Some of y'all straight up skipped chapter six and idk how or why, but lmao okay.


It was game night. You were two hours and an entire pizza in when Prompto got a call. Because the chosen game had been a racing type, you had to pause it while he answered.

"Hey, Iggy," he said, dropping his controller. "What's up?"

You perked up at the mention of Ignis. You'd spoken to him a few times over the past couple of weeks, but hadn't seen him since he'd dropped you off outside of your apartment at the tail end of spring break. Things had leveled out between you. For the most part. "Put him on speaker."

Prompto shook his head, pushing a hand into your face and snickering. "Oh, okay—" He paused and you smacked his hand away. "Wait, really? I-I dunno if I can."

Watching the way his face changed expressions from calm to excited to worried was entertaining. You were exceedingly curious about what was going on.

Putting your hands on either side of your mouth to amplify, you chanted, "Speaker phone, speaker phone, speaker—mmhhhphh."

Prompto shoved a pillow in your face. "Okay, Iggy. I'll try, but that's a lot of pressure."

Knocking the pillow away, you grinned and made kissing noises. "Is he finally asking you out?" You were maybe just a little high.

Listening to something Ignis said, Prompto looked at you. "Yeah, she's here."

You held out a hand. "Can I talk to him?"

He handed it to you and stood up. "I'm making popcorn. Then, I'm gonna kick your ass at this game."

"Hey, Ignis," you said, sounding loud, even to yourself. You cleared your throat and lowered your voice. "I have an important question."

He already sounded exasperated. "I have a feeling I know what it may be."

You drew your knees up on Prompto's sofa. It was nicer than yours. Probably because it was actually his roommate's. "Who should I take to the homecoming dance?"

A sigh came through the line. But Ignis sounded like he was smiling when he spoke. "Who are the options? Surely, Jack and Andreas."

"Andreas, yes," you said, thinking back to a previous conversation you'd had with Ignis several days prior. "But remember, you advised me to go to the concert with Scorpion? That meant I had to stand up Jack so he's not available anymore."

"Ah, yes. Scorpion. How could I have forgotten?"

You covered your mouth to hide your snickers as he continued.

"So, you can't decide between Andreas and Scorpion." He hummed for a moment. "I say Andreas. He's a gentleman."

"Yeah, okay, but." You held up a finger even though he couldn't see it. "Scorpion is a bad boy with a heart of gold. Plus, he's the only one with a secret ending."

Prompto walked back into the room, and you angled away from him when he took his seat next to you. This was an ultra private conversation. You didn't want Prompto to find out you had a secret weapon.

On the phone, Ignis said, "I think the answer is quite obvious."

You nodded. Again, Ignis couldn't see it, but Prompto did. "Scorpion it is. I'll let you know what happens during the secret—"

Prompto leaned toward you, grabbing his phone. He was grinning, disbelief on his face. "Is Ignis helping you with Triple Heart Saga: True Love Wins?"

"No," you lied.

To Ignis, Prompto said, "Dude, that's so unfair. I've tried to get the secret ending like seven times already."

Ignis said something that you couldn't hear. Whatever it was, Prompto laughed and hung up before pointing at you. "You're such a cheater. How did you even get Iggy to help you?"

You shrugged. It hadn't been something you'd planned. He had called to set up a time to meet and plan out the big breakup of the courtship, and you'd been too absorbed into the dating sim to pay attention. So you'd asked him for help, and he was such a good strategist that he figured out pretty quickly the right decisions to make for the best outcome based on the predetermined personalities of each love interest. It was becoming your quickest and most successful playthrough of the game yet.

Why he was wasting time doing something so stupid with you was a question you'd wondered more than once, but you never looked a gift chocobo in the beak.

Making a blog was easy, especially with Prompto's help. Deciding which of your works was worth displaying was the hard part. You didn't think any of it was worth looking at, but you didn't want an empty website.

Prompto did all of the work while you groaned about it the entire time. If he hadn't pressed, you wouldn't ever get it done, though

In the end, you put anything finished on there, hoping that the few people that would end up visiting at least enjoyed what they saw or read. It was nerve wracking, but you still stuck by the belief that not many people would see it anyway. Nobody had blogs anymore. Except Prompto.

And now you.

To say that you were anxious about the self defense training was an understatement. The Citadel loomed over you ominously as you climbed the seemingly endless stairs upward toward the main entrance. Noctis had come in clutch, having Gladio let you know that you were expected in the training room of the Citadel every afternoon that week to train for four hours each day.

So there you were, going into the building that stressed you out most. It was Monday, you were done with classes, and you really hoped you were wearing appropriate clothing. Going from one person to the next, being led down long halls and further into different rooms, you felt underdressed, passing by guards with elaborate and sometimes beautiful uniforms in royal black.

The training room was oddly ornate with mounted weapons, display cases and full suits of armor lining the walls. Gladio and someone you'd never met —but immediately recognized only because of all the pictures you'd seen of her— were the only people in the room, deep into a conversation. The usher left the room and closed the doors behind you. You came to the attention of Gladio and his sister at the sound.

"Don't look so nervous, juicy," he chuckled, stretching out his shoulder. He tilted his head toward his sister "This is Iris. She's gonna be your trainer."

You were barely bigger than Iris, but wasn't she just sixteen? She was adorable, explaining the process with a smile. Gladio stood next to her, arms crossed, nodding his head along with everything she said. He was doing this as a favor for you and for Noctis. Was Iris among that list, too? You couldn't think of why else someone so young and presumably inexperienced would be training you.

Your initial doubts were obliterated along with any sense of pride you might've felt when she swept a kick under your legs, knocking you right onto your ass as soon as training began. She giggled and helped you up, which would've been cute if you weren't already thinking of all the places you were going to be hurting by the end of the first session.

When training ended, you gave Gladio the birthday present you'd hidden in your bag. You knew it was his birthday because Prompto had only mentioned it a dozen times. Unlike Ignis, Gladio welcomed gifts and attention. You were grateful he was doing something as stupid as helping train you on his birthday so you made sure it was an especially good gift.

"I haven't read this one yet," he said, eyeing the book appreciatively as he flipped through the first few pages. On the title page, you'd gotten the author to sign it. That had been a two hour wait in a bookstore full of horny bookworms. "To Gladio, may your fantasies be—" he cut himself off, closing the book and giving you a grin.

You knew why he'd had to stop himself. The author had written something really explicit, as you'd asked. He couldn't read that in front of Iris. She looked between you with a smile, either unaware or uncaring.

A man came in right before you made your way out, clapping Gladio on the shoulder and saying something to Iris. You recognized him but couldn't quite place who he was other than someone important. Stars filled your eyes as you slung your bag over your shoulder. While he spoke to Iris, you walked over to Gladio to say goodbye.

