"Gah!"
Furiously scratching at his wrist, Prompto mentally cursed the weird itchy, burning combination that both throbbed and shot pain through his nerves. While the venom from that weird spider daemon may not kill him, the incessant torture proved to be utterly excruciating. Sitting in the bathroom, Prompto watched his nails carve white streaks that contrasted with his black tattoo.
"Ah, just kill me now!" he growned.
A sharp knocked nearly made him jump out of skin. His leg did catch hold of the toilet cover, pulling it up, and forcing it to slam down against the lid.
"Everything alright, Prompto?" Ignis's voice held concern, which was mostly likely exasperated by the porcelain commotion.
"Yeah, fine," Prompto's voice came out strained as he bit his lip, trying to ignore his arm's agony.
"If you are experiencing constipation, I can whip up a vegetable stew…"
Prompto's eyes widened to double the normal size at the assumption. "I-it's not like that!" he yelled though the desperation in his tone sounded like a lie.
"Are you sure you are alright?"
"Fine!" he definitely fibbed that time. "My wrist is killing me. That's all. Need like daemon strength anti-itch cream."
"I will grab the first aid kit. I am certain there is a remedy to help with that."
Silence descended on the other side as footsteps retreated and then returned a couple minutes later. The knob twisted but refused to open.
"Prompto, please unlock the door so I may enter."
He stood, unlocked the door, but only cracked it open slightly. Peeking through the small sliver of space, Prompto stared Ignis in the eye.
"Thanks," he chirped, forcing a grateful smile. "I-I'll take that."
Prompto grabbed at the little medical box but the box pulled back out of reach. Ignis then pushed lightly at the door. Prompto immediately shifted his weight, pressing his body against the wood panel.
"Prompto, stop acting so juvenile. You obviously require medical assistance. At least allow me to ascertain the extent of your injury. We may need to seek a hospital if it's infected."
Prompto pondered for a moment. Unfortunately they were forced to stop at a small motel in the middle of nowhere. The outpost didn't even have a shop. However they had run out of funds and thus could not restock on necessary "curatives," as Ignis dubbed them, at their previous pit stop. Why did the man always have to sound so freaking smart? Releasing a reluctant sigh, Prompto stepped away only to immediately slam the door after he entered.
Prompto watched as Ignis stoically proceeded to rummage through the box. Taking his seat on the covered toilet, Prompto shoved his arm between his legs with his hand covering his wrist – partly to keep rubbing the itch while also concealing it from view. Kneeling in front of him, Ignis stared at the hidden arm and patiently waited for Prompto to allow him to inspect it.
"Prompto, I cannot help you if I cannot view the injury." Ignis held out his free hand as if beckoning the arm to come out from hiding.
Pouting, Prompto shakily offered his arm which was now rubbed raw and turning a bright red to match the fiery pain. Ignis proceeded to silently observed the puncture wound. Satisfied it was not infected, Ignis began cleaning the wrist to avoid any future infections.
"That is an interesting tattoo," Ignis casually commented as he continued to tend to the wound. "Does it hold any significance?"
Oh shit! Prompto's mind raced for a believable response but he just sucks so much at lying!
"Uuuuuh," he said stupidly, which absolutely did not help the situation.
While still looking at the wounds, Ignis quirked a quizzical eyebrow. Prompto was now certain Ignis was on to him. The young man was oddly overly perceptive. A soft groan tumbled out of Prompto's mouth.
"Honestly, I have no clue."
Ignis halted in his work and stared curiously into Prompto's eyes. Pressing his lips, Prompto looked like a guilty criminal. Ignis furrowed his eyes in response.
"Look," Prompto began. "I'll tell ya but it's just between the two of us. Deal?"
Ignis pulled back in hesitation. Prompto's heart raced fearing Ignis might prepare to attack him or flee and tell on the others. Either way Prompto just screwed himself over…big time! Backed into a corner (quite literally actually), Prompto slumped in defeat.
"My parents don't like talking about it. They said I really shouldn't tell others either. That people are super judgmental and hateful." Prompto sighed while wringing he hands. "You see, I'm actually adopted. I've always known that I am. My parents used to avoid talking about where I came from. Honestly I still don't know all of the details, not sure how much they even knew. Anyway, when I was older they finally told me that I was actually born in Niflheim. I'm not sure when exactly I left, but I know my parents adopted me when I was a year old. They only told me that detail when I started school since they lectured me big time about hiding the tattoo - that if anyone found out the truth then I would be bullied and stuff."
Prompto held his breath as he waited for Ignis's final judgement. He watched trying to see the gears turn in Ignis's mind.
"It is an unfortunate realization that the Empire will resort to branding mere infants. I never thought Emperor Aldercapt would have employed such techniques in order to account for his citizens. You are quite lucky to have escaped such inhumane conditions."
Ignis's warm smile made Prompto's heart flutter. His tense muscles relaxed now fully trusting that his secret was safe.
"So, you won't tell the others, right?" His voiced begged more than he desired but by this point he threw all dignity out of the window.
"No. This is your story. You should be the one in control of when to share it."
Throwing himself off the seat, Prompto wrapped his arms around Ignis's neck and whispered, "thank you."
Ignis returned the embrace and mumbled, "of course."
Peeling the younger man off of him, Ignis continued tending to Prompto's injuries. For the first time, Prompto held on to the hope that one day the others will truly be able to accept all of him.