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The first time he met his royal highness Noctis Lucis Caelum, was when the prince strolled through the school gates, body slouched and hands in pockets.
He'd created a scene with just the way he walked, and Prompto was jealous. Jealous of the attention he'd been given, jealous that no one ever gave him as much as a fleeting glance when they'd passed him by. Said prince ended up being in the same class with him though, just a seat in front of him right beside the school window.
Something panged in his chest, where he'd brought his hand up to cup over it. It was sort of a dull ache-- like it was supposed to be something that he had to remember, but it was gone before he could really reach out to hold onto it.
The sky was bright blue when they left, and he stuck a hand out of the car to feel the breeze, relishing the present. If he were to be honest, he was afraid of what the future might hold, but he had a duty to fulfil. He was a companion with little wonders of the outside world, nevertheless, ever ready by his side.
The Prince was always having lunch alone, and if he was ever mindful of the small commotions that he made from the gossip groups that scattered throughout the class as well as the students stuck to the window, well, he never said anything. Prompto felt bad; he wanted some attention, to be noticed, but, not like this. It was akin to stalking, and it was annoying, like those bugs who would fly around you endlessly.
So Prompto took it into his stride and reached out, patting the Prince twice on the back. He turned, a hand holding the bento box lid. He caught a glimpse at the lunch that was on the prince table, and couldn't help but exclaim.
"Hey, I'm Prom-- WHOA! Now that's what I call lunch fit for a king!"
There was a look that passed through his royal highness' face, and it was gone as soon as he came. Prompto though, with a knack of noticing such behaviours, felt a heavier pang, replaced by guilt, crawling in his insides and pulling at his gut. Huh, he blamed, maybe no mentioning or princes and ranks when actually being around the prince.
There was a heavy silence that enveloped all of them; he couldn't remember how many of them were there in his room, but he knew there was more than just two of them. All had grim looks on their faces, one that not even his usual clowning would diffuse the tension. His eyes were trained at him from across the room, his milky white skin, midnight blue eyes black hair, standing still but still emitting an aura of authority. He'd said something, but all words fell death on Prompto's ears as if the world had been muted around him.
It's been a few weeks since he'd made the first move into befriending the prince, and they were currently at the arcade, playing some kind of shooting game against zombies. Prompto had long lost — something he was actually surprised over — and was egging the prince on, giving him motivation from the sidelines as he manoeuvred through the undead.
The trip to the arcade and ice creams that followed after had become a routine to the duo, Prompto noticing the prince would join him almost all of the days in the week as though there wasn't the weight of the whole city on his shoulders. Prompto knew better than to worry, and knew best than to ask. He'd engraved the dark look that passed the prince's face when he'd mentioned about ranks and statuses the first time, and he'd gladly do anything within his power for the prince not to have that look etched in his features.
An elbow nudged onto his ribcage pulled him out of his reverie, his eyes finding the prince scrunching his features with the determination to get Prompto's attention back. He was honoured, right into his bones, that the one gaining attention was fighting for his attention, but his opened mouth for retaliation stopped short when a shadow befell on them.
"Noct," the voice of the shadow boomed, and if Prompto didn't turn around, he'd pinned that voice for Bahamut's if he ever had a human form. "You're missing training. Again." A Guy with Beefy arms, complete with a scar running down the left side of his face, deadpanned. If Prompto wished for a death sentence, he'd fight for the prince's stead. But he didn't.
Noctis groaned, like Beefy Arms Guy wouldn't really grab and smack him through the pavement head first, and threw — literally threw — his school briefcase towards him. To Prompto's utter state of shock, Beefy Arm Guy didn't even lay a finger onto Noctis, instead catching his schoolbag, grunting at idiot spoiled bratty prince(s) and their behaviour.
"See you tomorrow, Prom," Noctis waved without turning around, before getting into the car that Prompto didn't notice had been parked directly beside them, and it took a lot from him to close his mouth and offer a small wave himself. Beefy Arm Guy cast a glance at him, expression unchanged, before settling into the passenger side of the car before the car drove off.
