While this is a reader-insert type of deal, it's not interactive and the MC has enough personality that she could be an original character if I were less lazy. I just didn't want to give her descriptors so anyone could step into her shoes. Don't think about it too much and enjoy the mess.
The air was cold, the leaves along the sidewalk were crunchy, and each person you passed by stopped you to ask if they could pet the baby chocobo in your arms. By the fourth person attempting to stop you, you were practically running. Because it was too cold, you didn't like people prodding at you, and you were in a hurry.
Prompto's apartment was only two blocks away from your own, yet it felt much more distant with all the attention you were getting because of the chocochick. Which was another reason to hurry; it was actually pretty heavy.
"I thought birds had hollow bones," you murmured to the chick as you rushed through a crosswalk. It kwehed softly, looking up at you, and you held it a little closer. It was far too cute to be annoyed with. Though only a rental, it was going to be a killer present for your friend.
Prompto's apartment building came into view, and you smiled in relief. Five flights up —how could such a tall building not have an elevator— and you were panting outside his door. You caught your breath before knocking, telling yourself that being an hour late was still fashionable.
The chick tugged at the drawstring of your jacket as you knocked. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Prompto had said a birthday present was optional but strongly suggested you to just be cool when you get here, whatever that meant. He shouldn't be one to talk about being cool. You were bringing a pretty good gift so he'd better not complain about the lateness. You'd work on the being cool part.
As soon as the door opened, you grinned, the usual, "Hey, Prom, ready to get trashed!" coming out of your mouth. But standing in the entrance, halfway blocking your path, was someone you didn't recognize. Someone who looked far too well dressed to be attending one of Prompto's parties, at least. He gazed at you, confusion clear on his face, hand on the door as if he were ready to close it on you any moment.
So much for being cool.
"Uh, hi," you said, trying to look past him. He was too tall, though, and you found yourself standing on your tiptoes, looking for a familiar face in the apartment behind him. "Is Prompto home?"
It was a dumb question, and you knew it was a dumb question. But a small part of you worried you'd gotten the date wrong. Even as you heard the music coming from the apartment, even as you caught glimpses of party decor behind the man, you let that little thought bother you. Prompto was one of your only friends, and you liked to think you were pretty close to him, but he'd never invited you to meet any of his other friends until now. What if he'd changed his mind and didn't want you to come?
"You made it!"
As if sent by the gods to get you to just stop doubting yourself for once, Prompto pushed lightly past the man at the door, who had yet to speak but gave you a scrutinizing look through his glasses. It made you appreciate the way Prompto put an arm around your shoulder, ushering you into his apartment, away from the stranger.
"I almost thought you'd bail on me," he said, looking from your face to the chocobo in your arms. His eyes lit up, realization dawning on him so clearly you almost laughed. "Is that—!" He looked like he didn't know what to do with himself, putting the drink in his hand on his coffee table to take the bird from your arms. It kwehed, and he laughed, snuggling it to his chest. Was he crying?
You slid your amused gaze across the room, feeling successful in your birthday gift to him, and tried to assess the situation you'd be dealing with all night. Your anxiety couldn't handle too many new faces. Thankfully, not too many. Like, only three, actually. All dudes from what you could tell. Oh, Prompto.
The man with glasses was leaning toward another, speaking too quietly for you to hear. You pretended not to notice the way Glasses motioned vaguely toward you, making the other one—a large, tattooed man— look your way. They seemed strangely familiar, probably some friends of Prompto's in the photography program? Prompto was kind of weird about you meeting his other friends for some reason. Maybe this was why; they seemed… judgemental just based on the few minutes you've been here.
You looked around, seeing the two guys from before and finding the third one sitting alone on the sofa with his nose in his phone. You'd walked into a very small sausage fest.
Prompto handed you a drink in a plastic cup, the only certainty of its contents being that it was alcoholic. It seemed birthday boy made a disastrous drink for everyone to equally suffer through.
The drink made you grimace, and you directed your gaze at the one person who hadn't so much as looked your way. He was slouched down on the sofa. Really, you could barely tell anything about him from where he was sat. It was almost as if he were trying to hide in plain sight.
Downing a much larger gulp of the abomination Prompto had decided was the night's drink of choice and trying not to die in the process, you walked over to the sofa and sat next to the guy.
"Hi," you said, putting your cup on the coffee table next to Prompto's. "How do you know Prom?"
He didn't look inclined to answer, not that it mattered because Prompto decided that was the moment you guys were going to begin a tour of his favorite video games. Encouraging everyone to join, he began to set everything up. The guy next to you perked up at that, standing up and joining Prompto in the setup process. You blinked, realizing where you'd seen him before.
