[Direct Journal Entries]

7th of February, M.E. 759

I'm not certain how she managed it, but Aleya surprised me today with a cold Ebony and a chocolate tarte. Seems she hasn't forgotten the date despite our nomadic lives. I must admit I did.

Twenty-five? Why do I feel so much older?

12th of February, M.E. 759

Leya desires a break. We've stopped over at the Hunter's base in old Fort Vaulleroy. It's been overtaken by monsters, but we managed to find a safe shelter within. We barricaded in the east section, procuring bunks in the warehouse and the ability to use the facilities, though limited. We've kept this wing's doors tightly sealed. I'm afraid we're stuck here until she's up and about again.

We've made best use of our time, though. She's tired, but she's dutifully read over the data we've collected. We'll spend the next few days translating what we can and studying it as we go. At this point, it all sounds as gibberish. The ancient kings had riddles engraved for their eulogies. Perhaps it wouldn't be so difficult if it weren't in an ancient language.

I'm sure we'll make short work of it together, though.

18th of March, M.E. 759

The climb was tough on my counterpart. I don't believe she fully realized we were actually going to climb Ravatogh until we stood at the base of the mountain. She plowed ahead doggedly without much complaint for the majority of the expedition. Though I think her energy was spent before the climb went completely vertical. I thought she'd never manage the first ascent, much less the second. After a short break, an extensive pep-talk, allowing me an extensive head-start, and about thirty taunt feet of climbing rope, she somehow clambered over the edge. I'd never tell her, but I think I pulled her up the last fifteen feet or so. By the time I got her back on flat ground, her limbs had gone to jelly and she expelled all gastric contents. She couldn't get her feet under her, so I had to mostly carry her to havenrock—though she swears she walked. She didn't eat. She simply collapsed. I'll wake her after I finish up this entry and a bit of a meal. I doubt she'll eat, but I may be able to convince her to rehydrate.

She's not built for physical exertion, unless it comes in the form of a polite jog about the Capital. Although even then, I outpace her. I only slowed down back then to humor her. What she lacks in physical prowess is certainly augmented by her determination, however. In all fairness, I think she's evenly matched with Prompto when it comes to climbing mountains.

Noct would have loved to seen her tackle that cliff face. I can imagine him partly concerned and mostly amused.

How I miss him.

20th of March, M.E. 759

Ignis ran his hand along the dust-covered wall, tracing the inscriptions carefully. "Here it speaks of the power of The Six," Ignis stated, "and how it is granted unto men who are powerful in body and humble of spirit. It speaks of unbendable will that can both control and yield into immeasurable strength. Though it also speaks of a human child begotten by the Infernian, and how he was hidden away to keep knowledge of his power concealed." Ignis waited for some indication that Aleya was as interested in the writings as he. She hadn't said much lately, and now was no exception. Last he asked, she had claimed a headache and refused any further investigation into the cause. Still, her quiet mood was concerning. Usually, she was over the moon to participate in the scrutiny of historical non-fiction. He turned to her. "Leya? Did you get all of that?"

She seemed startled. "Hmm? No, sorry—I—can you just re-read the last part?"

"From where?"

"Something about The Six?"

Ignis sighed loudly. This was getting them nowhere.

"I'm…I'm sorry. I just—this headache. I can't seem to concentrate. And all that noise is not helping."

He tilted his head, trying to find any unfamiliar din. "What noise?"

There was a short silence. The disbelief was palpable. "Seriously? Ignis, your ears outrange Umbra's. I know you hear that!"

He tilted his head again. "Ah. You must mean the imps."

"Yes, the imps, and the iron giants, and the mindflayers! Don't you hear them?"

"Yes. And an occasional spiracorn."

"Doesn't it bother you? They never shut up."

He shrugged slightly. "I suppose I'm used to it. It's white noise to me, now."

"White…?" With that, she fell silent.