The city, if not for the state of chaos, had been such a beautiful sight, with historical white buildings and flowers blooming everywhere. Hell, the city floated on water, and he'd wished that whatever's causing the chaos to the city had been a tad bit nicer, so at least some of the architectural forms would be left untouched. There was a raging dragon-like creature in the centre of the ocean, throwing whatever's mobile around the sea that barricaded the whole city, and someone battling it. There was a flash of black and glowing blue weapons, too fast for Prompto's eye to make out but surely fighting against the dragon. His job was done, and he was supposed to go to the altar — he didn't know which — before he saw it.
A huge, rectangular ship landed near onto the protruding end of the city, right where a person's lying on it. Said person, a girl, had been struggling to stay upright when someone alighted from the ship, slowing walking towards her. Another mixture of violet-red hair and the kind of walk you'd ever see in someone with all the time in the world, the figure bent down on one knee before drawing a hand back. The girl jerked and stilled before Prompto could realise what had happened, and the stranger moved away to reveal said girl clutching her stomach.
She's dead, she's dead she'sdeadshe'sdeadshe'sdead—
Two weeks after the incident with Beefy Arm Guy, whose, in a passing moment, Noctis had mentioned that his name was Gladio, Prompto woke up to a midweek morning with his body feeling too cold and rivulets of sweat cascading down his back. He felt strange yet all too familiar, too hot yet too cold at the same time, groaning as his brain registered the symptoms as fever. Checking the time, he replied to Noctis's fleeting notifications with — not coming to school today, having a fever — as he stuffed the guilty feeling of skipping school into the trenches of his gut with the intention of worrying about it later. Not really having enough energy for a shower, he buried himself underneath his covers, intending to wait the fever out.
He woke up to the doorbell ringing endlessly. He'd cursed at whoever's at the other side of the door for not letting him sleep, damn it, he was having a fever. Head all too light and body staggering, he finally reached the cold doorknob and swung the door open.
The prince, still clad in his school uniform, slipped off his shoes and entered Prompto's apartment like it was his(well, not that this whole plot of land stretching from the Citadel to the Wall and beyond is his father's, but nevermind that), and made himself at home on his couch. Prompto was half thankful Noctis didn't mention anything about the mess in the apartment.
Only meeting his eyes a few moments later, the prince gave him a half-hearted shrug, finally shedding off his jacket.
"What? You said you were sick." His tone was monotonous, but Prompto caught the underlying concern the prince tried to hide.
"I'm the one who's sick, not you!"
"Yeah well, friends don't let friends get sick alone without anyone to care for." The offhanded comment stunned Prompto, like the Prince had actually thought about him well enough to be friends. Nevermind that, for Noctis to know the location to his apartment and the whereabouts of his parents(which was little to never at home) had Prompto reeling. Sure, it'd be stupid not to run a background check on every one of the prince's friends, but the fact that Noctis remembered brought the ache to Prompto's chest, the one he had when he initially met Noctis.
When he came to, he was standing atop of a speeding train, gun aimed at the figure. The figure had that same violet-red hair; and all of a sudden he remembered, the help through the blockade, the scene on the city above the waters, the girl he killed, and—
He gritted his teeth as the grip around his gun grew tighter, ready to fire. The smallest of smirks grew onto the figure's face, hands up in surrender, but expression filled with mocking. He knew he should've fired there and then without hesitation, but something in him was stopping him from pulling the trigger.
His momentum was disrupted by a flash of blinding blue light and the pain that hit his middle, before losing his balance and toppling over the roof of the train. He tried to scream, but the sounds that came out of his mouth were muted, and the last thing he caught were traces of milky white skin and midnight blue eyes.
