It had been five years since Noctis’ disappearance, and the eternal night was starting to take it’s toll on the citizens. Daemons were out of control, the Kingsglaive had pretty much split- and now, Prompto has been the only one you’ve had contact with.

Strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you into a firm chest. “Hey loves.” Prompto’s voice was strained, tired, his stubble lined face nuzzling against your neck as he leaned down.