[these are the words that give him pause, ultimately. he sits here, seemingly sobered up as soon as her words register. a nice birthday dinner for you. it brings a lot of things up: growing up mostly by himself, raised by parents who were really nice people but who—for several reasons—were not around much at all. his birthdays were filled with apologetic calls and rushed well-wishes, later on just text messages, the emptiness of a home attempted to be cushioned by the gift of clothes and a camera and whatever other fancy prompto had growing up.]
[celebrating his birthday like this, with a party so loud and so big he couldn't really discern who knew him and who didn't, is so cheap in comparison to the value of having a nice birthday dinner.]
Can we have that? Please?
[when the words register, his heart's racing and he feels it urgent to ask for it—not quite fathoming that it's already an offer for something to happen.]
[his foster parents were good people, they tried their best, but there were things that prompto—at age 21—wishes he had had, as a child.]
no subject
[celebrating his birthday like this, with a party so loud and so big he couldn't really discern who knew him and who didn't, is so cheap in comparison to the value of having a nice birthday dinner.]
Can we have that? Please?
[when the words register, his heart's racing and he feels it urgent to ask for it—not quite fathoming that it's already an offer for something to happen.]
[his foster parents were good people, they tried their best, but there were things that prompto—at age 21—wishes he had had, as a child.]