You watched with surprise as prompto elbowed the prince of Lucis, the chocobo in his arms kwehing excitedly, both guys snickering about something you couldn't make out.
Suddenly the suggestion to be cool made total sense.
The sofa slumped heavily as someone sat where Noctis had been. Looking over, you weren't terribly surprised to see the tattooed man. Now you knew why he seemed familiar; he was an important Crownsguard member. You'd seen him in the background of most televised political events. You tried your best to be calm near someone who could probably snap you in half.
"Uh, hey," you greeted, introducing yourself while reaching for your terrible drink. "How do you know Prom?" You decided giving him the same lines as Noctis would be best.
The guy smirked. "Friend of a friend. Though he's really grown on me."
"He does that," you said, taking a generous drink from your cup. Another wince, and you were done. Prompto loved to mix drinks for his parties, and they were always a nightmare on the senses. Usually you humored him with a drink or two but this was hard to choke down.
The tattooed man chuckled, and you struggled to remember his name. You didn't care much about politics unless it involved some juicy drama. Like the time Prince Noctis had apparently run away from Insomnia to live on a chocobo farm a few months ago. Obviously not true, but hilarious nonetheless. You looked at the prince again, blinking when you realized he was leaning over the coffee table to hand you a controller. You thanked him as you took it, and he nodded.
"I'm Gladiolus," said the guy next to you, regaining your attention. He'd managed to rest an arm on the sofa behind your shoulders without you realizing it. "How do you know the pipsqueak?"
That had to be Prompto, and though you didn't appreciate the sudden closeness, the moniker made you laugh. "We met last semester. Had a class together." You shrugged, turning on your controller. You felt the barest touch of his arm above your shoulder, fighting an eye roll.
Prompto used a foot to push the coffee table out of the way and sat on the floor in front of you. You hurried to place your cup on the table and join the game, taking that opportunity to get away from Gladiolus. When you returned to sit beside him, he'd dropped his arm to his lap, his own cup of Prompto's special nightmare drink in hand.
"He's always torturing us with new drink ideas," you said, nodding at the cup in his hand.
Drinking it easily, he frowned. "Prefer wine myself." He toed at Prompto's back. "What's in this?"
"All my favorite drinks," Prompto replied, not turning around.
"Prompto-themed party, apparently," Noctis said with a snort.
You snickered, asking, "Have you guys not suffered Prompto's drinks before?"
Prompto elbowed your leg, but Gladiolus chuckled. "He made a meat pie drink once. Used three different steaks and broke Noct's blender."
"I said I was sorry about that!" Prompto defended as he went through the menu screens. "You liked it, right Noct?"
"Yeah," Noctis said, looking over his shoulder at you while shaking his head slightly. You snickered again, joining the game. Maybe they were cool after all.
The only people not playing were Gladiolus and Glasses, who you definitely recognized as another important member of the prince's retinue, but couldn't place his name. He sat on the other side of Gladiolus, watching everything quietly.
At some point, the chocobo in Prompto's lap decided it wasn't getting enough attention. It clawed its way up to you, past Gladiolus and into the guy's empty lap. He seemed surprised, but ran gloved hands across its soft feathers after a little hesitation. No one could resist a baby chocobo, not even someone who looked like the most uptight guy on Eos.
Prompto pouted, looking over his shoulder, briefly distracted by the abandonment. The rest of you used that moment to gang up on his character, and you giggled when he quickly realized what was happening, attention snapping back to the screen.
When it was time to choose the next level, you gave Gladiolus the controller, excusing yourself to go outside. This party was so much smaller than any you'd ever been to, for which you were eternally grateful to Prompto. But the sheer importance of the few people there kind of wigged you out. Prompto had occasionally mentioned his best friend in a vague sense for as long as you'd known him, and his hush hush attitude about it always made you suspicious of its validity. You'd thought he was embarrassed that his best friend was actually his mom or someone imaginary, not the prince of Lucis himself.
No one seemed to care when you stepped out onto the fire escape, lighting up a joint you'd picked up while on campus. It was the only way you knew how to relax. Leaving the window cracked just enough so that the smoke wouldn't waft into Prompto's apartment, you leaned against the railing and watched people pass by below. The wind picked up a little. You pulled your light jacket around yourself tighter, not that it made a difference. The sun was setting so it was about to become even colder.
A group of teens walked along the sidewalk across the street. You watched them smash a pumpkin on someone's stoop before running away, rounding a corner. Did you just witness a crime? Probably not. Unless being a complete jackass was a crime. You took a deep drag, not wanting to think about it. It was your best friend's birthday for Shiva's sake.
"Excuse me."
