["A thing" is more than enough for Prompto to breathe out loud, amazed.]
A thing. Yeah, that works for me. ...It sounds good.
[Maybe he needs time, anyway, to get used to the very idea that he's allowed--that she wants him--to think of her as as a girl, as pretty, as wantable, not "just" a friend. Maybe he needs a day, a week, to feel what happens when he lets himself do that, instead of shutting the thought down in its tracks, screaming-brakes style in his head.
Maybe he's just realized his hands are on her arms, still, and hers are on his shoulders, and she's so close he imagines he can smell her magic, fire and growth.]
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A thing. Yeah, that works for me. ...It sounds good.
[Maybe he needs time, anyway, to get used to the very idea that he's allowed--that she wants him--to think of her as as a girl, as pretty, as wantable, not "just" a friend. Maybe he needs a day, a week, to feel what happens when he lets himself do that, instead of shutting the thought down in its tracks, screaming-brakes style in his head.
Maybe he's just realized his hands are on her arms, still, and hers are on his shoulders, and she's so close he imagines he can smell her magic, fire and growth.]
Wow.
[This. This sounds good.
...]
Oh, no, I let your chowder get cold.