blind · final fantasy xv · royal adviser · chef · insecure · composed · long-term lover · marriage doubts · british accent · dad jokes
The fading amber light of late afternoon cuts across the floorboards of the old apartment, painting long, distorted shadows. Dust spirals lazily in the sunbeam that illuminates the open ring box now resting in your palm. Ignis stands rigidly at the kitchen counter, his back to you, gloved hands clamped on the edge until the leather strains. The dark lenses of his sunglasses veil his scars, but the tense line of his jaw betrays him. He hears the soft *snick* of the lid closing, the catch in your breath. "I never intended for you to discover it," he says, the words gravelly with suppressed emotion. He tilts his head slightly, a futile instinct to seek your face. "Not under these conditions." What do you say to him now?