You turned, joint caught between your lips as you noticed Glasses at the window, chocobo in his arms. He was leaning down slightly, peering through the glass just inches from you. It would've been funny if you weren't a bit startled by how handsome he actually was up close like this. He lifted a hand to adjust the glasses on his face, the chocobo's feathers ruffling as it shifted in his arms.
You took the joint from your mouth, licking your lips absently. "Yeah?" His name was on the tip of your tongue. You'd read something really funny about him recently in a tabloid. Or maybe it was some other royal retainer? The curiosity of it bit at the edge of your mind, but it was easily pushed aside as you took another drag, enjoying the waves of calm covering you.
"Would you mind being responsible for your gift?" He lifted the chocobo, as if you wouldn't have known what he meant.
The waning sunlight glinted off of the glass between you, and you could see your reflection over his frustrated expression. You looked tired, as always, and hated seeing the reminder. Looking away, back out at the neighboring buildings, you said, "Sure, one sec."
A final pull of the joint, and you put it out against the brick siding. You heard the window sliding open, and turned to help him get it up. Prompto lived in an ancient building, everything creaked and things like windows and door hinges were known to be stubborn. The guy would have a hard time getting it open with only one hand.
You expected a thanks or at least some kind of relief on his face when you helped him slide it open, but he only continued to look annoyed. He visibly stilled at your proximity, both of you sharing the window space, no longer separated by a layer of glass. You held your hands out for the chocobo, but he was looking at you carefully, unmoving.
"Were you smoking marijuana?" The question was sudden, his tone disapproving. The chocobo kept shifting in his arms, reaching its beak up to his face to nip at him. He barely seemed to notice, intent on scolding you.
Mind lulling from the pleasant high, you shrugged. "Uh, yeah?"
His mouth a straight line, he shook his head. "That's a criminal offense," he began. "I suggest you—" He was cut off abruptly when the chocobo snatched the glasses from his face, hopping from his arms into yours.
You gasped, falling back several steps as you caught it in your arms. Glasses stumbled over his words, an arm reaching through the window to get his spectacles back. His fingers softly brushed the chocobo, then your arms, not quite reaching. He looked so startled, acting quickly and stepping out through the window after the bird. It was enough to make you laugh, though you found yourself surprised as well when the chocobo jumped from your arms and glided right down to the sidewalk below, glasses still held firmly in its beak.
He cursed under his breath once he was next to you a moment later. You watched the chocobo wander down the sidewalk for a second before you bolted down the fire escape stairs. This was bad; the chocobo should not be loose in the streets. You struggled against the relaxed state of your mind, checking on the chocobo after each flight of stairs you descended. This wasn't the best thing to be doing while high.
At the bottom, you had to kick the ladder down using all of your weight. At each rung as you climbed down, you called for the chocobo to come to you. But it wandered further, completely ignoring you in favor of literally anything else near it —a leaf in the wind, some colorful trash on the ground. By the time your feet hit the pavement, it had disappeared.
"We must hurry." Glasses stepped down from the ladder, eyes slightly narrowed in the direction the chocobo had went. You nodded, a little surprised at his intent to join you in the pursuit. Without his glasses, he looked just as serious but less intimidating.
You walked down the street, the man at your heel, and surveyed the area for any sign of the little yellow ball of feathers. It was nowhere to be seen, which seemed impossible. It couldn't be that fast, could it?
Oh, but wait. What's that?
"A clue!" You pointed at a yellow feather, nestled between some autumnal decor on someone's stoop. Picking it up, you showed it to the man before walking farther. It didn't seem to lead anywhere, but you had to continue on. You hated the thought behind it, but you kept checking the road for any sign of the little bird just in case the worst happened. Not that you'd seen any cars pass recently.
"Not so much a clue, really," the man spoke up, steps behind you.
Stopping at a crosswalk, you spared a flat look at him over your shoulder. But he wasn't looking at you. Instead, he'd noticed something along the sidewalk around the corner and turned to keep walking rather than stop and cross the street with you. Curious, you followed him past a few shops before he bent down to retrieve his glasses. While he inspected them, you searched for the chocobo again. It had to be nearby.
"You ought to make better choices," he said as he slid the glasses back into place.
Your gaze went to him, confusion clear on your face. "What?"
"Of all the birthday gifts," he said, eyes suddenly very scrutinizing. "You had to choose a live chocobo. It's not a children's party."
"Prompto loves chocobos," you said with a shrug, thinking that explanation should be enough.
"Even so." With the glasses on again, his intimidating demeanor returned. Not in a threatening sense. More like you felt you needed his approval. It was a gross feeling that your hazy mind rejected. He dusted some imaginary lint from his jacket. "It was a poor choice."
