[If V allowed himself to relate to this more closely, someone gone missing leaving an ache, he could. (He thinks of a burning house, long blonde hair, his life changed forever.) But there are some recollections that sting to touch, and he doesn't know Prompto well enough to willingly throw himself into that mire.

He has no real advice, then. He has no power to bring anyone back, and neither does Prompto, so the reply is easy enough to conjure up.]

Then you can lie there and let it hurt, or push through it. Maybe even a little bit of both — it isn't always one or the other.

[He crosses over to a small armchair shoved into the corner of the room, not terribly far from the couch. Sinking into it, V lets his cane rest next to him.]

Take the time you need. But eventually you’ll have to get back up again. Everyone will ask where you've been.

[The curse of an extrovert.]