Chapter 13

Read All About It

Could never have possibly hoped to explain the way he felt, when he saw someone there in his bed that morning as he awoke. Had never seen it before, and it was remarkable. That someone actually wanted to be there, and more remarkably, that he wanted that someone to be there. Twenty-six years now Titus had resided in Insomnia, and this was the very first morning he had woken up with someone other than Cor in his house.

Odd.

Ignis had a very intense way of staring, that perhaps he wasn't entirely aware of, and though Ignis had sounded nervous when he offered Titus a final way out, it was really Titus that had felt nervous.

Saying those stupid words at last. Hoped they tided Ignis over, because he wouldn't be saying them again for a damn long while. Felt ridiculous and vulnerable, and quickly leapt out of bed to dart into the shower.

He took his time, because some part of him worried Ignis would be gone when he stepped out.

Ignis wasn't.

Titus came out of the shower, and Ignis was standing over the stove, bustling and cooking. Mesmerized and dumbfounded, Titus came nosily over, peering over Ignis' shoulder, and he was quite astounded because he hadn't even thought he had enough food in the house to really make anything at all. Ignis had pulled something together out of nothing, and that was...

Well.

It was fuckin' fantastic, was what it was.

"I see your days stalking the chefs in the Citadel have well paid off," Titus said, offhandedly, and Ignis snorted.

"You gave me quite a challenge! Certainly didn't expect this much trouble, though perhaps I should have. A man like you."

"Trouble's my middle name."

"I've come to realize that this past year."

"You're not exactly a saint yourself, you know."

Ignis turned the stove off, glanced at Titus over his shoulder, and said, as he began plating up his improvised food, "That's news to me. I've heard that I'm positively saintly."

Ignis was absolutely a saint, for sure, until he managed to get Titus alone, and then he turned into a little hellion, but Titus couldn't really tell anyone that, so saintly it was.

Ignis set the plates on the table, poured the coffee, sat down, and stared at inert and immobile Titus.

Kinda felt like he was dreaming.

Titus might have been gawking a little at Ignis, for Ignis lifted his chin and quipped, "If you'd rather go out to eat..."

Titus instantly sat, so quickly that he banged his knee into the table, because he didn't want to offend Ignis at all but was just still so dumbfounded that any of this was actually happening. Ignis quirked a brow, studied him, and when Titus finally grabbed his coffee mug and pulled his plate forward, Ignis asked, "So, about that night on the town..."

Titus snapped his eyes up, inhaled, and then sat up very straight, posture suddenly perfect and hands in his lap.

A rush of adrenaline.

It was Titus that time who reminded, "The gossip and the tabloids would have a field day."

Ignis smiled, softly, lowering his eyes to his coffee and seemingly in thought.

"Well. If we are to... That is, it would only be inevitable."

Grasped what Ignis was trying to say.

'If we're in a real relationship now, then everyone will find out eventually.'

A relationship. Had never had one before, and it was still so foreign a concept that Titus wasn't really sure how to go about it all, but a real date might actually be a good first step.

Papers be damned.

All the same, Titus asked, "You really don't mind?"

"Do you?"

"Not if you don't."

"I don't if you don't."

Hopeless, the both of them.

Ignis' phone suddenly buzzed, he pulled it out, rolled his eyes, and began texting away. Titus snorted, and had to bite down his 'kids these days' comment, because hell, he was dating one.

Titus was also nosy, however, and pried, "Did someone finally notice that I kidnapped you last night?"

"Yes," Ignis droned, as he ever swiftly texted. "Noct has made a point to chastise me for abandoning him amidst the wolves."

Titus laughed, for now, because he would soon be getting his own earful from Regis and Clarus.

The sun began rising high above the horizon, the sky was bright blue, and it was time to take Ignis home. Alas. Ignis tried very hard to finish washing the dishes, and somehow managed by the time Titus had changed into his uniform.

"I guess I should return you," Titus teased, as Ignis looked him up and down with a smirk.

