Fics like Half Past Seven

“Does anyone want to tell me what’s going on?” Prompto stares at the two teens before him calmly. Which he is. Calm. Prompto Argentum is the epitome of calmness right now. Yes, he is. They don’t meet his gaze. Noctis coughs. “No one? Not even a small hint?” Luna folds her hands on her lap. She looks proper and adjusted despite her singed clothes, the soot and dirt and other questionable stains Prompto is having an utter headache thinking about. There is blood splattered on her cheekbones. Wisely, he does not ask. Noctis, per usual, looks like he’s gone through a train wreck five times. Prompto is calm. If there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s the waiting game. He could sit there for hours until one of them cracked and spilled—and they would. Noctis’s expression spasms when Prompto stares in his direction. “It’s all Luna’s fault,” says Noctis. Luna’s composure dwindles, and she sputters in a way that’s decidedly as un-Oracle-like as possible.

Fics like Half Past Seven

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