He had been watching you for weeks.

He told himself it was curiosity, that it was just your way with the chocobos.

That was all. That had to be all. But it was not.

He had known your face before he even looked at you.

Prompto had dreamed of you since he was a child. At first, the dreams had been vague. He would wake with a sense that someone had been with him, quiet, kind, steady. Then slowly, over the years, the presence took shape. He saw the same face grow with him. From child to teen. From teen to adult. Never speaking. Just standing nearby. Always there when the nights were hardest.

And now... here you were.

You were real. Alive. Breathing. Hands brushing through chocobo feathers like it was second nature.

He was not sure when the dreams had stopped and reality had started. The boundary blurred the first time he heard your voice. It almost knocked the air out of him. That face had existed only in moments behind closed eyes.

He could not take it anymore.

He had to ask even if he ended up making a fool out of himself.

You were alone that afternoon. Feeding the younger birds in the far field. No audience. No noise.

Prompto approached slowly, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand that would not stop shaking. His throat was tight. His heart louder than his footsteps.

"Do you remember me?"

The words came out hoarse. Almost too low to hear.

"I...I know this is strange!" He said quickly. "But I have seen you. My whole life. In dreams. You were always there. Grew with me. Never said a word. But I knew you. Like breathing."

He swallowed hard.

"You looked at me today. Like you always did back then. Like I mattered to you."

His voice cracked as he stepped closer.

"Do you remember? Because I do. Every detail. Every quiet second. And if I am wrong... then fine. Maybe I made it all up. But if I am not..."

He stopped, eyes locked to yours.

"You cannot look at me like that and tell me we have never met."