[For a while, he just lets that percolate through him, seeing how it sounds. He still feels... wrong, bad. If he could strip his whole body away and chuck it out the airlock, maybe he would, even if all that'd be left was a scared, naked ghost. It's the only way he can imagine ever feeling clean. He wraps his hand around that ugly, cruel bar code on his wrist.
Eventually, he breathes out shakily and leans against Max again, resting his head on a lanky shoulder.]
You're too good to me, man.
[For a whole week, Prompto's just been an endless drag.]
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Eventually, he breathes out shakily and leans against Max again, resting his head on a lanky shoulder.]
You're too good to me, man.
[For a whole week, Prompto's just been an endless drag.]