Crunching a few leaves beneath your feet as you shifted your weight, you kept your gaze steady to his and asked, "What's with you, Glasses?"
"Pardon?"
You raised a brow. "You're reprimanding me like I'm some kid you have to babysit, and you haven't even introduced yourself yet."
His eyes widened in realization. "Oh," he said, looking away, not in embarrassment but in confusion. "My apologies. I'd forgotten in our haste…"
You held a hand out, and he trailed off, looking down and taking it in his for a quick shake. Never in your life had you shaken someone's hand like that as a greeting. But something had you thinking he would appreciate the gesture. His hand was too soft and too warm, and it wasn't until he let go that you realized how cold you were.
"Prompto's mentioned you," he said once you'd introduced yourself to each other. The comment itself didn't seem to imply anything negative, but the way he'd avoided speaking to you at first meeting had you thinking this Ignis person didn't think highly of what Prompto had said of you. Instead of thinking about that you suggested furthering the search before you lost hope. Plus you were freezing.
"There are typically trackers placed on such rentals," he said, giving an alleyway a cursory glance as you both passed.
"I don't want the rental place to know I lost their chocobo," you told him. You pulled your jacket around you a little tighter, but, like before, it made no difference.
"They'll likely charge you a fee," he continued. He sounded entirely unsympathetic and almost as if he'd already given up the search.
Thoughts were conflicting in your mind —missing chocobo, handsome man saying dumb things, Prompto wanted you to be cool— and you tried your best to sift through them with some effort. It was hard to focus. The itching at the edge of your mind returned, the question of where you'd heard of this guy coming back to the forefront. Ignis Scientia. You'd definitely heard that name recently.
Then it clicked.
"You're the count with the dark secret," you said, stopping mid step and pointing at him. "Last month, the Insomnian Enquirer wrote an article about you."
He looked surprised again, for only a moment before his expression morphed into chagrin. "Why am I not surprised you read such tripe?"
Thinking back on the article, you walked forward again, eyes roaming the street. The title had been "Count Scientia Harbors Dark Secret" only they'd made an extreme typo and left out the 'o' in count. You let his comment pass because it was a pretty embarrassing thing to happen to a person; of course he'd hate you bringing it up.
Okay, you thought as you stopped at another crossing, you needed to focus. Just be cool and focus, and you'd find that damn chocobo.
At the end of the block, a group of people in costumes stood outside a nightclub that was absolutely bumping with music. They filtered in slowly, a few staying behind to smoke or talk. A bouncer at the entrance eyed you and Ignis as you stopped in front of the club. You approached him first, smiling though he only deigned to look at you blankly.
"Have you seen a baby chocobo come by?" You asked, lifting your hands up to gesture. "It's, like, this big and it's yellow."
The man slid his gaze between you and your temporary companion before speaking. "I saw a couple take one inside a few minutes ago."
Your jaw dropped a little. Someone had the audacity to actually steal the poor little chocobo? "But that's my chocobo! Can I go inside and get it back?"
"The fee's ten gil," he said, crossing his arms.
You slapped at your pockets, frowning. You'd left your bag at Prompto's. All you had on you was your phone. Pulling it out, you noticed you'd gotten a new message.
Prompto: where r u?
You didn't open the text, sliding your phone back into a pocket and looking at the bouncer pleadingly. "I only want to grab the chocobo and leave. Please?"
"Ten gil," the bouncer repeated. His gaze went from you to Ignis again. "Per person. Couples only."
Standing back as a few more costumed partiers paid and entered the club, you looked at Ignis, feeling determined but probably looking haggard as hell. You were very cold and the ability to keep your thoughts straight was seemingly beyond you at this time. "I'll pay you back," you started off. "We just go in and get it back. It's like two minutes, tops."
Ignis pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Think reasonably for a moment," he said, eyes flitting to the bouncer for a second. "He could be lying just to get money from us."
You eyed the bouncer again, and he looked at you blankly. He didn't seem all that clever. "He's just doing his job," you said, looking at Ignis again. "C'mon, it's your fault the chocobo got lost in the first place."
He started. "My fault?"
You smiled at how reactive he was before he quickly schooled his features. "Yes, you're the one who held it out the window. Now, take responsibility for your poor choices and pay the man." Catching the way his eyes narrowed behind his glasses, you tacked on, "Please."
A long moment passed, then he pulled out his wallet to give the man twenty gil. He frowned at the band put on his wrist at the door, but you grinned at him as he waited for them to put one on you.