"Juicy, who's the silver fox?" you whispered, looking over at the older man.

Gladio looked down at you, unamused. "My dad."

You froze, tearing your gaze away to look up at him. "Seriously? That's your dad?"

He nodded, crossing his arms. "Yeah, so don't be weird."

"Me, weird?" You balked, then shot the older man another look. He was looking your way, Iris saying something while motioning toward you. Shit. With a blush and a giggle, you punched Gladio lightly on the arm and backed away toward the door. "Maybe I should be calling him juicy because damn."

Gladio motioned for you to get out already, rolling his eyes. You couldn't believe you'd found something that actually bothered him.

Spring hit hard, kicking you in the face like Iris had before you learned to properly evade. With a runny nose, you took allergy medicine as you boarded the train from the university to the Citadel.

Prompto kept you updated on everything you were missing at work while you did the training. The usual customer bullshit, the claw machine broke, and he had to fix it again, and most importantly, Tuesday had been so slow that Prompto had time to get the new highest score on Cruisin' Lucis. Beating that score was the first thing you'd do when you returned to work the next week. That game was absurd. The winning cutscene at the end was a dip in a hot tub with a bunch of pixelated babes and King Regis himself.

You wondered if they would update it with Noct in the hot tub when he became king.

You: I forgot the compact so make sure your uncle doesn't stop by while I'm training or something.

Ignis didn't respond, which wasn't that out of the ordinary. He was a busy man, and you were used to some time passing before hearing anything back. The reason he never sent anything became apparent when you arrived to the training room.

The usher stopped you at the closed doors before walking away. Iris stood there with an air of excitement about her. "Noctis is training right now so we can't go in yet. They're focusing on teamwork today."

"They?"

She nodded. "Noctis, Gladdy, and Ignis."

You could hear the fighting through the large doors, but seeing it would've been much more exciting.

"We can't watch?" you asked. Maybe you could sit on one of the green upholstered benches that lined the edge of the room.

"Unfortunately, we can't." She seemed to share your disappointment. "It's totally packed, I think. A lot of Crownsguard are training, too."

You leaned against the wall next to her, listening to the loud clashing coming from the other side. Imagining what kind of secret maneuvers they were doing that you weren't privy to.

Once it was over, the doors slammed open and people left in droves. You stayed still, not wanting any of the Crownsguard to take notice of you. You could barely withstand the basic self defense —though you were getting better— and didn't want anyone assuming you were a Crownsguard hopeful. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Following Iris inside, you spotted Gladio easily on the other side of the room. He yelled something you couldn't distinguish because of the echoing effect the room carried.

You waved at him, then at Noctis and Ignis when they noticed you were there, too. The room smelled faintly of something you couldn't place. It had you looking around curiously, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Ignis walked toward you, nodding once he stopped just a few feet away. He wore a simple shirt, the topmost buttons undone. Sweat gleamed across his chest and arms. Gross. You swallowed thickly as he rubbed his neck with a small towel, his hair loose and swept to the side. Definitely gross.

"How is your self defense training?"

It was different talking to him in person. You were suddenly reminded of who he was and how his presence made you feel. On the phone or through text, he played along with your silly requests, helped you land fake dates in a game and sent you puns when you complained about school getting you down. The man in front of you couldn't be that same person with his serious expression and professional combat skills.

You fidgeted, shrugging to hide your discomfort. "Iris is kicking my ass, but I'm getting pretty good at running away."

He chuckled softly. "That sounds promising. I've heard tell we have an open guard position in our faint-of-heart division. You should apply."

"Ha ha." You rolled your eyes. Maybe he was the same person, after all. When he didn't say anything next, you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, eyes avoiding his sweaty, exposed collar. "What's that smell?"

He rose his brows. "Smell?" With a quick glance around, the hand he had rubbing the towel at his neck paused. "It does become rather ripe after training. No worse than the locker rooms."

"No. It's like a burning smell? But not?" You hoped that made sense. You couldn't be the only one who noticed it, though everyone else seemed unbothered.

"Oh." He nodded, hand gripping the towel and dropping to his side. "You mean the magic."

You met his eyes, inhaling the smell again. It was… not good. Not terrible, but you hoped it dissipated before your lesson began. "That's magic?"

"An aftereffect, yes."

"Who exactly does the magic?"

He was unsurprised by your curiosity, but looked at the others in the room while answering as if he weren't sure he should divulge. "Gladio and I both have the capability, drawn from Noctis."

You followed his gaze to look a bit closer at the others. Both Gladio and Noctis had scorched bits and holes in their clothing. Returning your stare to Ignis, you allowed yourself one small once over. Totally clean.

"You did the magic." It was never said that you were eloquent, and now that you couldn't flirt with Ignis without upsetting him, you found yourself at an even greater disadvantage when it came to speaking with him. "You made the room smell weird."

He rolled a shrug over his shoulders, more relaxed than anyone who'd just spent an indeterminate amount of time training should be. "I hadn't known your nose was so sensitive."

As if on cue, you sneezed, catching it in your elbow before you showered him in germs. "Allergies," you explained, sniffling a little. Maybe if your nose stuffed up, you wouldn't have to smell the remnants of magic. A blessing in disguise.

His expression held slight concern that you brushed off with a wave of your hand. "Don't you have a shower to take or something?"

"Right. Good luck in your training." He walked toward the locker rooms, looking back once when you sneezed again. You turned away from him to make it pointed that you did not welcome his concern.

That session, Iris showed you the coolest thing you'd yet to learn: how to disarm someone and steal their weapon. This made you feel like you were actually learning something worthwhile. Then, when it came to actually doing it, you realized that everything connected so every bit you'd learned so far was important for this maneuver to even work.

Gladio was going extra easy on you, but when you successfully pulled it off, holding the practice sword against him threateningly, you dropped the stance and jumped up in excitement with a victory cry anyway.

"Iris, you're the best teacher." You had to give her credit; you'd had a lot of doubts up to this point.

She looked surprised, then grinned at you. "Thank you! You're the best student!"

You waved the sword around, accidentally hitting yourself in the leg with it somehow. Gladio took it away from you with a laugh, telling you training was over. Already?

After showering, you were so busy talking with Iris about when and where you could use your newly learned maneuvers in daily life —creep hitting on you at a bar, teenage bully making fun of you, landlady stealing your food— that you hadn't noticed Ignis standing at the doors. By the casual lean it seemed like he'd been there for a while. You hoped he hadn't seen you hit yourself with the sword.

He nodded at you and Iris as you approached the doors. "I'll walk her out, Iris."

Iris looked from him to you, questioning.

