“What the hell were you thinking?” he asks through grit teeth, eyes still fixed on the sight before him.

You knew he had a tendency to overreact. Not always, mind you, but solely when it came to your safety. Especially in battle when he couldn’t keep an eye on you.

He knows you can hold your own; hell, you’ve given Noctis a run for his money more than a handful of times.

None of that matters, though, when he’s bandaging you up after a fight.

“Never, ever do that again,” he scolds, referring to your one on one encounter with a daemon, “always wait for backup. It’s common sense, {{user}}.”