"Thanks, Ignis," you said, looking at the colorful band. It was better than the stamps that some clubs put on your hands. Sometimes those took days to wear off. Stepping through the entrance, you heard Ignis grumble about the club not carding either of you. You weren't going to complain. You were old enough to enter, but seeing as you didn't have your ID on you, their low attention to legal practice was working in your favor.
The effects of entering the club were immediate. It was suddenly warm, then hot as you walked between crowds of people. The change sent chills over your cold skin, grateful for the warmth, however intense. The bass from the music reverberated off the walls and floor, and you found yourself walking toward the dance floor. A hand on your arm stopped you just steps from the strobe lites, and you looked over your shoulder to see Ignis shaking his head. Sheepishly, you nodded and followed him toward the bar instead.
You leaned on the only open space of the bar, trying to get the bartender's attention. He zoomed about, skipping over you in favor of people holding up empty glasses. You looked back at Ignis, who seemed to understand without you asking. He leaned into you, pressing you a little into the bar and casually raising a hand with a largely numbered note of gil between his fingers. The bartender suddenly noticed you, asking just over the music what he could get you.
"Two bourbon, neat," Ignis said, pressing against your back as he handed the man the bill. His voice rang so clearly in your ear, over the bassline and the shouts of other patrons. "The finest that will get, if you will."
You elbowed him, feeling uncomfortable by how nice he smelled, and he backed away a step. The bartender placed two glasses on the bar in front of you. As he poured the drinks, you asked, practically yelling, "Have you seen a baby chocobo?"
He pushed the glasses your way, nodding toward a doorway you could just make out on the far wall, obscured by costumed dancers. "One was taken to the lounge maybe ten minutes ago."
You nodded, taking one of the cups, handing one to Ignis as you turned around. You guessed the other was meant for you, and even if it wasn't, you were already holding your breath and taking a drink. Liquor was your go-to, less calories than beer and not nearly as bitter as wine, but you were used to the cheaper stuff. It burned going down. Holding your breath had been a good idea, keeping you from coughing at the sensation. Taking another drink, probably too soon after the first —you were young and getting crossfaded was nothing new— you stepped away from the bar, pushing past a few people as you made your way to the "lounge".
On the way there, you were stopped by a sexy, feminine jester of some sort. It wasn't lost on you that you and Ignis were the only people not wearing Halloween costumes. It was the Saturday before Halloween. Maybe Prompto's party was so small because everyone else he invited had other parties to attend, like this one.
"Hey, sweetheart. Wanna dance?"
You leaned into the hand touching your upper arm, the person's painted face drawing close to yours. Clowns weren't even remotely your thing, but she had a sultry tone you kind of liked.
"No, thank you," Ignis answered for you, putting a hand on your shoulder and steering you away from them.
"That was rude of you," you said, though you were grateful. You needed to keep your thoughts on track, flirting was only a distraction. You finished off your drink with a grimace and put it on a table as you passed, amused at how bad you were at this. You'd just wanted to calm your nerves on the fire escape, as you often did at Prompto's parties, and now you were trying to grasp some sense of control with no actual finesse.
You blamed Ignis. It had been hard when you were just high, but now there was music thrumming so loudly through you, the heat of the atmosphere making you unzip your jacket, a firm hand on your shoulder that slid down your arm to your wrist, and a buzz enveloping your mind as the alcohol settled in your empty stomach.
The lounge was quieter, though not by much, just through an open archway. Less people littered the open space, most patrons sitting at tables where cards were in hand and chips were being pushed around. You spotted the chocobo almost immediately as it sat calmly in the lap of a woman dressed like a vampire. Eyes widening at the audacity, you stepped forward quickly only to be held back by the hand at your wrist. Stopping, you looked back at Ignis and tugged your hand from his grip. "What?"
"We must approach this carefully," he said, plainly enough, though it might as well have been a whisper against the music. "I haven't seen anything to signify that this is a legitimate gambling operation."
You blinked, waiting for further explanation as to why he was trying to keep you from just getting the chocobo back. It wasn't like you wanted to gamble. This was supposed to be a quick rescue mission, but already you were a little buzzed, veering off plan with each minute that passed.
Instead of saying anything further, he brought his glass to his lips, sipping the bourbon with little reaction to its sharp taste. He licked his lips, a quick, thoughtless movement that had you looking away. It was hot in here.
Looking at the chocobo again, and the woman who held it captive, you noticed the man she was sitting next to. He had an arm around her, wearing an ill-fitting suit, a toothpick flipping from one side of his mouth to the other like a bad movie villain. You could see the handle of a handgun sticking out of his trousers. How subtle. Maybe that's what his costume was meant to be. Or was he actually dangerous?
"You joining the table?" You realized too late that the dangerous-looking man was staring right at you, waiting for an answer.