You shrugged.

"Okay, see you tomorrow," she said, smiling. "You did great today."

"Thanks." You rubbed at your arm and hefted the bag you had draped over a shoulder. "Bye, Iris."

Through the doors and down the hall, you gave him a side glance. "Working late tonight?"

He nodded. "Par for the course. Thought I'd offer you a ride home since I happen to be leaving around the same time your training ends."

That sounded nice. You could save some gil and an hour of your time by not taking the train. But it also seemed a strange offer. He lived in a completely different part of the city from what you heard from Gladio. So he'd be going out of his way to give you a ride.

You glanced at him curiously. "Oh yeah? Are you sure you aren't worried I'll run into your uncle without the courtship token on me?"

Looking caught, he frowned and said, "Is it not a reasonable worry?"

You huffed a breathy laugh. It hurt a little, the sore muscles of your rarely used abs pulling with the motion. "I'm not gonna offer him a big, fat blunt or something. Unless he asked." You feigned a thoughtful look, putting a finger to your chin. "I'm sure I could come up with something."

He looked at you in mild distress. "You're not foolish enough to be carrying."

"No way, dude." You scoffed at him. "I get patted down every time I come here. I don't wanna be detained on my way to the training room."

He gave you an unamused look, but you could only smile in return.

"I'm okay taking the train," you said, flicking the strap of your bag with your thumb. "It's not a bad trip, plus there won't be many people on board this time of night. Thanks, though."

He nodded again and walked with you quietly for a time, opening doors before you could and nodding at people you passed. At the main level near the entrance, he let you know that's where you had to part. The car lot was through a guarded doorway.

"This Sunday," you said. "I don't have work, and I'm catching up on all my schoolwork on Saturday. So be there Sunday, okay? No excuses."

A corner of his mouth pulled into a smirk. "Of course."

You smiled back. "Sometimes I think you're not taking this courtship thing as seriously as I am."

Taking a step back to part ways, you were stopped by his hand on your upper arm. "Wait. I've something for you."

He drew his hand away to grab something from a pocket. A small box. Allergy medicine. The same kind you already had in your bag.

"Um, thanks." You took it slowly, looking from the colorful packaging to his face.

"I'm assuming your condition is seasonal," he said. "In the case that you're somehow allergic to magic, I'm afraid you're out of luck."

You wanted to tell him it wasn't necessary to do this. You weren't Noctis and you weren't his real girlfriend so this level of care was a waste of his time.

Some other third voice interrupted you first. "Hello, Ignis, miss."

Both of you looked off to the side, where Ignis' uncle stood, a pleasantly surprised look on his face. Fantastic. All three of you in the same room together, and you didn't have the compact on you. That had been your only job.

"Hello, sir," you said, bowing your head slightly.

Ignis had the gall to look at you strangely. As if he were surprised you knew how to show anyone respect.

"Are you going out for the evening?" his uncle asked, looking between you. Gods, it really wasn't his business even if you were going out with Ignis. What was up with these nosy nobles?

"We were just saying goodbye to one another," Ignis said before you could open your smart mouth. He looked down at you with a soft look you'd never seen before and lifted one of your hands in his; he was putting on a show, and he was good. "Have a safe trip home." He brought your hand up to kiss it, but you pulled it away quickly, uncomfortable with the gesture.

Then you remembered that you were supposed to be pretending that Ignis was your boyfriend.

"Uh, right." You smiled sheepishly at him and shot his uncle a brief, embarrassed look. You were blowing it. Hopefully your behavior would be mistaken as shyness. Swiftly, you touched Ignis' lapel, raising on the tips of your toes, and kissed him chastely on the cheek. That should make up for the faux pas, right? You weren't going to stick around to be sure, murmuring, "'Kay, bye." Then you got the hell out of there.

On the train later, your phone beeped, pulling you out of a half-asleep state.

Ignis: Impressive exit. Seems you have learned to run away rather well.

You: Shut up.

Ignis: I'll see you on Sunday.

You: I can't wait to dump you.

There was a strong sense of lacking that you felt when you thought about the fact that you'd spent spring break with four men and had no sex to speak of. Four young men and not one of them had been even remotely interested in…

I don't apologize for things for which I'm not sorry.

You ran a hand down your face, swiping left and right at people on another dating app. Eventually, someone who wanted to play with you would come along. You just had to have patience.

Only patience was not a virtue you had, really.

Closing the app, you groaned. You had your last session with Iris and Gladio later. If Iris wasn't involved, you felt like you could let out your sexual frustration then. Just exhaust yourself physically and forget about sex for a while. But trying to do that with a sixteen year old around would be creepy.

No, if it was only Gladio… you knew he'd understand.

Your eyes lit up, mind reeling with new thoughts. Bad ones, but what was new?

You'd never say you had a type, but if you did, Gladio wasn't it. Still, when he stood behind you to correct your stance before you faced off with Iris, you could feel his broad chest brush ever so slightly against your back. Suddenly hyper aware of every little touch, you let the thoughts mull around in your brain for the duration of the lesson before ever voicing the decision you'd already made before even stepping foot into the training room.

While Iris cleaned up and you caught your breath at the end of the lesson, you drank water and stood purposefully next to the large man.

"So what are you doing tonight, juicy?"

He shrugged. "Gonna stick around and practice a few things I've been working on since training you isn't much of a workout. Why?"

There weren't certain phrases, as far as you knew, that worked on certain people when it came to sexual advances. In your experience, it was a matter of figuring out what a person wanted. That had been your problem with Surfer Boy. He'd been so bland, you had no idea what he'd wanted.

Looking at Gladio in your peripheral, licking water from your lip before it could drip down your chin, you already knew him well enough. He liked to play, too, and if it was exercise he wanted, you could be that outlet.

"I could help you," you suggested. "I'm free tonight, and I need a… workout."

You felt him gaze down at you, but you kept yours on the bottle of water in your hand. You'd never done this. Flirting with Ignis, joking or not, had come so naturally, but this, what you were doing now, felt completely out of place.

"I don't know if I wanna hang out after that joke you made about my dad being hot." Despite his words, he sounded amused.

You took that as a good sign. Raking your gaze over him, you finally met his eyes. "It's just interesting to see where you got it from."

He huffed a quiet laugh through his nose and looked at you for several beats. "Alright. I'll bite. Hit the showers, and I'll meet you outside in twenty."

You nodded, surprised at his acceptance. It hit you on your way to the locker rooms that you hadn't actually thought you'd get that far. Your self esteem was taking a real beating lately.

He took you to a ramen bar. You both sipped smoked whiskey and slurped ramen with absolutely no manners, the conversation coming easily. Gladio had a million things to say. It wasn't the same kind of talkative as Prompto who could talk himself both into and out of a hole. Gladio just seemed to know how to engage with people.