He wasn't sure what to make of that. She could have been furious with him for not being more sympathetic. She might have been musing on when she might grow as accustomed to such things as he. She also could be nursing a terrible headache. It wasn't lost on Ignis that she was his first attempt at a romantic relationship, and that he could do with much more education in the dating department. He wondered if he had done something wrong. "Are you alright?"

No answer.

"Aleya?"

It was her turn to sigh. It was long and dramatic. "I'm fine."

"Would you like to take a break?"

"No. Repeat the last line."

"If you need to rest for a…"

"Say the last line!" She snapped. "And maybe you want to hurry it up, before I lose what's left of my sanity!"

There was no denying the fury in her voice. Oh, yes; He had definitely done something wrong. He had yet to experience her ardor in full force, and he had no intent to start now. He swallowed hard and turned back to the stone wall. "Very well," he replied with noticeable hesitancy. "The might of The Six is transferred unto men who are powerful in body and humble…."

He heard the pen scratch as she let out an irate vocalization that sounded somewhere between a growl and a low roar. "I can't concentrate!" She griped, and he heard something hit the tomb doors. The sound did not occur from without, but within. Judging by the soft 'splat' of the object, he surmised she had most likely thrown one of her shoes.

"Leya…." He began, trying to be patient.

"How do you get used to that?" Her voice sounded accusatory. "It's driving me insane!" She threw the other shoe.

He stood silently, flabbergasted at her behavior. He couldn't remember a time when she had lost it the way she was doing now—except for perhaps when she confronted her brother for insulting him. He thought for a while longer. No, that hadn't been the only time. She had also yelled at him when she had thought of resigning her position. And it wasn't as if he had never known her to be fearful, either. To the contrary: She had been terrified when he had been injured after the battle with Yore. He could also recall her gaze of wide-eyed trepidation when he had escorted her to the dance floor in front of the dozens of Insomnian Aristocrats.

Ah, dancing…Even though she had never performed a Lucian waltz back then, they had fallen into perfect synchrony with the steps. He remembered quite well grasping her firmly, moving with purpose. She had no choice but to follow his confident choices. And in short order, with her quick wit, she had learned. In time, they had relaxed, two bodies in motion, with nary a care in the…

He turned back to her slightly and slid his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose. "Would you come here for a moment?"

"Why?" Her voice sounded irritated and somewhat drained.

He extended a hand to his side. "If you please."

He heard her knees pop as she stood, heard the creak of the leather jacket as she moved up from slightly behind him, to his side.

"Might I have your hand?"

Ever the loyal and submissive assistant, she extended her own hand and took his. "Why? What are you…?"

He turned sharply and wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her into his chest snugly.

She tried to pull away in alarm. "Ignis! What are you doing?!"

"May I have this dance?"

"Dance? Wh—What? Right here? In the royal tomb? With those things outside?"

He didn't respond. He simply smiled.

"You can't be serious."

With a gentle sway to the left, he began humming.

"You've lost your mind."

He broke the humming off temporarily, "Probably," and then continued, without missing a note.

"This is crazy."

"Mmm… indeed."

"Why are we…?"

"Shhh," he responded, and the humming continued as they glided about the tomb, gracefully avoiding the casket on multiple occasions. After a few moments, Aleya had relented, and then shortly after, began following along. Soon, her memory kicked in as he had known it would, and she danced the steps of that waltz he had taught her so long ago. All else began to fade away. Her body began to relax; Her silhouette merging into his, her hand easing to a light brush on his shoulder.

Ignis devoted himself fully, making his steps sharper and more purposeful. And when he was sure she was adequately distracted, he began to converse. "Tell me your favorite dish."

"Um…favorite dish? I guess pasta."

"Any particular flavor?"

"Not really. Any kind of pasta is my weakness."

"I see." With a light 'ta-da-da-da' he spun on his heel, bringing her around on the ball of her bare foot quickly.

She took a shallow breath. "And you? Your favorite dish?"

"Cutlet with tomato sauce."

She grinned. "You didn't even need a second to think."