"Or we could just stay here all day."

Well! Yes, that. They could do that.

It was Titus' phone that buzzed then, and when he saw Clarus' name there, he winced a bit and changed his mind.

"Duty calls. You should have said something before I went through the demanding effort of putting on this uniform."

Ignis snorted, and happily kissed Titus' forehead when Titus came in to grab him up in a quick embrace.

"Will you come back tonight?"

"If you wish."

"I do."

Ignis' smile was pretty, and Titus could only take the kid home and look forward to some full-length, all hands on deck coddling that night. Pitiful, yes, but he had by now fully accepted his lack of dignity when it came to Ignis.

As he drove Ignis home, Ignis did tease, "You know, I had always envisioned you as a bit of a speed demon. I'm glad to say I was wrong."

"Not at all," Titus drawled. "But with you here I feel the need to be a bit more careful."

He meant that, and Ignis must have seen it on his face for his own expression softened.

When he parked and Ignis made to leave, he was pleasantly surprised when Ignis leaned over first to kiss him. Ah! Being a normal man was wonderfully quaint.

"See you in council, Captain," Ignis murmured, and was gone.

Titus rolled his eyes, and went about his day.

Clarus and Regis were on him the very moment he stepped into said council, as Titus was always the first one to arrive, now that Cor delayed, anyway.

Regis turned to Clarus, and said, so airily, "Clarus! Did you see Titus escape last night? I looked up and he was suddenly gone."

"As I noticed, your Majesty," Clarus happily uttered, looking Titus up and down. "As I also noticed that Ignis happened to disappear around the same time. My son was looking everywhere for him and came up empty-handed."

"Hm! Most curious. Must be a coincidence."

"I'm sure. They must have gotten lost in completely separate locations, no correlation at all."

Titus sighed, shook his head, and grunted, "Don't you two have more important things to be worrying about?"

"Yes," they replied, at the same time, and Clarus added, "But this is more fun."

"Far more entertaining," Regis agreed.

"Glad to be of service," Titus griped, as he sat.

Council trickled in shortly after, and when everyone was assembled, Titus glanced up to the chair in the corner, where Ignis sat down, briefcase in hand and ready to take notes, as he always did.

Ignis met his eyes, lips pursed as he tried very hard to remain stoic, and it was only when he thought he heard Clarus snort that Titus looked away from Ignis.

Bastards.

As it had been before that brief break, Titus and Ignis locked eyes frequently as the council convened, and afterwards Titus tormented Ignis in the halls without missing a beat. He wondered if anyone at all had even noticed that they had separated for just a while there, Glaives aside.

Speaking of Glaives...

Titus felt very much under the microscope that day, as Nyx and Luche had seen him practically dragging Ignis away the night before.

Nyx, in particular, was on Titus the minute he walked in, observing him pointedly, as it had been Nyx who had ever-so-helpfully warned Titus that Ignis was creeping over to Luche.

Guess he owed Nyx a beer or something one day.

Nyx was staring at him, as he always was, and Titus knew that he was smiling ever so slightly but couldn't be bothered to wipe it from his face. A bit later, Nyx lifted his chin and snorted, and Titus knew that Nyx's one working brain cell had finally deduced that a reconciliation had occurred.

Luche might not have been as happy as Nyx about the reconciliation, but Luche loved power more than anything else and was still quite in the clouds from Titus' recently granted promotion, and a happy Titus would, in the end, a happy Luche make. So Luche still stood up straight and smirked away at Titus, and crept in all the same later that evening to ask for more extra credit assignments.

Titus nearly rolled his eyes as they stared at him, and would have griped, 'Give me some space, mom and dad,' but that woulda just made them start teasing him again.

When the first tabloids broke with photo evidence, though, Titus was in for one hell of a workday. Might have just called out sick. Crowe's smirk alone when she could at last hold a tabloid with a photo would have sucked Titus' soul right out, he was sure of it.