He deflected every flirty comment you made with one of his own. You made a game of it with yourself, taking a large drink of whiskey whenever he said something particularly salacious. Until you had to stop when the conversation had devolved into nothing but.

You stretched outside the bar, leaning into him a little. Pretending that you needed help walking gave you a reason to get closer. Now that he'd loosened up, you felt comfortable asking him point blank, "What's the big secret between all you guys? The one about Noctis that involves Prompto and is keeping Ignis so busy?"

Gladio groaned as if he'd been waiting for this very question all night. "I wanna tell you, I really do. But I can't, okay? So drop it before you get worked up."

You grumbled, shoving him uselessly. "Whatever. Nobody will tell me. Prompto plays dumb and Ignis is all serious about it. You guys suck."

He grunted as if he agreed, but said nothing more.

On the train back to the Citadel, he held you drunkenly, though you knew he could handle his alcohol better just on the sheer size difference between you.

"Is that why you got me drunk?" You could feel the rumble of his voice in his chest against your head. "To get me to spill the secret?"

Lifting your head to look at him, you shook it slightly. "No. I wanted to fuck you."

Nice, you thought, when he chuckled at that. Then you realized a tad late that it wasn't the reaction you'd been hoping for.

His dark eyes roamed your face. "You don't want that."

With a blink, you scowled at him. "You don't know what I want."

"Okay, I don't want that."

You sighed, resting your head on his chest again. "I feel so unsexy right now."

"Because I don't wanna sleep with you?"

"Because no one wants to sleep with me. It's like I have a curse."

He rubbed your head comfortingly, fingers brushing your hair. "Everybody has those periods. Focus on something else."

"I can't."

"Look…" He sighed. "I know you don't wanna sleep with me. You're just frustrated. I get it."

You knew he was right, but that didn't mean you had to like it. "Then why'd you say yes to hanging out?"

"I could tell you needed a friend. You were tense during the entire lesson today."

The train shuddered to a stop at the Citadel station, and you removed yourself from him to leave the car. "I was hoping you'd just take me to your place tonight. I even made an excuse to go back to the Citadel with you and everything."

"Yeah, I figured. Iris sent me a message saying you left your bag in the locker room."

So that's why he'd been checking his phone in the ramen bar. He'd seemed really amused about something. "I still need to go back. It has my apartment keys in it." And the compact. You hadn't thought everything though very well in your hurry to get laid.

In your hurry to fail at getting laid, to be precise. Because, apparently, this was your life now.

"C'mon," he said good-naturedly as he tugged your arm once he realized you were walking the wrong way. "You can stay in a guest room. Everybody will just assume you're a friend of Iris."

Sitting next to a window, you stared down into a garden. You'd never seen it before, but you knew it was yours. In your lap rested a familiar golden pocket watch. Your fingertips traced the Scientia crest while you watched the wind blow petals past the window.

At the sound of your name, you turned away from the sight to find yourself at a dining table with Ignis, his uncle, and numerous faceless people that your mind had filled in as his family.

They were congratulating you on a happy marriage.

Looking fearfully at Ignis, you asked, "Did we get married?"

He arched a fine brow. "What are you saying? We've been married for years."

"Why?"

"Are we not 'in it together', as you said?"

That wasn't what you'd meant, and he knew that. How could he not know that?

You threw your hands out, trashing everything in front of you on the table. It didn't matter. Everything kept going back into place, everyone around you continuing the congratulatory chant.

You were at the window again, watching the gentle breezes that tickled your garden. The pocket watch in your lap let out a soft, metered tick tick tick.

Ignis' voice sounded close, against your ear, against your neck. But you were alone.

"You'll never go out there again."

You woke abruptly to a tapping against the door of the guest room. Senses coming into focus, you threw off the blanket. The dream was fresh in your mind, scouring your nerves like sandpaper. You threw the door open, expecting Gladio. "Juicy, I need to sleep with somebody as soon…"

You saw no one at first, then looked down at a kid you most definitely didn't know. You were at Gladio's, right? Instead of taking the bottle of water the boy was offering, you replayed the night before in your mind.

Yep, unless you were mysteriously displaced in your sleep, you were in the Amicitia household. So who was this? Did Gladio have a little brother? You thought if he did, he would've talked about him just as much as he did Iris. The guy was a Proud Older Brother second only to his job as Shield.

When you took the bottle from his hand, it was as if the tap of his mouth had been suddenly loosened. "Good morning, miss. I heard you weren't feeling well, and my grandfather is busy so I wanted to help by—"

You held up a hand, and he blinked, words coming to a halt. Opening the door wider, you almost waved him in, but that seemed pretty creepy since you were barely covered. So you just stood in the doorway and uncapped the bottle. The landscape of your mouth was a desert wasteland. The boy's expression was hesitant as he watched you chug the water.

"Thank you," you said, clearing your throat. Water was the best. "Where's Gladio?"

"Oh." He nodded, as if he were glad this was something he knew he could tell you. "He's with Prince Noctis right now. Are you having breakfast?"

Breakfast? You were barely awake. Then again, hangovers gave you such strong cravings. Sure. You could have breakfast with the Amicitias without Gladio. That wouldn't be weird at all.

His name was Talcott, and you liked him because he was precocious and shared an interest in cactuars with you. You followed him into a dining room, the conversation going pretty smoothly considering you'd never so much as spoken to a kid since you'd been one yourself. At a long table sat Iris. She was the only one present, and she giggled when you looked around in confusion.

"It's just me this morning," she said as she waved you over. "And I'm glad because I want to talk about something personal."

That didn't sound good.

You took a seat next to her, looking back to see where Talcott had sat, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Had you… imagined him?

Iris took in your look of confusion with amused patience. When she had your full attention, she began, "I wanted to do something nice by cleaning your clothes for you while you were out with Gladdy, and I saw something interesting in your bag."

Oh no, this wasn't good at all.

Her face was alight with excitement and you knew exactly what she was going to say. "Congratulations! Why didn't you tell me you were with Ignis? This is so exciting."

This was straight up terrible. Small flashbacks of the nonsense dream plagued your mind. Could you leave now? Would that be rude?

She kept talking excitedly, unaware of your distress. "I can't believe he found love, and I was trusted to train you!"

"N-no," you said before she could keep going. "We're not in love."

"Oh." Her smile waned into a look of confusion that matched your own. Only for a moment. Then she smiled again. "It's a new thing, I can tell. The compact is beautiful, by the way. He has good taste." She elbowed you, much like her brother in regard to not knowing how much strength she put into the action. "In tokens and ladies. I already know we'll be good friends."

