant to cause harm. She remembered all of that, because she was asked not to hurt him. She remembered that he's going to die. And she's just- pretended that everything's been okay, that it hasn't bothered her, like that day in the shower when he'd forgotten to ask. And now she worries that any of that matters, because- what, she's got human competition now, in a contest no one else knows they're in, when it's already meant to be over because she won.
It's- it's a lot, and not something easily fixed. He can't just throw his hands up and go, "it's fine! you won't hurt me!" when they both know she just did. And he can't tell her not to be afraid of doing so again, because emotions don't work like that. He's had enough people tell him to get over it in his lifetime to know that's not how you resolve such a visceral worry. So what, then...?
With one last pace, he turns back to her again, and when he looks at her the distance between them feels both impossibly vast while at the same time not enough. He wants to go to her, but- not yet. Still, not yet. He needs to know.]
Do you know what hurt the most? The worst of it?
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“The worst of it.” Worse than... what she’s done already to him? Another slight against the one she loves, more proof she’s failed. That she’s doing what they have wrong. With all this against her, how could he say he’s happy with her?
She pales as she gazes at him, but remains steady. Now is the time to listen.
Faintly, ]
Please.
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You said... you were putting me in this position. That you're taking my time away from them. That you're getting in the way of the happiness I could have with other people. "Isn't that what you want?" That's what you said. It didn't sound like a question.
[Each and every time. Taking. Denying. Hurting. All the things she claims that she's doing, when it's his time, his happiness, his wants. When next he speaks, he looks up at her, his gaze intense, intentional, still with that lingering hurt.]
Pyra. I'm the Chosen, not the Chooser. Remember?
[So much of his life had been set in stone from the moment he was born. His career, by the royal blood in his veins. His destiny, by the Crystal's magic that chose him as its final king. His marriage, false or not, by the good-will gesture of a conquering nation. His choices had been so, so small. Even his friendships- every one of them except Prompto and maybe Iris had been handed to him by fate or his father. He'd chosen to make them real, but he didn't pick them out from the start.
In this place, as long as he's been here, his choices have all been his own. Where to go, when to go there. How to spend his time. Who to spend it with.
Who to love.
She'd tried to take that from him, under the misguided belief that she might be less than what he deserves, and that is what hurt.]
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