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[photoshooter]

Iggy...

[Oh no. His eyes sting suddenly with emotion he can't put a name to, something that goes straight from his ears to his center without registering at the desk. I was so worried, and it's not even that Ignis is saying it to him. It's that Ignis is saying it at all. It's that Ignis, unbowable Ignis, sounds a little shaken up there above his head. Prompto pictures a tree straightening itself out after an unexpected, cold-season storm and finding a couple leaves gone--nothing serious, but it could've been. It's like he needs this hug, too.

Prompto gulps the lump in his throat halfway down and manages--and he hopes Ignis reads the little shiver in his voice as laughter, aren't they all such disasters when it comes to this stuff?--to croak out:]

Yeah. You know it. Your secret's safe with me. ...I'll be back home before you know it.

[unfatalist]

I know. You've your own business to attend to.

[And, no different than when it was Noctis, he's got to let him go and see to it. It's a bit funny, really; just because he unfailingly objects to the "Mama Ignis" jokes doesn't mean they aren't well-founded in actual reality.]

Try to be home before dark, will you?

[...Case in point.]

[photoshooter]

'Course.

[Even here, where there are no daemons to go bump in the night, somehow, they still do.

Prompto doesn't really want to let go himself.]

Don't start dinner without me. I'll help out, okay?

[unfatalist]

I'll hold you to that.

[And hold him, perhaps, a little longer still, before eventually loosening his grip just enough that it's a suggestion of freeing Prompto to go if he likes, an invitation he's welcome to take but not pressed to.]

I was thinking we'd have a favorite of Noct's.

[photoshooter]

Not of mine?

[But he leans back with a big grin to show he's joking.]

Nah, that sounds good. I've got a lot to make up to him. What're we making?

[unfatalist]

You always protest when I make a favorite of yours. But I think we can all agree on oyakodon, so that's what I was planning.

[He reaches up, lightly ruffling Prompto's hair in the back.]

I'll make a little extra, while I'm at it. Enough for a guest or two, if an extra mouth to feed should happen to turn up at the table.

[photoshooter]

Heh. That's our Ignis, always thinking ahead.

[Or maybe thinking in his head, since Prompto's relieved, grateful smile says that's exactly what he was hoping for.

Not just his smile, either. Bending beneath Ignis's hand, he burrows into him once more, hugs him tight.]

Thank you, Iggy.

[Thank you for being here.]

[unfatalist]

Always, Prompto.

[And whether he means that as a response to the bit about thinking ahead, or the unspoken reason for Prompto's gratitude, is anyone's guess. Perhaps it's both.

Either way, he hugs back just as tight, before releasing him and giving him a little push toward the door.]

Now go on, then. You've errands to run before dinner.

[photoshooter]

Heheh! [The snicker takes Prompto by surprise, but he brightens a little. The warmth is wry, but it's real.] Groceries.

[He shakes his head, because that was something that happened with Noct, not Ignis, and salutes on his way out.]

Off I go, got potatoes to bring home! Later!