[there's— some of that feeling which pushes through the empathy bond, journeying from his hand to his chest, alight in the blue glow. the sadness that comes from harboring those one holds close even if they're gone.]
[it might be a little too much for prompto, who— slightly abruptly —takes his hand back. he uses it to rub at his eyes, a helplessly loud sniffle as he picks up his slouch and straightens his back.]
It's suspicious if our chest are all glow-y and stuff.
[he frowns; he's not used to physical touch nor comfort, and he's obviously very paranoid about the whole being displaced situation. sure has been here for a couple of months.]
Sorry. [is what's muttered, instead, biting down the inside of his cheek.] It's not like they're dead. I need to get a grip.
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Date: 2019-05-12 04:00 am (UTC)[it might be a little too much for prompto, who— slightly abruptly —takes his hand back. he uses it to rub at his eyes, a helplessly loud sniffle as he picks up his slouch and straightens his back.]
It's suspicious if our chest are all glow-y and stuff.
[he frowns; he's not used to physical touch nor comfort, and he's obviously very paranoid about the whole being displaced situation. sure has been here for a couple of months.]
Sorry. [is what's muttered, instead, biting down the inside of his cheek.] It's not like they're dead. I need to get a grip.