When Titus was once more supervising the new recruits attempting to master the tricky business of warping, his phone buzzed. And even though Titus new that Nyx was always staring at him, always watching him, Titus couldn't help but smile anyway when he saw Ignis' text there.

'My place or yours tonight?'

Damn. What a thrill that was, stupid as it seemed.

He glanced over, to where Nyx was smirking away, and shook his head to himself.

Titus replied very quickly, and didn't bat a single eye when a recruit thudded to the ground right in front of him. Didn't even lift his gaze from his phone when he drolled, dutifully, "Good effort. Try again."

A pained, low, "Yes, sir!"

He tucked his phone away, feeling like the master of the universe for whatever reason, puffed out and arrogant and pleased with himself (as any middle-aged man who had successfully snared a teenager would be), and he thought he spied Nyx roll his eyes.

When Titus passed Nyx later on to retreat into his office, Nyx uttered, for only him to hear, "Don't let it go to your head, Captain."

Titus turned to look Nyx up and down, and whispered in turn, "I couldn't possibly, Nyx. This headquarters is already overflowing with your ego. Not enough room for the rest of us non-heroes."

"You flatter me, sir."

Titus grimaced, scoffed, and carried on, because he needed to get his paperwork done as quickly as possible so that he could get the hell home and wait for Ignis to come and fuss over him.

And fuss over him Ignis did, when the sun had set and Titus opened the door when Ignis knocked.

Ignis swept ever so gracefully in, removing his jacket and shoes, and Titus made a point of pressing up against him and leaning so much of his weight against Ignis' chest that Ignis nearly tottered backwards. A snort, a sigh, and Ignis ran a hand over Titus' hair and drawled, "Poor old thing."

Old? Hey—

Titus made no rush to ease up, and Ignis all but shoved Titus over to the couch and pushed him down upon it. As Ignis sat atop him, however, Titus perked up quite a bit, and Ignis very much noticed with a shake of his head.

"Not so tired now, are we?"

"Said who?" Titus retorted, as he buried his face in Ignis' chest so that Ignis would run his hands down his neck and shoulders.

"And here I was thinking we were going to have a fun night."

"Define 'fun'."

"Well, I was rather hoping we could go out for a ride on the town. And then come back here for another ride."

Instantly, Titus lifted his head, very much interested. Those tabloids would be hell on earth, yeah, but it was only inevitable and maybe it was best just to go ahead and get it over with as early as possible.

The sooner the city got over them, the better.

Titus and Ignis stared at each other, contemplating and communicating for a moment without words, and they must have come to some silent understanding because half an hour later they were dressed and ready to go.

Ignis shook his head, looked Titus up and down, and fussed, "You couldn't even try to shine up for your film debut, could you?"

Titus looked down at himself, and didn't see the problem. His ancient jacket. Grey t-shirt, wrinkled to hell. Black slacks, equally wrinkled. Old boots. So what?

"Forgive me. I'm not a fashion icon like you."

Ignis gave a dramatic, beleaguered sigh, and when Titus held open the front door for him, Ignis grumbled, "Suppose that's part of your charm, that devil-may-care appearance of utter destitution. Out of uniform, the Captain looks as if he's been sleeping under the border bridge for no less than three days."

H-hey—!

This kid was mouthy as hell.

It might have said something about Titus that he loved it when Ignis roasted him to hell and back, and so Titus just grabbed Ignis' upper arm and dragged him out to the car, not so harshly. Ignis smirked the entire while, and when Titus started the car and pulled out, he nearly crashed the damn thing because Ignis had suddenly twisted at the side and leaned over Titus' lap.

Whoa!

Ignis heard his gasp of disbelief, and glanced up, expression very condescending, and he uttered, "Don't get too excited. I'm merely attempting to remove as many of these wrinkles as possible before the cameras find us."

Ignis' hands did indeed begin smoothing the wrinkles in his shirt and pants out, and Titus grumbled, "Dammit."