"Iris." You kept your voice firm. She needed to understand. What she needed to understand, you weren't quite sure, but she definitely needed to stop talking. "It's… a secret, okay? Not even Gladio knows so don't tell anyone."

She nodded in understanding. "Got it! That sounds just like Ignis. He's always keeping his personal life separate from everyone. We all kinda thought he didn't have a personal life for a long time."

That's because he didn't. Not really. But you couldn't say that.

"When will you tell everyone? You have to announce it eventually."

"Oh, y'know," you said, waving a hand vaguely. "When we're ready."

Someone came into the room and served you each a plate of food. It was the right distraction you needed to change the conversation.

You were doing a bad job at this low key fake girlfriend thing, and you hoped none of your mistakes made their way back to Ignis before everything was over.

"It's not you, it's me."

You looked at your reflection. Crossing your arms, uncrossing your arms.

"Ignis, it's over."

It wasn't believable. You couldn't act to save your life. Smacking your cheeks lightly, you stared yourself down. Then you paused, dropping your hands to grip the edge of the sink.

"You're nothing to me."

You chewed on your lower lip.

"I never loved you."

A small sigh escaped you. It had to be more personal. Something believable.

"I was only using you to make my student film stand out."

That was a start. You straightened your shoulders and imagined all of the most classic breakup lines you could think of.

"Love…" You cleared your throat. "Lover was just a part you played in my movie. Stop pretending it was ever anything more."

Too wordy. You could work on it, though.

A loud, measured knock coming from your front door snapped you out of your thoughts. One look at the time had you groaning. Ignis arrived earlier than anticipated.

You ran from the bathroom and scrambled around your messy apartment, listening to his second knock and yelling, "Just a minute!" You grabbed an old box of takeout off the coffee table, ignoring the crumbs left behind, and tossed it into the trash on your way to the door. Of all your friends, Ignis was the last one you wanted to see how disgusting your living space could be.

Opening the door, you let him in with the smallest of smiles. This was a million times worse than when you let Noctis in because you knew Noctis was a slob just like you. Ignis was a total weirdo who probably liked everything in place. You'd spent all of the day before catching up on schoolwork, so much so that you hadn't even gotten the laundry done yet. He followed you inside, probably judging you the entire time.

With a quick explanation of where everything was, you pointed at the kitchen. "Make yourself at home. I have to go downstairs for a few minutes."

You ran to your room, gathering your filthy clothes into a bundle atop a basket that you carried into the living room. "There's coffee and cakes in the fridge. I promise we can get started as soon as I get back."

With that, you ran downstairs to Aranea's apartment, the only place you could wash your clothes for free. Usually she let you with no issue, but you hadn't given her any warning this time, and she threw her door open with bared teeth and an annoyed look.

"Aranea, please let me use your laundry room. My clothes smell so bad."

Her expression flattened into one of empathy, something you were used to, and she tucked her soft hair behind an ear. "Alright, fine. You're lucky Biggs and Wedge aren't here tonight."

You couldn't ever figure out if Biggs and Wedge were her lovers or coworkers or both, but you were glad they weren't around because your clothes were beginning to make your bedroom smell unlivable.

"Thank the gods," you said, skittering into her apartment and loading your clothes into her laundry room. It was the only one in the building. If she had been gone on one of her trips with Biggs and Wedge —her lovers slash coworkers slash who the hell knew what— you would've had an easier time washing your things because she always kept a key hidden nearby.

"Let me know when I need to put them in the dryer," you told her as you made your way downstairs.

She grunted, waving you off as if she didn't have time for your nonsense. But you knew her well enough to recognize that she was agreeing to keep an eye on it for you.

Stepping back into your apartment, you inhaled deeply and let out a slow breath. This was going to be your biggest challenge yet: coming up with a good break up plan with Ignis. It had to be equally dramatic and believable. You were no actress, and you hoped your practice runs in the mirror would pay off.

You found Ignis sitting on your couch with a can of Ebony in hand —you'd stocked the fridge, but not specifically for him or anything— and a container of desserts. You carefully eyed the bowl of brownies he'd taken from the fridge and placed on the coffee table. What a silly man Ignis was, grabbing them rather than the coffee cakes you'd made.

Attempting to save him the trouble, you grabbed the brownie he held in his hand before he could eat it. "You don't wanna eat this. Trust me," you said, tossing it back into the bowl. "They're pot brownies I'm holding for Craigory. He lives in a dorm, and the RAs are doing inspections this week."

Ignis' careful brows arched perfectly over his green eyes. "Please tell me you're joking."

Picking up the bowl, you shook your head and walked to the kitchen, calling over your shoulder, "Nope. It's April and the twentieth is coming up." Trading them out for the coffee cakes, you joined him in the living room where he held a hand over his face, glasses held in the other. "Prompto and I tried some this time last year. It's actually how we became— what's wrong?"

He straightened himself, putting his glasses back into place and looking at you carefully. "I already ate one." He said it with such seriousness that you stared back at him for a long moment before a small laugh tumbled out of you.

"Seriously?" You pointed at the coffee cakes. "I said cakes, dude. Not brownies. Why did you—" Bringing a hand to your mouth to stifle a giggle, you took the brunt of a glare from him. "I was gone for five minutes, tops. You're totally out of control."

He crossed his arms and sighed. "I should've known something like this would happen. We should've met at my flat instead."

"That's not fair," you said, feeling defensive because it wasn't at all your fault that he'd done something so dumb. "We have thirty minutes to an hour to plan before you feel anything. So let's get to it." You clapped your hands together.

Ignis tugged at the collar of his shirt as he proposed staging the breakup at dinner with his uncle in the Citadel. You didn't like the idea of being the bad guy breaking his heart in front of his uncle, but he reminded you that it was all fake.

"You won't actually be breaking my heart," he said, finger hooking his collar again and pulling slightly.

Leaning toward him, you reached up and unbuttoned the topmost button of his shirt. He let out at light sigh in relief, nodding in thanks. But you didn't remove your hands from his lapel, rubbing the fabric of it between your fingers. Everything Ignis owned felt universally softer than anything else on Eos.

"It's the principle of the thing," you said, making yourself let go. Sitting back, you drew your legs up. "It's going to be awkward no matter what. I can live with that. I just don't want your uncle to think I'm a huge bitch. I still wanna be friends with you after this."

"Of course we'll remain friends." It was offhand as if you were silly to even consider the possibility of that not being the outcome. He lifted his can of Ebony, finding it empty, then looked at you with slight dismay. "I'm sorry, but does it feel sweltering in here to you? I feel as though the walls are closing in around us."

