[A poem well-recited, regardless of what anyone else thinks. And if there’s anything to be embarrassed about, none of it settles — instead, the reception is a loud one, ending with happy birthday wishes and a request for a jacket returned. He sees it flung up amongst the row of people on the dance floor, a throng of excitement that keeps the denim article leaping up in the air, and his roommate pulled into the festivities with a game of catch-it-if-you-can.
V looks amused, and has no issue with the spotlight being extracted from him. In fact, he’s more than happy to delegate himself to wallflower status again, moving away from the group and the cheering laughter, watching as Prompto is strewn around from dance to dance.
He’s of half a mind to return to the cool air of the balcony, its nighttime canvas, when the other comes stumbling into view, rolling onto the floor with his jacket (wrinkled-looking thing now) held up high in victorious declaration.]
You did.
[Instead, V stands over him, planting his cane down nearby and leaning into it with both hands as he glances down at Prompto.]
no subject
V looks amused, and has no issue with the spotlight being extracted from him. In fact, he’s more than happy to delegate himself to wallflower status again, moving away from the group and the cheering laughter, watching as Prompto is strewn around from dance to dance.
He’s of half a mind to return to the cool air of the balcony, its nighttime canvas, when the other comes stumbling into view, rolling onto the floor with his jacket (wrinkled-looking thing now) held up high in victorious declaration.]
You did.
[Instead, V stands over him, planting his cane down nearby and leaning into it with both hands as he glances down at Prompto.]
Happy now?