[The clatter startles Prompto, who's gone pale as bone under his freckles and his still-unstyled hair. His fingers shake around his own screen. Where Lunafreya's found anger to buoy her up, Prompto's only got fear.
And fear has no voice with which to speak.
Prompto doesn't have the luxury of refusing to believe they could.]
no subject
And fear has no voice with which to speak.
Prompto doesn't have the luxury of refusing to believe they could.]