Ignis snorted.

A very low, very sultry murmur.

"Perhaps you can get more excited on the way back if you behave yourself in public."

A rush of heat, and Titus could only concede, "Yes, boss."

Car blowjob? Irresponsible, childish, contributed to impaired driving, made him lose focus, had the potential to cause a very embarrassing accident, and Titus would never. Never, unless, of course, Ignis didn't ask permission, which he wouldn't, and then, well... Then it wouldn't be his fault, and that was fine.

So there. Titus' duty was done on that end, and whatever happened, happened.

Anyway, first he had to 'behave himself', and when they parked downtown and began walking out into the crowded streets, Titus realized that that was slightly more difficult than he might have first anticipated.

At last, for the first time, Titus and Ignis went out into the public eye.

And it was absolutely everything Titus had expected.

Everyone stared, gawked, whispered, and not thirty seconds later Titus heard the first camera shutter. Already, he was irritated, though he had known all along it would be this way.

Titus wasn't a royal; he was used to his share of journalists, yes, but he wasn't stalked day after day like Regis and Noctis were, he wasn't used to buying a coffee and looking up to see a dozen cameras outside the glass. Not used to being put on the spot like this. If it hadn't been Ignis that Titus was with, no one would have cared as much. If Ignis wasn't so young as well, perhaps there would have been less scrutiny.

Ignis sensed Titus' agitation, no doubt, for he suddenly reached out, looped his arms around Titus' right, and began walking him along.

Ignis was much more used to the cameras, being at Noctis' side always as he was, and didn't even blink when someone pulled their phone out, walked right up to them, and took a photo.

Titus was aghast, at the lack of boundaries.

Ignis whispered, helpfully, "If they get too close to you, do what Noct used to do; he'd just throw out a little jolt of lightning. Once people realized that any electronics within a certain distance would be zapped, they stepped right off."

Brilliant.

"How'd he keep his own phone from frying?"

"He didn't," Ignis drolled, as he led Titus to an outdoor table in front of a bar. "The first few times, anyway. Then we bought shock-proof cases, and the problem was solved."

Titus would invest in one of those immediately, like yesterday, because as soon as they sat down at the table, some paparazzo with a camera was behind the railing. Right behind them, so close that if Titus had jerked his elbow back he coulda broken the creep's nose.

Tempting.

First, Titus needed to learn his rights.

Ignis ordered some drinks and raised a brow when Titus pulled out his phone, flipped through it, and put it up to his ear. Titus sent him a look, and when Clarus answered, on the third ring, he griped, "What do you want?"

"Testy," Titus grumbled, as the camera light behind him grated his nerves. "I just had a question."

"Oh? Do tell."

Titus raised his voice then, just enough for the cameraman behind him to hear, "Yeah, legally speaking, how much trouble will I be in if I punch a member of the press in the face?"

Clarus laughed, Ignis snorted, and the camera shutter behind him suddenly stopped.

"Well... Pretty sure you'd be cleared easily. If not by the court, then by the King. Have at it. Want me to come? I haven't punched a journalist since Gladiolus was four. I'm really overdue. Just know that if you smash their camera, you'll probably have to pay for it. But it's always worth it."

"Noted."

"So! Tell me! Where are you? What are you up to? Are you on a date, you son of a bitch? You didn't ask my permission."

Titus pulled the phone away from his ear and thrust it at Ignis, holding it out and crankily saying, "Tell your dad that I have permission to take you on a date."

Ignis was the one to laugh, as he called to the phone, "My permission is granted, Clarus! I'll get you to write yours down tomorrow."

Titus could hear Clarus' voice over the phone, but hung up on the old bastard nonetheless.

"Thanks," Titus drawled, as he glanced over his shoulder to see that the determined paparazzo had gone safely to the other side of the street. Good, because Ignis suddenly leaned over and kissed Titus' cheek, just for show because the cameras were working overtime.