He leaned down slightly, aligning his mouth closely to her ear for a brief moment. "I'm a man that knows what I like," he told her, and then stood fully upright again, not missing a single step.

She cleared her throat and adjusted her grip on his hands. Her heart beat was beginning to increase in pace. So she had caught his meaning, he guessed. She stayed silent, now curling the fingers of her hand resting on his shoulder into her palm slightly. "Tell me a convenience you've missed since the start of the Long Night."

"Oh, gosh." He could see the outline of her face lifting to the sky, as if looking for a heavenly divinity to give her the answer. "There are a lot of things. But if I had to settle on just one, I'd say a hot bath."

"Ah. A hot bath. I'm inclined to agree."

She began to get quite conversational at this point. "You can get showers, of course, but only quick ones. And you can only pray that there's enough hot water. I can't tell you how many times I've had to rush before I froze to death. I'd love to kick back in a tub of water, filled to my throat. So hot that it hurts to sit in it for the first five minutes. So deep that your body floats. I want to get my ears full of water and just relax. I loved your tub back in…" She caught herself, obviously embarrassed. She had never told him she had used his tub for a hot soak when she stayed at his apartment. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she stammered out an ending. "I…I just miss hot baths. So much."

"Hmmm." Step right, quick and sharp turn left.

Her right hand left his for a moment as he spun her around, and then their fingers met again, briefly interlocking. She attempted to divert his attention from the mental image of her taking a bubble bath in his tub back in Insomnia. "I bet I can guess what you miss."

"Dark roast Ebony, hot, with a dash of mint crème," They said together, before they both broke out into a laugh.

"I suppose I'm not difficult to decrypt?"

Her hand left his shoulder for a moment to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. "With coffee? No. With Noct, no. With relationships? That's another story."

He leaned forward again; This time his lower lip made contact with her ear as he murmured within. "Oh? I thought I was being quite transparent." He again stood to his full height. "Am I not?"

She gave a nervous laugh. Her hand turned clammy in his hand. Her pulse was definitely quickening, and he was positive it was not just from the exertion of the dancing. "This is silly."

Yes it was. They were both dirty, exhausted. Aleya was barefoot, and he was doing all he could to avoid kicking her instep or descending downward onto her toes. Instead of the shimmer and rustle of fine lace, silks, and satins, there was the creak of dusty leather and the occasional clang of one of the climbing hooks on their belts. They were quite nearly and literally dancing on the grave of one of the Kings' past, locked in a suffocating mausoleum, while creatures waited without to rend them asunder.

That wasn't the point. He had done her a kindness by catching her attention away from the woes outside—though he felt humiliatingly awkward- while also winning his own slight reward in the process. "Tell me a secret."

She swallowed. Her voice trembled just a bit. "What kind of secret?"

"A secret you dared never tell me before now."

The silence lasted longer this time. She was either sorting through many such secrets—which he found to be both thrilling and terrifying—or she was working up the nerve to tell him. It was, as he found out, the later. "When I was working as your assistant, you used to always complain about the missing stepladder in the library. The truth is, it wasn't always missing." She chuckled nervously. "I used to hide it, and pretended I needed a book on the top shelf. So you'd get it for me."

"I see." That was her deepest, darkest secret? Disappointing. And yet, somehow adorably endearing.

She tried to explain, fearing he had misunderstood. "It wasn't a prank or anything. It was so that you woul-you know-be close to me." Her voice trailed off with embarrassment.

He twisted abruptly, dropping her into the perfect dip. He held her there for a moment. "Naughty." With that, he pulled her back to their original position, continuing to sway to the music in his head. He had stopped humming some time ago, but Aleya was still keeping up with the steps, anyway.

She clammed up, obviously not knowing what to make of his new-found charisma. It was no doubt puzzling. She probably wondered if he was ill. He had never been much of a flirt. All prior attempts had been somewhat clumsy, so he avoided a reattempt at all cost. Besides, he knew full well how bashful she could be. She was probably mortified at her previous admission. Best to offer a balm to her wounded ego.