You smiled, knowing by the slightly dazed look in his eyes that he was beginning to feel the effects of the brownie. "Take off your jacket. I can't believe you overdressed even for this."

He slid the suit jacket off, draping it over the arm of the couch. Then he began to unbutton the cuffs of his shirt. "This is hardly overdressed."

You watched him roll up his sleeves to the elbow. "I have a few of Prompto's shirts laying around if you want to borrow one."

Flexing his gloved hands a little, he looked up at you. "None of his shirts have sleeves."

Exactly. You tore your gaze from his arms and went to the balcony doors, sliding one open. The evening air was cool, and the sweet smell of your marmalade plant wafted in. "Is that better?" You looked at him, catching him undoing another button of his shirt. Was he going to undress right in front of you? Not that you'd complain, but…

"Marginally," he said, finally stopping the adjustments.

With a roll of your eyes, you went to the kitchen for more Ebony. When you came back, Ignis was up, looking at your shelves of movies. Like you had with Noct, you had a little trepidation at the idea of letting him poke around.

"What kind of movies do you like?" you asked, handing him a coffee.

He took a drink before answering, examining the shelves as if looking for something specific. "Older films. I enjoy the classics."

"Like Casablanca," you guessed, and he nodded. You didn't have Casablanca, but somewhere in your room, you had a porn parody of it called Assablanca. You almost told him this, but he chose that moment to remove a movie from the shelf to look at it.

"This is considered one of the worst films ever made."

You scoffed. "It's a masterpiece." Sure, it had been a flop that lost millions of gil and cost a director his career, but it was a wild ride from beginning to end. "Have you ever seen it?"

"I haven't," he said, frowning at the movie's cover. "For good reason."

Taking it from him, you went to the tv and switched it on. "We're watching it. Right now."

He returned to his seat, still frowning. "We're meant to be planning."

"We can do both," you reasoned as you set everything up. "Can I have a dramatic one-liner? When I break up with you, I mean."

He chuckled, a sound that delighted you when it went on for longer than usual. You looked over your shoulder to see that he'd tilted his head back, looking at your ceiling.

"Such as?" Another chuckle, and he was shaking his head. "Do you have any prepared?"

You didn't have anything solid yet, but you were getting somewhere with it. A few more rounds in front of the mirror, and you might actually be convincing. "How about… I can't take the terrible sex anymore."

"Input a modicum of truth, please."

"It's not you, it's your shitty taste in movies?"

"That won't work."

With the movie set up, you stood and turned to him. "I'm sorry, Ignis, but I'm in love with your uncle now?"

He lifted his head, brows furrowed. "Absolutely not."

You laughed and jumped onto the couch, sitting as far from him as possible. "I'll work on it."

Barely a minute into the movie and he turned to you, asking, "What's your favorite film?"

First of all, rude to just talk during a movie. Secondly, you wish you had a gil for every time you were asked that question. "Midnight Sunrise."

He gave you a long look. "That's a rather obscure one. And a romance, at that."

Staring across the couch back at him, you said matter of factly, "It's not a crime to like romantic movies, whether you're a romantic or not."

Ignis laughed softly. "I'm only saying I'm pleasantly surprised."

"I'm surprised you even know what I'm talking about," you countered. Midnight Sunrise wasn't just obscure, it was old and low budget so few people even knew to look for it.

"I've never seen the film myself, but I know the premise." He was talking through so much of the movie's opening, you had to pause it to keep from missing anything important. He smirked a little, and you suspected that's what he'd wanted. So you unpaused it, unwilling to let him win.

He didn't have to like it, but he was going to watch this movie with you. It was like a rite of passage.

The first ten minutes of the film were insane —an assassination, car chases, a secret agent facing off with his nemesis— but you spent most of the time giving Ignis side glances to check his reactions. He caught you doing it and asked, "May I help you?"

It was a little weird seeing such a big smile on his face, but you wouldn't complain. "Nope. Just enjoying this amazing movie."

He chuckled in response, returning his attention to the tv. When you came to a scene of a family eating breakfast together, Ignis sighed. And it was pretty dramatic, coming from him.

"What's wrong?" You hoped he wasn't that bored.

No hesitation. "Gladio is angry with me."

Oh. That was some juicy info. You paused the movie and faced Ignis. "Why? What happened?" You didn't want to sound too eager, but you lived for that hot gossip. It was disappointingly rare between these guys.

Ignis looked at you, a frown cutting his face. "I had to cancel our plans for his birthday. He hasn't spoken to me outside of our duties in almost a week."

"Why cancel?"

"It had to be done. Now he only relays things passive aggressively through Dulcis while simultaneously flirting with her."

You scooted into the middle of the couch, closer to him so you could poke him with a finger. "You need to talk to him."

He sighed, enveloping your jabbing hand in one of his. "I refuse to play into his immature game of snubbing me. He'll talk to me when he gets over it."

Wow, these boys were both petty.

"That's super not how it works," you said, trying to poke him more, but his grip held firm. "What were your plans for his birthday?"

"I always took him out for breakfast. He tells me new goals he may have and shares complaints or worries. Usually about Noctis."

That was a simple tradition. And kind of sweet. "You need to fix this, Ignis. He's one of your best friends." You pulled your hand from his grip. "Send him a message asking if he wants to have breakfast soon to make up for the one you cancelled. I'll help you word it."

He pursed his lips, looking at you. His hand was still up, blocking you from poking him again. As if that could stop you. Then, to your surprise, he dug into a pocket of his suit jacket for his phone.

Oh, gods, he was actually taking your advice! Together, you wrote out a not too eager, properly apologetic, and entirely friendly message inviting Gladio to breakfast the coming Friday. That was apparently the only morning Ignis had off anytime soon because he was expected to stay out late to entertain a few guests from abroad on Thursday evening. He was vague about it, not that you cared because all you wanted to do was reunite your two arguing friends.

Gladio responded to it within ten minutes, and it was an agreement to meet. You threw a fist up in victory. "Now, reply with It's a date so he knows you got the message."

"That's far too flirty," Ignis said, typing and sending a short affirmation instead.

Dropping your hand, you went to poke him again, and again he blocked you by taking your hand in one of his. "It's not flirty. It's casual."

He put his phone away, the golden chain of his pocket watch slipping from a different pocket of his suit jacket. "Oh, it's flirty, but I'm beginning to realize that you don't know the difference between what is and isn't a come on."

Your eyes widened. "I've literally said it's a date to lots of people. To you, even!" That didn't help your argument. It couldn't be helped that you were just a naturally flirty person.

He nodded, slow and deliberate. "Precisely my point. I fear half the things that come out of your mouth."