"Yes," you answered automatically, taking one of the empty seats. You looked up at Ignis, waiting to see what he'd decide to do. He clearly didn't approve of any of this —what the hell he did approve of, you certainly wanted to know.
It was a moment before he took a seat next to you, setting his glass on the table and looking at you reluctantly. The rules were laid out for you, short and concise, and Ignis placed a bet —one covering you both, as this thing seemed to be a "couples only" occasion as the bouncer had insisted.
He didn't say anything as the dealer on the other side of the table dealt out cards, the quick fwip of each one causing a little ball of excitement to rise in your stomach. You'd never gambled and had no idea what game you'd just entered. All that mattered was that you kept an eye on the chocobo.
A few rounds went by, and it didn't seem as if you were doing well. Your excitement dwindled into mild distress. Ignis remained silent, keeping his expression blank. The chocobo thieves were consistent winners, the woman giggling whenever the man showed her his hand. The chocobo kwehed each time, and you found yourself checking on it often.
"You interested in my girl's bird?" The man asked between hands. He chewed on the toothpick, staring at you with narrowed eyes and a hard frown.
You huffed out a breath, slapping your hand down on the table. "It's not—"
Ignis placed a hand over yours, surprising you into pausing. "Yes," he said. "Are you willing to bet it?"
Eyes snapping to him, you tried to figure out what his plan was. You'd been doing terrible so far, there was no chance you could win the chocobo. Even if you could, why would you need to? It was your chocobo! Technically! You should snatch it right out of her lap right now and stop wasting time. What was the guy going to do, shoot you? You very much doubted the gun was real.
"Alright," said the man, smirking at the woman, then at both of you. "What are you willing to match for it?"
Ignis took a moment to think, reaching into a pocket of his jacket with his free hand and pulling out a solid gold pocket watch. He pushed it toward the center where the chips were stacked neatly. You hated the way the man's face lit up at the sight, the woman next to him giggling. They clearly approved.
Looking at the dealer and hoping for some kind of interference, you were disappointed at them just nodding their head, letting go of the outside betting.
Ignis leaned toward you, quietly saying, "Trust me."
Trust him? Trust him? You jerked your hand out from under his, pursing your lips. You could hardly trust yourself in this state, let alone someone you just met. Someone with a supposed Dark Secret. "Why should I?" you whispered, raising your hand to your mouth to keep the conversation private. As if it mattered.
Rather than answer you, he let the dealer know he was ready, beginning the next hand. You kicked him under the table, and he grunted inelegantly, giving you a sharp side glance. There was about one drink left in his glass of bourbon from what you could tell. You eyed it, wondering if he was going to finish it. You were suddenly wont to drink until you were comfortably numb. Comfortable wasn't a word you'd use for your time spent with Ignis so far.
While the hand quickly played out, you kicked at Ignis again. What was he doing? You guys should take the chocobo and run. He caught your foot between his own, his expression still blank even as you tugged against his grip. You rocked in your chair as you tried to get free, giving up when the woman with your chocobo gave you a funny look. Grabbing Ignis' cup, you drank the rest of his bourbon, enjoying the burn and the annoyed little wrinkle that formed at his brow.
You hadn't been paying attention to the game so when Ignis revealed his cards to the table, it didn't occur to you that you had won until he finally set your foot free. The woman was practically sobbing while handing the chocobo over to you. Her partner glared at you and Ignis, who was up and pulling you with him by your elbow as he slipped his golden watch back into his pocket.
The chocobo kwehed softly, resting its beak in the warmth of your chest. It seemed tired, and you couldn't help but feel the same. You let Ignis lead you back through the club, past the bar. The music resounded all over, so much louder than before.
Right out the door, cold hitting you like a wall, Ignis let go of your elbow and turned to you. The cute little wrinkle at his brow was still there. You felt the goofy smile growing on your face, too faded to be embarrassed or upset or any of the other various things you'd felt throughout the evening. He looked entirely unimpressed by you, but it only made you smile more.
"I guess I should've trusted you after all. How did you win?" you asked as you began your walk back to Prompto's.
"Simple maths," was the only thing he said. He was very skilled at giving unsatisfying answers.
The cold bit at your skin, wind blowing through your opened jacket. You juggled the chocobo between arms, struggling to zip up your jacket with the bird inside. An attempt to keep you both warm that wasn't working out. You stumbled a little over the uneven pavement.
"Oh, for Shiva's sake," Ignis said, taking hold of your jacket hem. You stopped, getting his help in the task. He zipped up your jacket carefully, only making it halfway as the chocobo was a bit too round to fit completely.
You looked from the snug chocobo to Ignis. "Thanks."
