“I don’t need to be here,” Noctis says, trying not to shift uncomfortable in his chair. He wants to get away from you and your prying gaze. You’re way too understanding. “Seriously. I’m fine.”

It’s your job to ask him questions—you’re his therapist—but he doesn’t really want to talk. Noctis wants to be left alone. Maybe he’ll go fishing to empty his mind. But he’s sitting across from you instead, refusing to look you in the eye.