"That ought to be a good front page cover," Ignis muttered in Titus' ear, and Titus rolled his eyes.

"The night is yet young. I'll see if I can come up with a better one."

"Careful," Ignis warned. "Don't want to offend 'dad', now, do we."

"Yes. I do, actually. Very much."

"Your funeral."

"I can take him," Titus grunted, and Ignis scoffed.

"Careful—you're starting to sound like Gladio."

Another camera was suddenly far too close to his face, and that time Titus tried to stand up from the table to throw hands but Ignis snatched his arm and hauled him right back down.

Titus was used to being able to threaten his Glaives with physical violence, because he owned them, and it was a little disconcerting that the rest of the world wasn't inherently susceptible to his usual 'I'll break your legs' threat.

Civilians were off limits, mostly, and that sucked right about then.

"Now, now, Captain," Ignis crooned, as he reached under the table and brushed Titus' knee with his fingers. "Don't let them rile you up. That's my job."

Titus scoffed, pressed his boot into Ignis' shoe, and griped, "I don't mind them, as long as they're well across the street. When they get into my personal space, I get a little angry."

"Don't worry. As soon as you buy protection for your phone, I'll think they'll be shocked into obedience."

"It will be an electrifying experience."

"Positively scintillating."

"A dazzling show."

Since he couldn't shock the bastards yet without frying his own phone, Titus just raised his fist to the next cameraman that came too close, as Ignis rolled his eyes and hammered back drinks. Somehow, someway, Titus kept his hands to himself for the rest of the night as he and Ignis drank out in the open, and when he walked with Ignis through the streets afterwards, he didn't break any cameras. This time.

He was quite proud of himself, and when they were finally back in Titus' car, he was quick to look over and ask, hopefully, "Did I behave myself?"

Ignis lifted his chin, and uttered, "Well enough, I suppose."

Titus started the car, shifted his weight, and waited.

He kept on glancing at Ignis from the corner of his eye, and Ignis smiled away so innocently, before asking, "What? Are you expecting something?"

"You're such a tease," Titus griped, and meant it.

Maybe he was pouting a little, for Ignis suddenly leaned over, pressed up against him, and breathed, "Oh, the poor Captain! Far be it from me to break hearts."

And that was the last Ignis spoke, when he leaned all the way over and his head disappeared beneath the steering wheel.

Yes.

Amazingly irresponsible, and Titus loved every damn minute of it, in spite of how many times he may have accidentally pumped the brake too hard. Maybe he swerved a few times here and there, just a little, what with one hand tangled in Ignis' hair. A little hellion, alright. They made it home in one piece, and the car got a little fogged up in the garage when the ignition cut and Ignis instead straddled him in the driver's seat.

All around a fairly decent night.

The morning, however, was a different story.

Clarus and Regis leered away at him in council, Ignis wisely chose to sit that one out, and Titus knew that the papers had already broken the story, though he hadn't yet seen them. No doubt Clarus had a rolled up tabloid in his pocket as they spoke, and when Titus tried to leave, Clarus leaned in and whispered, "I've got my eye on you."

Yeah, sure, dad.

It took every bit of willpower Titus possessed not to turn to Clarus and say, 'Your 'child' likes to be choked and slapped and have his hair pulled. Do I need permission for that?'

Clarus would have broken his nose right there and then might have had a heart-attack.

So Titus just smirked at Clarus in passing, content with knowing that Clarus couldn't even begin to imagine the things Titus was doing to his second little princess.

Unholy.

And then it was time to go to headquarters, and therefore time to walk by those papers. Titus tried to steel himself, but knew it was pointless.

Titus ambled slowly by the newspaper stands, brow high as he looked over the tabloids.

Woof.

Just as bad as he had imagined, and everywhere he looked. Every single goddamn paper, Titus had to see his own ugly mug staring back at him. Most unfortunate. Even Insomnia's official newspaper had them as the front page. Ignis kissing his cheek for the world to see. But, hey, wait—he didn't remember smiling when that had happened. Had he been smiling? He was so certain he had been grimacing, but the photo depicted something different. Hadn't even realized he was smiling.