He smiled. "I watched you from across the room."

She adjusted her grip on his hand. "When?"

He stopped moving suddenly, ending the dance in one smooth motion. Still, he held her in his arms, and focused his attention where her face would be. He imagined himself looking into her eyes, just as he had back on the dancefloor in Insomnia. There was a long pause. He simply held her against him. Her breath went still and she began to tremble just a bit. "Always." He told her softly.

Her pulse halted, and then raced suddenly. Her stalled breath gulped all at once. "Ignis…"

"Tell me," He continued, still holding her firmly against him. "Does your world sound more quiet?"

She let out a disbelieving giggle. "Did you do this because—because you wanted to take my mind off of the noise?"

"Did it work?"

"I thought you were trying to be romantic," she muttered, trying to push herself out of his arms.

He kept his grip firm. "I was. Though I admit, my method may not have struck upon perfection."

She stood silent, staring up at him in wide-eyed amazement, completely lost for words.

He could sense she was starting at him. He wondered if she would remember. "'There's no need to ever be afraid. Eyes on me only, as if we are the only two in the world. Shut out the rest… Relax, and simply follow. Trust me.'" At times, his eidetic memory came in handy. Though he never imagined using it for such a purpose, now was one of those times. He felt her let out a short breath. She was no doubt remembering their first dance; How terrified she had been of the rumors that threatened his reputation. She had always been concerned about him first, even when it hurt her deeply. No matter her idiosyncrasies, he was certain he had enough of his own to match. She had never had to be perfect to set his heart out of rhythm.

Her hands that had just protested now relaxed against his arms. "You remember that?"

"If it pertains to you or to Noctis, I remember nearly everything. Though at times, I think…." He stopped speaking when she unexpectedly stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. He froze, a soft chill running over him.

She whispered to him. "You're so good to me, Ignis."

He smiled at her and opened his mouth to reply.

"I love you."

The cold thrill was instantly replaced by a homey warmth he couldn't identify. He was deliriously happy. He couldn't help but grin quite stupidly. "I believe that's the first time you've said such a thing."

"It is? I'm sure I've said it."

"I'm certain I would've remembered it. I declared my feelings for you before Ardyn arrived. We haven't spoken of it since. Though I assume our affections have been mutual?"

She paused. "I'm sorry I didn't say it before."

A warm silence passed between them for a moment. "Still. It's good to hear."

She let out a relieved laugh, just before he hazarded the chance at meeting her mouth with his own. She gave a polite reciprocation before pulling back. "You'd better let me go, now." At his questioning expression, she looked away in embarrassment. "We're all alone in here. I don't want to overstep any boundaries."

With Aleya in his grasp, he was feeling remarkably amorous. "Step anywhere you wish."

She became a bit cautious. "Ignis, I'm serious! Let me go. We've got work to do anyway. Let me go!"

With a bit of reluctance, he released his grip. "Very well." He couldn't hide his disappointment.

She began to step away and then suddenly darted back, giving him a quick teasing peck on his chin. Then with a giggle of shy euphoria, she flitted across the room to set back to work.

Ignis stood for a moment in the dark, alone. He felt somehow satisfied and somehow unfulfilled, and he was unsure why. All he knew was that he had never felt anything quite like what he was feeling now, not even with her.

"Ignis? You ready to get to work or what?"

"But of course," he replied, snapping out of his reverie. With that, they set back to work in a decidedly more cheerful mood than when they had terminated it. His initial annoyance at the interruption was replaced by elation and humor.

He listened to her voice as she read back what he told her, smiling softly to himself. He had never been bothered with romance before he met her. She was his first concept of love. She was a concept he discovered in his younger days, a concept he tried to nurture before the dark, a hope he nearly lost in his dark days, and the one thing he couldn't lose, now. He had never believed in the value of romance, or cared for it either.

