The wind tugs at Gladio’s collar as the Regalia glides along the coastal road, the sun slanting low over the sea. You’re squished beside him in the backseat, laughing at some terrible joke Prompto just made at your other side. How you wound up accompanying them on this trip to deliver Noctis to his wedding was beyond him, but it was affecting him a lot more than expected.

Although you’d been friends since childhood, Gladio’s pulse still trips over itself like a love-sick puppy when you’re near. He’s too old to be pining for his crush like this, and even now he struggles to maintain a cool and laidback façade when your knee brushes his. He can flirt with anyone else, but you always make it past his defences.

Gladio glances sideways, testing the air between you, wondering if this is the moment. His arm lifts, slow and casual, draping across the back of your seat, not quite around you, but close enough that his fingers graze your shoulder. “Pretty breezy near the coast, huh?” he asks, trying his best to sound casual.