"Come one," Ignis grunted as he fumbled with his keys. Fishing for them out of his pocket was already a hassle with his hands full of groceries. Why did he ever burden himself with doing a full load all in one go? It was Friday night though, and Noctis needed his weekly restock of rations. However, the prince should really be responsible for his own shopping. After all, he did want his independence. With that conclusion, Ignis made a mental note to drag Noctis with him next time for on-the-job-training.

Finally finding the right key, Ignis attempted to align it with the lock but the weighted bags sent trembles through his arms. The key shook and missed its destination a couple of times before it found its way. Once the knob turned and the door swung open, Ignis dropped the bags into the entryway. Staring at his red hands, he winced at the stinging pain as he opened and closed them to recirculate the blood. After regaining some feeling, he bent down and pulled his shoes off. Catching a glimpse of Noctis's shoes haplessly thrown onto the floor, Ignis sighed while placing them along with his pair onto the shoe rack. Through his fatigue he nearly missed a small detail – a second pair of shoes. While not thrown off as carelessly, one shoe stood appropriately upright while the other was knocked over and laid a few centimeters away from its partner as if someone had tripped over it. Ignis picked the shoes up and also placed them on the rack. Even though he did not know the identity of the owner it irked him to leave potential tripping hazards.

Picking the bags up, he proceeded to the kitchen. As he passed the living room, he peeked around the corner, but Noctis was nowhere in sight. Finding the weight unbearable, Ignis relieved his arms by setting the groceries on the counter before resuming his investigation for the elusive teenager. That was until his foot ran into a crumpled uniform jacket that somehow missed the back of the dining room chair that Ignis could only assume was the intended target. Growling, he snatched the jacket of the ground, gripping it tightly.

The boy might be the future king but he surely cannot expect others to constantly clean up after him just so he can make another mess, Ignis seethed as he a stormed toward Noctis's bedroom. As his eyes landed on the closed door, he slowed his pace to a stop. He never closes the door.

Approaching the door, he gripped the knob but muffled voices caused him to freeze.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Noctis inquired doubtfully.

"Yeah…s-sure," the shaky voice responded. A voice he did not recognize.

Silence descended for a few seconds before the mystery visitor added, "Uuuuh, I don't think it'll fit."

"It should fit," Noctis replied matter-of-factly.

Ignis narrowed his eyes as he continued to eavesdrop. His hand never left the doorknob though he was uncertain if he should enter the room. A side of him urged Ignis to walk away but instead he found himself pressing his ear closer.

"I'm telling ya, Noct, it won't budge. I'm pushing but it's not going in." The visitor's voice trembled with uncertainty.

"Here, let me try," Noctis offered. A soft rustling followed as his body shifted position…one the bed?

Ignis's cheeks burned as he bit his lower lip. His heart thumped as he debated whether to flee the apartment or silently slip into the kitchen to prepare dinner and feign ignorance of whatever activities the sixteen-year-old prince was currently engaged in. Yet an invisible force compelled him to linger. So Ignis settled on formulating an appropriate speech about responsibility and personal health.

Again, Ignis heard nothing until Noctis roared, "Ow!"

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" the second voice adamantly professed. The apology was sincere as well as panicked.

"I'll be fine," Noctis reassured despite his voiced being tainted with pained aggravation. "Just don't ram it in like that."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I don't get why this isn't working though. What the hell are we doing wrong?"

"Ooh! You got any lube? It would help make it slip in probably."

"Nah, I got nothing. So now what?" A tired sigh faintly came through the door. How long had they been persisting to no avail?

"There's only one option left…gonna have to force it in."

That's it! Ignis saw no other choice but violate Noctis's privacy. It was for his own well-being. Twisting the knob, Ignis forced the door open, slamming it into the wall. The visitor jumped, releasing a yelp. Simultaneously, an object was launched at him, smacking him in the chest. Peering down Ignis found a paper ball resting at his feet. Scanning the room, he found the two teens sitting on the floor with their legs crisscrossed. Between them was a catapult, lopsided and threatening to fall apart.

With puzzlement scribbled all over his face, Ignis found his voice and asked, "What is going on here?"

"Stupid physics project," Noctis grumbled. Holding up a metal rod, he added, "Trying to get this piece in to stabilize the catapult but I think the hole was drilled too small."

"But we measured it. It should have fit. If we make the hole too big we'll be screwed." The blonde boy flopped dramatically to the ground as he lamented over their predicament.

"Noctis, do you care to introduce me to your guest."

"Hm? Oh, right. This is Prompto."

"Hey!" Prompto chirped with a small salute.

Ignis gave a glance over of the skinny boy. His cheery disposition was as bright as his blonde locks. Deciding that the boy posed no threat, Ignis returned his gaze to Noctis.

"Will Prompto be joining us for dinner?"

The boy perked up hopefully at the mention of free food.

"Uh-huh," Noctis nodded while he fidgeted with the catapult. His brows furrowed and teeth gritted together as he focused on his project.

Reassured that all was well, Ignis quietly exited the room and gently closed the door.

"So is he your roommate or something," Ignis heard through the door.

"Nah," Noctis responded. "We grew up together. He likes to come around and bug me, but he means well. Great cook though. You're in for a treat."

Ignis couldn't decide if he should be bothered or honored by the description. As he made his way back, Ignis realized he was still holding the jacket, the original reason he was searching for Noctis. With a heavy sigh, he tossed the garment over the chair and returned to the kitchen. Pinching his nose, Ignis reflected on how none of his training adequately prepared him for the adventures of advising a teenager.