High Ignis may have been a less stubborn man than sober Ignis, but you were learning that he was also too honest. More than that, he was being unfair. You hadn't so much as winked at him ever since you'd promised not to flirt with him anymore. If the slightest thing you said or did could be taken as a sexual advance, you weren't sure you could interact with him at all.

"This is what I get for helping you," you griped, unpausing the movie to ignore him.

In the middle of a prison fight scene, Ignis tugged his pocket watch from its hiding place and popped it open. "How long is this film? More importantly, how long will this overbearingly hazy feeling last?"

Edibles left you feeling far more mellow than hazy, but everyone reacted differently. With a shrug, you said, "I don't know how long it lasts. A few hours?"

A frown grew on his face. "That isn't helpful." He snapped the pocket watch shut, and you leaned over, stopping him from putting it away.

"Can I look at your obnoxious timepiece?" Your hand covered the watch, and he let you lift it from his palm.

"Obnoxious?"

You pulled your hand from his to hold the watch with both hands, turning it around and examining it. "Solid gold with your family crest; it's pretty ostentatious. Was it a courting gift for yourself or something?"

Opening it, you could see bits of the intricate workings of the inner mechanisms behind the face of the clock. It was more beautiful than the compact, you thought, because it was more worn. The crest wasn't as perfectly etched on the front, and the rounded edges had the slightest scuffs.

The soft ticking sounds it gave were much less ominous in real life than it had in your dream.

"It was my father's," Ignis said. When you looked up at him, his eyes were focused on the pocket watch. "A courting gift from my mother."

You closed the clasp, running a finger over the ridges of the crest. "So your mom was the Scientia?"

He chuckled, and you loved the sound. He was opening up further than you'd ever gotten to see. "No. She was impatient. My father held off his intent to court in favor of his work. My mother had this commissioned and presented it to him."

A slow smile came to you. "I bet that took gumption." Something like that was so presumptuous; you couldn't imagine having the gall to do it. Then again, you weren't the biggest advocate of commitment in general. Maybe you would've done something so dramatic for really good food.

"He was quite taken with her assertive attitude," Ignis said. He lifted a hand, and you reluctantly placed the watch on his palm. "Or so I've heard."

You watched him put it away, noting the softer look in his eyes when he faced you again. He had opened up in a whole new way, and you hoped he didn't regret it when his mind became clear again.

The movie kept playing in the background, onto a prison escape scene you'd seen countless times. There was no point in pausing it; getting Ignis to enjoy this movie was a lost cause.

"Don't you think," you began, drawing up your legs. You thought of Mirum, the marchioness that liked him and thought you were some kind of rival. "You're a lot like your dad? What if there's someone who might do exactly what your mom did?"

He looked at you with usually sharp eyes glazed over. "Even so. Things of that nature are the least of my worries at a time like this."

Now, that had your attention. High Ignis was loose lipped. Already, you'd heard about his small fight with Gladio, and he'd told you the barest information about his parents. Maybe he would tell you the big secret thing that seemed to involve all of your friends but you.

In an attempt to appear nonchalant, you tugged at the bottom of your shirt. "What do you mean 'a time like this'?"

He chuckled and grabbed your fidgeting hand. You didn't understand why he kept doing that; it was unlike him to be so touchy. "That's still a secret I can't share."

You pulled your hand from his grip to remove his glove. He didn't fight you, watching as you took it off and tossed it away. Astrals, you'd wanted to do that since you'd met him. His hand was bigger than yours, long fingers curling over your own. You wondered how hard the edible was hitting him to have his boundaries be broken down like this.

Instead of bringing it up, you dropped your intertwined hands between you and looked up at him. "Why? I feel like you're not telling me just out of spite at this point."

"Were that I could, I wouldn't hesitate." He used his free hand to adjust his glasses. "It's good news, in any case. You'll find out soon enough."

You pouted, turning your attention back to the movie. A pretty gross scene of someone having their face cut off was coming up soon, and you did not want to miss that.

You came back from a visit to the bathroom to find Ignis eating a coffee cake. From the looks of things, it seemed as if he'd already eaten several. How he could possibly have done that in the short time you were gone was a total mystery.

"These are incredible. Did you make these? I'm almost certain you did," he said, pulling it apart and shoving each small piece into his mouth one at a time. He chewed quickly and drained the rest of his Ebony. "I need more coffee. I'm afraid I'll fall asleep, but I can't sleep here." He stood up with difficulty, his footing slightly off. "There are implications to staying at a lady's house overnight. Nevermind that no one knows I'm here but you."

He continued to ramble on with no filter, walking past you toward the kitchen. You followed him, wondering if it would be a bad idea to record him like this. For posterity. He sipped from a new can of Ebony and looked at the picture of your chocobo for long enough that you were kind of weirded out.

"Ignis?"

He turned to look at you as if surprised to see you there. With a tilt of his head toward the photo, he asked, "Is that the fine Bokeh you spoke of on New Year's Eve?"

You nodded. What a strange person, you thought. He couldn't remember your name that time in the Royal Mail department, but he remembered the name of your chocobo that you'd only vaguely mentioned to him once?

"Sometimes," you said, hoping to make him laugh again. You wanted to hear it so badly. "She cocks her head when you ask her if she wants a mohawk. It's really cute. She's like kweh? " You tilted your head as an example.

Rather than laughing as you'd hoped, Ignis adopted a serious face. "Why would you ask a chocobo if she wanted a mohawk?"

"I dunno." You shrugged. "For fun? I was a kid."

He smiled, then. "I'd bet you still ask her that question as an adult, don't you?"

You nodded reluctantly, returning the smile once he chuckled at your admittance. "You're so talkative when you're high. You should do it more often."

"You think so?" He took another, larger drink of coffee, but his eyes remained heavy. "I feel dreadful. I may not look it, but I'm very cross with you."

From the other room, a gunfight could be heard from the television. You ambled toward it, knowing you were missing a good scene. "Come watch this, Iggy, it's amazing."

He didn't leave the kitchen until you promised him that no one else got their face cut off. When he did join you, he sat in the middle of the couch and laid down, his head resting in your lap. You relaxed into it, meeting his half lidded eyes with your own.

"Is this alright?" His words came out slower than usual, nearly mumbles. "I assume so, but feel free to tell me if I'm the one overstepping."

Of course you were alright with it. Prompto pulled this kind of crap all the time. So instead of responding, you shushed him. "This is the best part."

You'd lied. Another person was about to have their face horribly removed. He groaned when it happened, and you laughed unnecessarily hard.

The movie ended, but neither of you made a move to get up. He grumbled about how bad it was, especially the ending. Quiet music filled the room as the title screen played across the television. You stared at the ceiling, head bent back against the couch.

"I just realized that I'm your dark secret."

"What?"