Disgusting.

Oh, to be Clarus and Regis then, and feel the devious joy they must have.

The headlines were atrocious.

'OFFICIAL AT LAST! The Captain and the Hand of the King spotted on a romantic stroll around town.'

'The Crown City's new Romeo and Juliet! Royal wedding surely in progress!'

'Captain Casanova spotted sweeping the Hand of the King off of his feet.'

'Love is in the air! The Citadel's power couple finally takes to the public eye.'

'The Hand of the King on the arm of the Captain! Drautos tamed at last.'

Tamed? What the— And one particularly enthusiastic tabloid just read, in huge red letters, 'WEDDING BELLS!'

Goddammit.

Everything he had expected, and everything he had dreaded. Wished he coulda just sank right into the sidewalk. The old man at the newspaper stand stared at Titus, and then started laughing. Titus' laser glare had no effect on the old son of a bitch, and Titus finally trudged on.

Death would have been a mercy at that point, and Titus raised his eyes briefly to the chaotic street and considered walking right into traffic. Meh—on second thought, fuckin' Ardyn probably woulda offed himself too just to follow him there with a stack of tabloids to torment him in the afterlife. Best just to keep walking.

Stepping into headquarters was even worse.

Could hear the laughter outside the door, and when he walked in they barely managed to stifle it.

The Glaives struggled to wipe their faces clean, and Titus looked them over and threatened them soundly by saying, in the most serious voice he possessed, "If any of you, at any point in time, for the remainder of my miserable life, call me 'Romeo', I swear to the Astrals you'll never walk again."

Crowe hissed, "Dammit!"

Pelna snorted, squirmed, looked a breath away from keeling over, lips pursed and very obviously attempting not to laugh in Titus' face.

Titus advanced on him, and asked, "Something to say, Pelna? Huh?"

Pelna shook his head, helplessly, absolutely unable to untwist his face however hard he tried, and shortly after Pelna couldn't hold it in anymore and burst into laughter. And he didn't stop laughing, the creep, kept on and on until he was crying, and then Libertus started going, Luche followed, and Titus stood before a room full of cackling Glaives.

Couldn't do a damn thing about it, either, because he couldn't break all of their legs, as that would leave Insomnia with no defense.

Joy.

"Get it out of your systems," he shouted, crankily, as they howled and giggled.

Even Nyx was laughing, covering his mouth with his hand and turning aside to save face, and Titus would have been more keen to it if it hadn't been at his expense.

That was a long damn morning, and Titus put Nyx on Citadel duty just to torment the jerk, he shafted Pelna and Crowe with the West Gate, Libertus got sent to the Crownsguard HQ door, and Luche, the smarmy son of a bitch, got tossed off into his least favorite place in the city entire—the Royal Museum.

Titus kept his eyes very much away from the television, afraid he'd see his face there on the news.

Ignis texted him in the middle of the day, and Titus actually barked a laugh when he read it.

'Romeo! Wherefore art thou? Come to my balcony tonight.'

Okay. Ignis could call him that, if he wanted. Sparingly. Glad Ignis found this so amusing, he supposed, because Titus certainly needed someone there to keep him levelheaded in the presence of this never-ending torment.

Hoped that Cor hadn't had a breakdown seein' it all, though.

Titus' thumb lingered over Cor's name, as he contemplated sending a text. Didn't, in the end, because he just didn't know what to say.

Best not to think of how much he missed that man, and focus instead on Ignis. When Titus pulled into Ignis' apartment complex (after stopping downtown to purchase one of those shock-proof phone cases), he walked to the stairwell and saw Ignis leaning on the third-story railing above.

Ignis called down, "There you are, my Romeo."

There was no one else around, so Titus called back to him, "Come down, then, Juliet. I got housekeeping with your name on it."

