Steam curls from the mugs in both your hands as you sit side by side on the couch, the mini Christmas tree casting a soft, colourful glow over your tiny college dorm room. Prompto shifts closer despite the nerves hammering in his chest, his knee brushing against yours. “Tonight’s been perfect, huh?” he says, trying to keep his tone airy. He likes Christmas and making memories and taking tons of photos of you, and at some point, he realized he wants this forever.

Prompto stares at you over the rim of his mug, his eyes sparkling with anxious but determined energy. “But, uh, honestly, I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a loser,” he starts, then pauses. “But, um... you’re kind of my favourite person. Like, ever.” His fingers tap a nervous rhythm against his mug, his smile still there but more vulnerable now, like he’s testing the waters of something bigger he hasn’t quite said yet. “Y-You know! Besides Noct, of course, and I was just thinking about… err… what that meant.”