Something about hanging out with the prince, came with hanging out with his entourage. A few months back, meeting Gladio had been a positively frightening part of his life, and meeting Ignis had been borderline nervewracking. Ignis was scarier than Gladio, not by imposing size, but with the disapproving stare or the lack of emotions that he gives off. Simultaneously, said advisor could skin you alive and make you apologise for it in one look.
On rare occasions, Prompto had been given permission to visit Noctis in his apartment. On the rarer occasion, Ignis had popped by the apartment to deliver off some notes containing the city's development and wellbeing, stopping to make dinner for all of them. Prompto had long passed the first impression stage with Ignis, slowly coming to know the layers underneath the walls that the advisor had set up. On that note, the rarest of occasions, Gladio, with the reason of who knows what, had stopped by Noctis's apartment. The visit surprised not only Prompto, but Noctis as well, which set them both on high alert.
"Relax," Gladio drawled. "Dad told me to spend time with Noctis and his new friend."
Confusion set them both off, but then it clicked. If Prompto was going to revolve his life around Noctis, then he had to start getting Ignis and Gladio involved as well. Both of them are tied directly to the prince, and it's almost kind of like a buy-one-get-two-free, even if it means intimidating freebies.
"It's fine," Prompto shrugged. "Gotta get used to it sooner or later. I mean, Noct isn't some any normal guy."
Noctis groaned as Gladio grinned, giving his back a hard pat. "Now that's what I like to hear."
Chained. That was what they did to him when they found him in the midst of a snowstorm, chained to this body restraint, one on each ankle, one on each arm, and one on his middle. He was hung, arms spread apart and above him, like some kind of ragdoll. It was a waiting game, one too long, an endless cycle of sleeping and waking and restraining unsuccessfully against the chains. The trust he had in them was vanishing like a lit candle, and he'd feared they would never come for him, forever being kept in this chamber.
All too soon, the door at the other end beeped open, and flashlights blinded his sight. There was a chorus of footsteps, slowly tapering closer and closer towards him, light shining brighter, then—
He was released, out of the chains and into someone's arms. Brought down gently, he struggled to breathe and wrap his brain around the fact that he'd been freed, before seeing familiar white milky skin and midnight blue eyes.
In a heartbeat, he knew that the guy had been worrying about him, setting off to find him as soon as he was separated. All that matters now, was that he's alive.
He was alive, and he was safe.
September came and went, and when Prompto came to, it had been October 25th. School passed by in a blur, and Noctis had a council meeting he could not escape, with the car and Ignis waiting by the school gate. He had tried to sneak past, but Ignis, eyes ever sharp, pushed up his glasses to where Prompto could swear a glint came off and called Noctis's name in a tone that left no arguments. Thankfully, at the time, gossips about the prince behind his back had dissipated into thin air, but that doesn't stop a few glances being thrown into his way.
Slightly apologetic, Noctis bid him farewell and was sped away straight to the direction of the Citadel, leaving Prompto alone with his trudge back home.
His birthday passed uneventfully, and Prompto knew better than to sulk, but he couldn't help it. He'd been looking forward to spending the evening with Noctis, a friend he'd made and stuck through with him for almost a year, but Noctis couldn't make it. Closing his eyes, he'd reminded himself over and over again that Noctis was a prince and had other more important things to worry about than his friend's birthday, and slinked under the covers.
At 23:50 sharp, the doorbell rang, and Prompto smiled to himself. At least, the elderly lady two floors down had never forgotten his birthday, climbing two flights of stairs up to Prompto's apartment to give him a home cooked meal and a kiss to both cheeks. Prompto had helped the lady countless of times, ranging from grocery bag assists to helping her up the stairs(she didn't trust the lift), and the lady had made a promise to never forget his birthday.
Imagine his surprise when it was Noctis instead, bundled up with a scarf and beanie and holding an unevenly wrapped rectangular shaped box. Noctis's face was red and puffy like he'd been running, raising a brow at Prompto's gawking. "Not gonna invite me in?"