Ignis scoffed, "That's not at all romantic."

"You expect too much of me."

A dramatic sigh, and Titus' heart jolted when Ignis suddenly hopped atop the railing and said, so casually, "Catch me then!"

Wait, what?

Wide awake and full of adrenaline, Titus barely had time to summon his dagger and throw it up when Ignis decided to gracefully slide right over the railing and towards the ground. He managed to warp halfway up and catch the crazy brat, tumbling them not so gracefully but very safely down to the ground.

Ignis smiled up at Titus as they knelt on the asphalt, and was quite serene when he uttered, "That was a bit more romantic."

Hardly; terrifying, more like.

"Hey, how about not doing that again?"

"I'll sleep on it."

Ignis was completely fearless, and Titus hoped that he wouldn't jump out of windows or off balconies into any of his future lover's arms, if there were any. If something ever happened and Ignis ended up in Cor's clutches, Titus might have to text Ignis and remind him that Cor couldn't warp and therefore tossing himself off of buildings into Cor's arms would have been very ill-advised.

Titus hauled Ignis to his feet, dragged him to the car, heart still hammering as he drove Ignis to his house.

...kids these days.

Ignis was oddly excited when he burst into Titus' house, however, and was quick to ask, "What task did you have in mind?"

None at all, actually, but he didn't get to say that because Ignis was suddenly just stalking about Titus' home like a coeurl, eyes alert and focused and pouncing on any untidy thing he happened to see.

Titus pursed his lips and watched, and decided it was best to let stubborn Ignis do as he pleased.

But when Ignis began going through Titus' dresser, inspecting his clothing for loose threads, Titus felt a twinge of something close to guilt, and he finally said, softly, "I was kidding, you know. Don't think you actually need to do anything. I know you don't believe it, but I really can take care of myself."

Ignis snorted, happily continuing his perusing of Titus' dresser, and he didn't even look back at Titus as he said, so airily, "It's no bother! I rather enjoy it. Gives me something to do, now that Noct doesn't like for me to be his housewife so much these days. I think it embarrasses him. Seems you're going to be my next target, Captain. And there's no getting out of it for you like there was for Noct. Regis will not come to save you."

No doubt about that; Regis had set this entire thing into motion.

Oddly elated and content, Titus could only breathe, "Guess I have no choice but to suffer."

Ignis made a throaty noise of pleasure, and settled the matter with a deep, "Good. Glad we understand each other."

They did, and Titus couldn't say too many people out there actually understood him.

Shortly afterwards, Ignis took the pile of clothes he had collected, set them on the end table, sat down on the sofa, and Titus was breathlessly captivated as Ignis pulled his long legs underneath him and began mending Titus' clothes.

Mesmerizing.

Somehow, the sight of it was identical to that image Titus had had in his head before as he had daydreamed. Seeing it in person was spectacular. Spectacular, because in his head then they weren't in Insomnia. They were in a little wooden house out in the forest, high above the rocky coast. No skyscrapers outside; pine and lupines and hazel. The sea.

Home.

He wanted to take Ignis home.

Regis had indeed set this entire thing into motion, because Regis had somehow known that Titus would stumble and fall. But Regis had miscalculated. Falling in love didn't make Titus more loyal to Insomnia; it only exacerbated that desperate need to go home. Because now he had someone that he wanted to take home, to be with, to settle down with, someone to stand at his side in his homeland and to... Well. Sounded so ridiculous, so stupid, but gods help him, someone to marry.

Ludicrous, and yet here he was.

Regis had sensed Titus would fall, yes, but hadn't predicted correctly in which way the wind would blow.

Titus wanted to go home and take Ignis with him, and for it was ever more fervent to help expedite the great fall. Couldn't come fast enough.

Titus impatiently awaited Ardyn's orders.

When Insomnia fell, his lands would be free, Titus would retire, and Glauca would cease to exist.

If Titus were careful enough, Ignis would never come to discover who he really was.