Not before he had met her, he hadn't. It didn't matter. He would write his own love story; The only requirement being that it had to be with her, and no one else.

She was his guiding light, his warming fire, his heart. She was his Aleya.

[Direct Journal Entry]:

7th of April, M.E. 759

It's still raining. It's rained for a week now. The hotsprings are currently flooded, as is the river. Aleya's need is for a slight respite—as is, if I'm honest, my need as well—so we've stopped over at Verinas Mart. We'll stock up here, rest a few days, look over our notes, and be on our way. I'm sure studying over the next few days will pass the time. We always did tend to forget all else when our heads were buried in an interesting matter of research.

The caravan was in use, so we're unfortunately camping in the parking lot, in a rented tent. I feel shame for my inadequacy to provide her better shelter, especially under the circumstances she finds herself in, but nothing else could be done.

It occurs to me that Gladio's birthday passed recently. Yet another year with no celebration. I'm unable to contact him at the present, besides. The mobile towers apparently were draining excess energy and so they only operate when absolutely necessary. Keeping them running smoothly with minimal output was Aleya's forte, and she managed it well while with them. I know for a fact she's already come up with a plan for getting them back online. However, we have no plans to return to Lestallum. I suppose by now they must miss her intelligence.

Tough luck, that.

10th of April, M.E. 759

Our research has yielded fascinating results regarding the missing Infernian. Though there are no clues yet as to his whereabouts, the tomb spoke of those that had been granted the ability of fire to protect the crystal. One such specifically was Crepera Lucius Caelum. As her ascension to the throne was controversial, there was little spoken of her in the books. However, this King spoke of her, as he was her descendant. Apparently, her father was one of the earliest of Kings, and had a special 'bond' of sorts with the Infernian. Soon, we shall have to travel to the Myrlwood to learn more.

However, our next stop will most likely be the Coernix station in Cauthess, as we intend to inspect the Tomb of the Just in Tunnels Glade.

It will be a long journey. Most likely we will walk the majority of the way. What I wouldn't give for a chocobo whistle. If, of course, there are any chocobo left roaming about. I haven't been able to contact the Chocobo post since we left Lestallum, and I certainly have not noticed any of our feathered friends since that time. It may be something worth investigating in the near future. I'd rather procure Aleya adequate means of transportation. She takes it all in stride, but I regret the strain this must be taking on her.

4th of May, M.E. 759

Ignis was growing frustrated and irritable, and it was his turn to go off the rails. Aleya noticed his foul mood, and requested repeatedly that he take a break. She began to tell him many times that she thought she knew the riddle of the writing, but it was scarcely out of her mouth when he started talking over her, repeating the words he ran his fingers over, drowning her out. She had the patience of a saint, until he gave her one final snap of his voice when she asked for the sixth time to rest while she took over.

"Leya, enough!" Ignis snapped. "I'm trying to concentrate. If you really want to help me get the job done, you'll let me work in silence!"

He realized what he had done at once. He didn't need eyes to feel how tense the air had become. The silence was so thick, he could have cut through it with a dull blade. The room suddenly seemed a bit more chilly. Aleya took a step backwards from his knelt position. "I'm sorry." Her tone of voice wasn't wounded, nor apologetic. It sounded more like a shrug. With that, she turned on her heel and crossed the room, to where they had left the supplies.

He sighed, mentally tormenting himself over losing his temper. It was unlike him to lose his cool, even under the most dire of circumstances. Why was it that he only seemed to forget his senses when he was among his dearest companions? The ones that supported him the most often ended up seeing the worst in him. It was no revelation that he wanted Leya to think exceptionally well of him; He realized he had marred his reputation in that respect. And of course, she had only been trying to help him. He had hurt her feelings.

Still, the ire had raised its ugly head, and he was having a hard time tamping it down. "I apologize, but you know what's at stake here. I must focus. I'm doing all I can to translate the individual letters, much less this babble they call words. It's infuriating!" He was surprised to hear her unzip her backpack and begin rifling through the contents. He huffed in exasperation. "Are you listening?"