"Of course," he answered, both of you setting back toward Prompto's. "Though, I can't fathom why you wish to do something so silly as share a coat with a chocobo."
"For warmth," you defended as if it made perfect sense. "But I meant thanks for winning the chocobo back."
He pressed the walk button at a crosswalk, the annoyed look on his face smoothing out. "It was the right thing to do. I was partially at fault," he said quietly, keeping his gaze forward.
You stepped along the crosswalk with long strides, making sure to step only on the white lines. "So you admit some guilt."
He didn't respond, letting silence fill the space between you until your clouded mind produced another thought so strongly, it tumbled from your mouth. "Are you gonna report that place?"
At this, he did say something after looking at you for a moment. "No."
"Huh," you said intelligently. "But they were breaking so many laws."
"To our advantage."
You shrugged, not too worried about it. The motion made the chocobo squirm, and you calmed it with a few pats to its head. "Can't believe you ran so far away."
Ignis looked at you again, peering down at the chocobo. "All the way to a nightclub no less."
You giggled, body feeling light. "Maybe it just wanted to dance." Without waiting for him to say anything to that, you realized something, looking at him quickly. "Are you worried people recognized you? I mean, in a place like that."
It seemed he'd thought about this already as his statement seemed thought out. "I'm not that recognizable. Nor do I bear any fame. Even if that were the case, I wouldn't be recognized by anyone who frequents such a place."
Chewing your lip, you considered his words. "I recognized you. Someone else might've."
The corners of his mouth drew down, and you watched him pull out his phone, suddenly intent on something that you couldn't see. You remembered Prompto's message to you, the one you'd ignored, and lamented the position of the chocobo, keeping you from reaching into your pocket for the device. You'd see Prompto soon, anyway. He was probably going to laugh at you for this.
Ignis didn't put away his phone until you were a block closer to your destination, the worried lines returning to his nice face. Only for a moment this time, though. Once he noticed you watching, he became expressionless.
"I'm surprised you recognized me, to be quite frank." The words came out of him quietly, and it took you a moment to catch up, to realize he was making an attempt at continuing the conversation.
You'd blame it on your inebriety, but his willingness to talk delighted you. You smiled at nothing as you shrugged again. "I'll be frank, too. You look much better in person. The Insomnian Enquirer is merciless."
"Indeed," he agreed, holding his hands in gentle fists at his sides as the wind blew past you.
"No pockets in those trousers?" you asked, realizing it sounded a bit weird after you'd said it. "For your hands, I mean."
"I'm afraid not," he said, not sounding too bothered by the fact despite how he shivered slightly.
As you both turned a corner, Prompto's building came into view. You stumbled a little more, the alcohol warming you from the inside but making your thoughts impossible to discern. You kept looking at him, trying to guess what he was thinking rather than deal with your own mess of a brain. He had been so expressive earlier, but now he was a closed book.
He didn't speak again until you were trudging up the stairs inside Prompto's building. It was out of the cold, but the air was stagnant and chilly all the same. So when your fingers hesitantly grazed the freezing cold railing in your ascent, it sent a chill over you, making you stumble yet again.
"Mind your step," Ignis said from behind you. Gripping your shoulders, he steadied you. His hands were cold. It wasn't something you could feel but you could sense it in how rigid his fingers were around your shoulders. Reaching up your free hand, you grabbed one of his —just to confirm your suspicion— and weren't surprised to feel the cold touch of skin and leather.
Turning around, you looked at him, eye line made even by your position on the stairs. His free hand fell from your shoulder, but he made no move to pull the other hand away. Curiosity was on his face. You saw it in the slight arch of his brow. He looked so nice up close, you thought for the nth time that evening.
You tugged at his glove slightly, asking, "May I?"
Immediately, he shook his head. "No." He said this, yet his hand remained in your grasp and those curious little edges of his expression only grew.
Heeding his rejection, you didn't try taking off the glove. But you did gently squeeze his hand before placing it on the chocobo, whose feathers ruffled in response. "Warm, right? Not such a silly idea now."
He actually chuckled at this. "It remains silly, but I can see the merit."
Delighted all over again, you grinned. The chocobo kwehed softly, and you were hesitant to continue the trek up the last flight of stairs to Prompto's apartment. A window of opportunity was closing. "Can I ask you a question?
Ignis looked up from the chocobo, meeting your eyes. "Sure."
"What's your dark secret?"
He frowned slightly. "You believe that article?"
It had been purposefully vague, and you had stopped reading it once you realized it wasn't actually going to reveal the alleged secret. You weren't prone to believing that kind of thing, anyway, but you were just a little crossfaded and felt that Ignis would only talk about it —if at all— while no one else was around. "No. That's why I'm asking you directly."
