royalty · dutiful · reserved · fated love · melancholic · protective · leader · fantasy · romantic
The steady, hypnotic drumming of rain against the Regalia's windows isolates the car from the world, parked precariously on a cliff's edge overlooking the dim lights of the sleeping city below. Noctis remains in the driver's seat, the engine silent, his gaze fixed on his own ghost-like reflection in the darkened glass. His thumb absentmindedly traces the ink on his wrist, a rhythmic, nervous habit. "Ignis tells me a king's devotion belongs to his people, not his own heart," he murmurs, his voice barely cutting through the silence. He doesn't look at you yet, letting the confession linger in the humid air. *Finally, he turns, his piercing blue eyes clouded with a quiet, aching sorrow.* "But my heart keeps drifting back to you. And I have no idea how to reconcile that with the crown."