Prompto suppressed a laugh. "So now you're going to ask if I'm gonna let you in or not?" Stepping aside, he'd let the prince aim for his ribs.
"Shut up."
When cans of sodas littered the table and it was just them chilling on the couch, Noct elbowed him once more. "Open the present."
Prompto does, and after laughing at the wrapping attempt(hey, A for Effort!), his jaw slacked at the box in front of him.
Inside was something he'd never thought of owning. It was a camera, a full-blown, high-quality camera that must've cost Noct thousands, at least. Prompto still has savings inside his wardrobe inside a piggy bank for the exact same camera, scraping off monthly expenses and part-time jobs until there was enough for it.
When he met Noctis's eyes, Noctis averted them, looking elsewhere. "Mentioned that you'd wanted it back then," he murmured. "It was... It was this model, wasn't it? The one you wanted."
Prompto would've hugged him there and then, but he stopped himself. Instead, he opted for a smile, hugging the present dearly to his chest. The pang that followed after was stronger and stayed longer, but he wouldn't let it disrupt what he thought' would be the best birthday he'd celebrated as yet.
Fire. Everything was fire, flames licking all around them, barricading their escape. The Infernian, as they called, his enemy, their enemy, sitting on top of a throne made of bones, looked bored, as if he was waiting for an attack.
He'd cocked his gun and waited for a signal, before running out and making an opening for the guy. He dodged fire after fire, never stopped shooting, determined to defeat this monster and taking back what's theirs.
In all fairness, he'd felt bad for the Infernian, having been slain and laid to rest in the Rock of Ravatogh, then being reincarnated against his will and infected with the scourge. If anything, it fueled his decision into slaying the beast and laying it to hopefully an eternal rest once more The fight had been long and tedious, and the guy already had summoned another being tied to the covenant, but it still wasn't enough to defeat him.
He couldn't recall how many times he'd dropped down from the battle — one time he'd swore he'd lost consciousness and woke up to the guy pressing a feather to his chest — but he still continued on fighting. He had to give the equal, if not more, amount of effort as the other guys, determined to claim victory over what's theirs. He'd heard a roar; an indication that the monster was on his last legs, stopping dead in his tracks as the guy's eyes glowed a purplish hue once more.
Prompto startled.
He remembered. He remembered everything now, and suddenly, the dull ache in his chest that's been in him for the past year had made sense. The dreams, from travelling to forging covenants to last goodbyes, those were his memories, memories from his past life. He didn't know he would remember it all back, but he did, now.
He grabbed his wallet and phone and bolted out the door, slamming it shut behind him. The run towards Noctis's apartment burned his legs, but his determined mind and burning passion wanted to know. He'd wanted to know. He'd wanted to know, after all this time, after all these years, how many years has it been--
He just wanted to know if Noctis remembers.
Nodding his hello through the crownsguard stationed outside Noctis's apartment, he rushed inside, cursing when the lift stalled his time in getting an answer.
The door opened a few seconds after his incessant knocking, Noctis in view, hair sticking up in all places and a blanket wrapped around himself.
"Noct!" Prompto screamed and tackled the prince, the guy, tangling them in a huge mess of limbs and cover. Noctis had groaned, a hair inch away from grumbling at him, but the excited feeling inside of him burned so much it hurt. "Noct, do you remember?"
"Huh?" was all Noctis could supply.
"The trip! Everything -- we explored Lucis, remember? We went from exploring Lucis to forging covenants with the Astrals, to Altissia, and then Gralea, and also taking back what's ours! Noct, do you remember?"
It was deathly quiet then, and Prompto's heart dropped, because of course, Noctis wouldn't remember, those are memories from Prompto himself—
A hand snaked around his middle, pulling him to a hug. "I'm glad you remembered, Prom. It's been lonely, having these memories for a while."
And Prompto's heartbeat picked up twice the speed. "Yeah, I'm glad I did, too."