"Yes," She answered, though it was curt.

"Then what are you doing?" Still, he couldn't hide his irritation. The least she could do when he was in a foul mood was to give him her full attention. He was accustomed to her always being at his side, eager to please. In this instance, she had decided to turn into Noctis—half-listening and totally unconcerned. Of course, she had always had been able to switch off her brilliance when it was called for. She had been known to indulge Noctis and Prompto in playing video games through the evening, for example.

"You aren't in the best of moods, so I'm going to stay out of your way."

He frowned. Was she going to begin to sulk like Noctis, as well? He put a hand on his hip, pretending to glare in her general direction.

She continued. "I'm going to roll out my bed, have a snack, and go to sleep."

"Right now?" He asked in disbelief.

"That's right. Right now."

"We've half a wall to translate!"

"You said you didn't want my help. So I'm going to rest up. And if you are half as smart as the Ignis Scientia I know, you'd join me."

He opened his mouth to object, but he heard the tear of a plastic wrapper, and a tantalizing scent wafted through the air. "Is that…?" No, it couldn't be!

"Arstip Caramel Waffle. Your favorite with black coffee, I believe."

"Where did you find it? How long have you been keeping it?"

"Does it matter? I was saving it for something special, but I guess I'll just break it out, now."

He tried to ignore the increased salivation in his mouth. He attempted to turn back to his work, but the desire got the best of him. "I haven't had one of those in years."

"They're hard to come by," She agreed, in a slightly flat tone. As her tone was never flat, it was obvious she was making a point to tease him. He knew what she was up to. She was trying to distract him away from the business at hand and his foul mood. She knew full well how he loved such a sweet; that it always seemed to turn him astoundingly pleasant. He wasn't ready to cheer up at the moment. But what more could he do? She was probably holding the last Arstip Caramel Waffle with paper-thin wafer layers on the planet. He hesitated, sniffing the air. It was nearly torture.

Her voice turned sweet and inviting. "Would you like some?"

He hesitated a moment before relenting. She might as well be holding an Ebony. "Damn. Fine. Perhaps a mere taste." He crossed the room and sat next to her, his angst and task momentarily delegated to the back burner. A man must keep up his energy, after all. "It's probably stale," he griped in a last feeble attempt at the last word.

She grinned and broke off a piece, extending the offering towards his mouth.

He took it in his teeth and chewed thoughtfully. He took his time, rolling it over his tongue and between his molars slowly. Being blind came with certain advantages, including heightened sense of taste. "Heavenly," he spoke, after he finally swallowed.

She nodded with delighted satisfaction. She knew he couldn't see the smirk on her face, but she also knew he was probably keenly aware of it. She patted his shoulder as she handed him the remainder of the sweet.

This humbled him immediately and he felt deep regret. "I apologize," he told her, more sincerely this time. "I should not have taken such a tone, especially with you, My Girl. I'm simply infuriated. None of this makes any sense. I cannot possibly decipher it. It is as if they wrote everything in code." He took another delightful bite. Bless her for understanding his moods and the remedies needed.

"It actually is in code," she answered, taking a small bite that he offered back to her.

"What do you mean?"

"Every third letter. Together, they form words and sentences from Ancient Solheimian."

He was stunned for a moment. Leave it to Aleya—who outclassed him in ancient languages—to figure out the riddle. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was trying to. You wouldn't let me. I tried to say I figured it out and I could write it down for you. I told you to take a break while I finished up. Any of this sound familiar?"

He sighed loud and long, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I thought you meant to distract me. Time is of the essence, and I…" He broke off. "The responsibility is mine to prepare for Noct's return. I suppose I was so involved in my work I…"

"It's our job, Iggy. You're not alone. I'm here to help you. You're doing everything. When do you rest?"

He tilted his head. "Not nearly enough."

"No wonder you're cranky," she teased him, nudging his shoulder with her chin playfully. "But I can fix that."

