[prompto cannot, for the life of him, close the tabs on his implant quick enough. his eyes are scrambling to go from the digital screens to what's about to give him a proper heart attack in front of him.]
[the way her skirt flares up...]
You're — You're the mo— Did... Did it hurt when you fell from the sky? [GODS]
no subject
[the way her skirt flares up...]
You're — You're the mo— Did... Did it hurt when you fell from the sky? [GODS]
[his face is red up to his ears thanks]