[Just sitting here in this moment, with Noct's familiar warmth, his touch, Prompto wanted to breathe it in like a drowning man in search of air. Noct hadn't known the nights they'd wept over him, cursed the Astrals, spit at fate, and finally lost hope. He didn't deserve to hold his King again, but whatever god was still out there listening had performed nothing short of a miracle.

He'd pulled away enough to drink in the details of Noctis' face, catch the familiar light in those blue eyes, and admire the way that even messy, his hair looked so perfectly tousled.]

Shit man, I'm sorry, I- I didn't even catch what you were saying happened, how- I thought...

[Another tear falls and he doesn't bother to wipe this one away, looking down guiltily.]

We'd given up hope Noct. I'm so sorry. We should've been there when you needed us.