"You don't remember?" Tilting your head down to look at him, you frowned. "That first night we met at Prompto's party. I asked you what your dark secret was."

After a moment, his eyes widened slightly in recognition. "Yes, I remember now. I suppose you are, in a way."

"I finally found out your dark secret. It was me all along." You looked back up at the ceiling. "Now that's a shitty movie ending."

He hummed in agreement, then pushed his glasses up, rubbing at his eyes. "Care to know another secret?"

You let out a small laugh. "You know I do. Tell me."

Replacing his glasses, he said, "Prompto's party wasn't the first time I'd seen you."

You looked down at him again, this time in surprise. "We met before?"

He looked ridiculous, his hair at odd angles and glasses slightly off balance. "Not met. I only saw you. It was early September of last year. I was walking from the train station to Prompto's flat, and I saw you on your balcony."

You noticed his face growing slightly red. He was totally gone, higher than someone probably should be for their first time.

"You were smoking and singing to your plants. It was completely bizarre. I remember stopping because I couldn't believe someone so beautiful could make such a horrid noise." He chuckled, closing his eyes and tilting his head away from you. "Every time I visited Prompto, I passed this very building and thought 'that's where that strange woman who sings to her plants lives'."

You snorted, forcing yourself to ignore the part where he'd called you beautiful. He didn't know what he was saying, breaking his own anti-flirting rules. "And what did you think after you met me?"

Turning his head, he looked up at you, face still a little pink. "Lately I've thought 'that's where my strange friend who sings to her plants lives'."

Bringing a hand up, you brushed the stray bits of his bangs back in line with the rest, though it was a lost cause at that point. "Still strange, huh?"

His eyes drew closed at your touch, and his voice became a little softer. "Very."

You laughed quietly. "I've never seen you so relaxed."

"Hm," was all the response you got.

Not a line of worry marked his face. It was a welcome sight even though he'd likely make up for this experience by worrying doubletime once the high wore off. You slid his glasses off his face, and he opened his eyes to look up at you.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to help you relax," you answered plainly, leaning slightly forward to put them on the coffee table.

"Trying to smother me, more like," he said, voice muffled by your chest.

You laughed again and leaned back again. "There are worse ways to go."

"Indeed." His eyes closed again when you brought a hand up to trace gentle shapes into his face with your fingertips. Prompto had done this to you when you were incredibly high once, and it had felt amazing. You hadn't realized until after the fact that he'd been drawing obscenities on your face with a marker.

"You can't be allergic to magic, by the way," he murmured, completely off topic. "I did a bit of research. I'd meant to tell you earlier."

"That's good." You snickered at his sleepy insistence. "Maybe I'll take another lesson with Gladio and learn how to use magic next."

"Don't be silly. I'd be the one to teach you if it were even possible." He lifted a hand and the slightest shift of light, sharp and electric, danced from his palm and along his fingertips. It dissipated as quickly as he'd made it appear. "It's simple. I'd demonstrate if I weren't so ill at the moment."

He was completely out of it, breaths evening out into long, slow draws. You stared at every perfect line of his face. All the little beauty marks, every nearly imperceptible dip in his skin. You were going to have a hard time staging the breakup with this man.

Falling asleep that way, his head in your lap, you sank into the comfort of his closeness. It wasn't like Prompto, and it wasn't like any lover you'd had. You really wanted him to stick around in your life long enough for you to figure out just what this feeling was.

The next morning, he was gone and you lay alone on the couch. The balcony door had been shut, the television was off, and there was a blanket over you. Sluggish, you got to your feet and stumbled to the kitchen. On the fridge was a note in simple script. You read it as you chugged water as quickly as humanly possible.

Please take care of yourself.

You snorted. He wasn't your boss. His handwriting was nice, though, and you left it there as a reminder that someone, somewhere gave a shit about you.

Aranea was in your apartment the next day, sitting at your tiny kitchen table with you and eating stale coffee cakes without a care.

"I saw your newest fling. He's not your usual."

Gazing at her over your laptop, you frowned. "What, who?"

A smirk formed on her face. "The guy you were sleeping with the other night. You forgot your laundry so I had to bring it up. The place was freezing. Why did you leave the balcony door open?"

Oh, yeah.

"We got hot," you said, shrugging and returning your attention to the computer screen. You had an essay in Altissian due by midnight and didn't need the distraction.

"It was the most innocent thing I've ever walked in on." She tapped her fingertips on the tabletop.

You didn't look up. "That's because he's just a friend."

"Oh, like the shortcake?"

You nodded, knowing she meant Prompto.

"Now when will you give him a chance?"

Okay, that made you look up. "He's on some photography retreat for a whole week, and he told me he hopes to grow a goatee by the time he gets back. Can you imagine? Ew."

She laughed, a deep, lovely sound. "If he does, send him my way."

You sighed. Prompto would keel over if you told him that, but you wouldn't. The reason you admired Aranea —despite her sometimes gruff attitude and weird penchant for wandering your apartment as she pleased— was because you saw a lot in her of who you wanted to be. A single, self sufficient woman who took no shit. You had the single part down pat. The rest would come eventually.

It was also the reason you'd never send Prompto her way. He was the sweetest person to ever exist, and he deserved someone equally as sweet.

She stood up in the face of your prolonged silence. "I got some of your mail, by the way. I left it on the counter. Thought I'd let you know since you were waiting on some good news about that internship."

"Thanks," you mumbled, only half paying attention as she left.

You: Work is boring without Prompto.

Ignis: Sit in on a film.

You: :O

Ignis: It was only a suggestion.

You: First the drugs and now the illegal film hopping. You're out of control, Lord Ignis.

Ignis: That was an unfortunate accident.

Ignis: Also, for the sake of our friendship, never call me Lord. It's unsettling coming from you.

You: Why, Lord Ignis, I do declare, you are the finest Lord in all the land.

You: I'd go to the Lordphanage where all the unwanted Lords are, and I'd pick you because you're the best one, Lord Ignis.

You: If you were a rapper, your name would be Tha Yung Lord Igni$

Ignis: I wish I were properly courting you so that I could end it over this.

You: I think we got our breakup plan.

Ignis: Not quite, but admirable try.

The envelope stood out against the rest once you actually decided to look at your mail halfway through the week. Normally you spent at least one day a week marking out your name and address on every piece of mail with a black marker before throwing them away.

For safety reasons.

This particular piece of mail wouldn't be going in the trash, though. It was atop the pile of mail on your counter between an empty can of Ebony that you'd yet to clean up and your toaster.

The Altissian Film Academy's insignia was printed in a corner on the face of it. You tore it open carefully, unfolding the pages inside with deliberate slowness. This was it.

It wasn't good news.