He drew his hand away from the chocobo, away from you, and used it to adjust his glasses. "What do you think it may be?"
You latched onto his words, your hesitation at the question melting away in light of his willingness to talk. "Based on tonight? I'd say… a gambling addiction."
He adjusted a glove before crossing his arms, the hint of a smirk on his mouth. "I'd advise against such slander."
"Either that or you're an alien," you said, your smile growing.
"I've no doubt the article implied as much," he said. His gaze was unwavering. "Why so curious, may I ask?"
Shrugging, you answered, "I'm always curious." It had a lot less to do with him and whatever secret he might have and a lot more to do with your own inability to keep your nose out of other people's business.
Dropping his arms to his sides, he stepped around you. Over his shoulder, he called back, "We should return before the others begin their own search."
—
Prompto looked between you and Ignis when he opened the door. "Where were you guys?"
"Took the bird for a walk," you said, going in first, unzipping and letting the chocobo jump down and skitter towards Prompto. He looked skeptical to say the least as he bent to pick it up. You felt kind of bad, guilt, as always, bubbling up in you at the look on his face. There hadn't been time to explain before you took off, and it'd taken longer to find the bird than you could've guessed.
Ignis entered after you, shutting the door behind him as he spoke. "We walked the chocobo down the block and had a drink because the ones you're serving are nightmarish."
You were ready to correct him and explain what actually happened, but stopped yourself. He had bought you a drink so he wasn't exactly lying.
"Didn't wanna invite us?" Gladiolus asked from the couch. He was hanging a large arm over the back of it, dark eyes tracing a line between you and Ignis, similar to Prompto.
"No need to be jealous," Ignis said, a smooth response, another one you hadn't expected from him. "We merely had a drink."
Kicking off your shoes, you glanced between the men, wondering if they were boyfriends and how you could've missed such a thing.
Noctis spoke up, standing from his place on the floor in front of the tv. "Wouldn't be Gladio's first time as a third wheel."
Gladiolus laughed, agreeing with the prince. Okay, so they weren't dating, you guessed? Still seemed like a weird line of conversation, but things were always like that between close friends. You just weren't in the loop.
Wondering if it would be a big deal to just go back to the video games without much more discussion of what you and Ignis had been up to, you looked at Prompto for guidance on where this gathering was headed. Your mind was too hazy to deal with any of it. "Is it time for cake?"
His face lit up, blue eyes widening, and you loved the sight. "Yes!"
—
By the time everyone cleared out, sometime past midnight, you were almost disappointed to see them go. The chocobo had made its rounds between everyone throughout the night, and it was held closely in your arms as they made their way out of Prompto's apartment. You were not taking any chances on a repeat of your earlier adventure. Once you were alone with Prompto, you let the chick down to roam a little bit, knowing what was coming next.
He pinned you with stare, sitting down next to you on the couch. "So, I gotta know what happened."
You knew what he was talking about but weren't sure what to say. Ignis had withheld information about it earlier, which you weren't sure the purpose of, and you didn't know if he'd mind you telling Prompto about it —the chasing, the gambling, the conversation in the stairwell. You'd sobered from earlier, drinking only water rather than Prompto's swill all evening. With a clearer head, you felt inclined to keep details sparse.
"We went a few blocks east to some club," you said, drawing your knees up, a shrug rolling over your shoulders. "We each had a drink and came back."
Prompto didn't look convinced. Not because you were so obviously hiding something, but because he so clearly wanted there to be some juicy information to be had. Even if you told him everything, he would've been disappointed. "You were gone for a long time. We didn't even see you leave."
"Uh," you hadn't thought about that. You'd been in such a rush down the fire escape that it hadn't crossed your mind. The chocobo marched across the room in front of you, finding interest in anything and everything it passed, pecking here and there. "The bird took us for quite a walk, if you wanna know the whole truth."
He snorted, bending down to pet the chocobo. "I bet." When he looked at you again, it was your turn to fix him with your gaze.
"So, more importantly…" you began, stretching out your legs and kicking at him lightly. "Your best friend is the Prince of Lucis?"
Prompto grinned, picking up the chocobo to pet it more easily. "Yeah, I was waiting for that."
"I can't believe you kept that a secret from me for months." You hadn't thought he could keep a secret at all. The rest of that night was spent listening to him explain how he befriended Noctis and, by extension, the other two. He tried to glaze over his stint with joining the Crownsguard, admitting he'd decided not to in the end. You were glad he hadn't, though you didn't say so. You wouldn't have met him if he'd joined.
Noctis may have been his best friend, but Prompto was yours.