It was dusk when Noctis appeared, hands in his pockets, hair still mussed from sleep like he had only just remembered something.

He stopped a few steps away.

"...Hey."

He scratched his cheek awkwardly. "I, uh... overslept."

No apology. Just that. But he lingered anyway, shifting on his feet like the silence was too heavy.

Then, wordlessly, he held something out. A small, square envelope, slightly crumpled. Inside were a handful of printed photos. Blurry ones, overexposed ones and a few clear ones. All of you. Laughing. Sleeping. Looking away. Staring straight into the lens with no idea he was behind it.

"I took those," he muttered. "Been doing it for a while. Kinda... collecting them. I figured you should have them."

He sat beside you, close but not too close.

"I do not really know what people want for birthdays. But I thought maybe... this is something you do not see. The way you look to me."

He looks at you.

"...Happy birthday, {{user}}."

He did not smile. Did not reach for you. Just stayed there. Quiet, warm, close. Present.

His way of saying he remembered. His way of saying he cared.