"Fix it?"

She got to her knees, hovering over him. "Lay down." With that, she took his shoulders to push him down slowly to the ground.

An intent and thrilling warning ran down his body for a moment. He wasn't sure what she was planning. He had a moment of resistance, and then conceded, dropping to his back obediently at her prodding. His fell to grasp her slightly above her knee as she knelt next to him. "Leya…" he murmured.

She lifted his head onto his pack and ran her hands through his hair at his temples soothingly for a few moments.

By now he was positively giddy, decidedly nervous. She had no idea how that particular display of affection toyed with his senses. It was difficult to honor her Galahdian traditions and maintain his self-control.

"You've got a headache. Just rest here for a while." And with that, she pulled a blanket out from her pack and threw it over him.

He tried to hide his disappointment upon discovering her intent. It certainly wasn't what he had thought. "How did you know I have a headache?" He couldn't remember complaining about it.

She laughed lightly. "I know you. That's all." One last pass over his forehead for good measure. "Get some sleep."

There was no point in resisting. He was incredibly tired, and his head did indeed ache. Though the ground was solid rock, the temperature cold, and the pack was a somewhat lumpy excuse for a pillow, his body gave him no choice. He was mentally and physically exhausted, and he was lured into a deep sleep.

When he woke, he immediately took in a scent of fresh coffee. It almost led him to believe he was still dreaming. However, he was soon sitting up, and a warm mug was passed into his hand. He inhaled, savoring the scent. "It can't be."

"Give it a try. I can't promise it's as good as Ebony, but…"

He sipped at it, savoring the kick of mint behind the nutty flavor the chocobeans. "How…?" He paused, lifting his tongue to his palate so that he might linger on the flavor. "How did you manage this?"

"Worked on it all night. Found the beans a week or so ago, and I found the mint growing near the farms on our way here. I hope the Just King understands that survival meant a small flame in his tomb. Oh, and you wouldn't imagine what Schier turmeric can do for a cup of…" She was interrupted as Ignis rolled to his elbow and pulled her towards him, kissing her sweetly. She tried to pull away. "Igs, stop it. I haven't brushed my teeth."

He grinned. "I don't care." He kissed her again, near her mouth, but she dodged a bit.

She gave a short and slightly bashful laugh. "What was that for? The coffee?"

"I was just thinking of how foolish I was for not requesting your number on the first evening we met. It took me far too long."

"It took you over five years."

"You were keeping count?"

"And still counting."

"How petty."

"You, Ignis Scientia, are a procrastinator."

"How dare you. Continue to speak to me in that manner and I shan't allow you any of this gourmet coffee."

She laughed. "Gourmet? Keep it. I've never liked mint in my coffee."

That surprised him. "You always drank it before. You never mentioned."

"You never asked."

The whole idea was humbling. Why hadn't he ever bothered to ask her what kind of coffee she preferred? He supposed he simply assumed she enjoyed the coffees he made for her; He had assumed she enjoyed it as she didn't say otherwise. "You never thought to complain?"

"There was nothing to complain about. I was with you. That was better than coffee."

He smiled warmly for a moment. Every day, she proved that he should love her. He took her hand, feigning seriousness. "There are few and rare things better than coffee."

She paused with a humming sound, as if she were thinking. "I could think of a few things," She replied in a tone of voice he had never heard before.

It gave him a bit of a start. Had he heard her correctly? Did she mean what he thought she had meant, or had he simply come under Prompto and Gladio's influence far too long? Would Aleya even joke in such an implicative manner? He felt himself beginning to flush slightly. "Leya…"

She put a notebook against his chest. "Here you go. I decrypted the text for you last night. Though, I admit it might take a few days for me to translate it into coherent sentences." She reached out and pinched his ear playfully. "Let's get going, huh?"

He could hear her standing, gathering up her things.

He sighed sadly. One thing was certain. He was in for a long battle. Self-discipline was going to be unusually and astoundingly difficult.