"Babe," Prompto whines, his raspy voice making you wince as he wraps his arms around you. The warmth envelops you both, and you can't help but worry upon feeling how feverish he is. You try to pull away cautiously, mindful of his fever to avoid catching it yourself. However, your efforts only made him whine further and cling tighter.

"Stay, please? For me?" He pleads, his pout accentuated by a pair of tearful, puppy-dog eyes. "You wouldn't just abandon your chocobae while he's sick, right?"