(Ugh, I am dumb. Please don't read that other Part 6, it is an earlier version of the file. Mod, if you happen by, would you mind deleting that for me? Sorry. -_-;)
===
"We should probably go find a spot for the fireworks," said Noct, some four hours later, apropos of nothing.
Prompto had heard of fireworks, of course – cultured discussion in passing, when Chancellor Izunia had guests at the estate. Accordo, apparently, was renowned for its firework displays. He hadn't known that any were planned for tonight.
"There's fireworks?" Despite the drowsy contentment that had settled over Prompto like a blanket, he perked up at this, setting aside his now-empty plate. It had been a gift from Ignis, laden with another tart and a small assortment of mini-sandwiches. With its contents now in his stomach, Prompto felt... euphoric might be an overstatement, but not by much. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy.
At first he'd been on edge, worried that the Chancellor would spot him.
But the ball, Noct explained early on, stretched throughout twenty of the Citadel's chambers. The chances that Chancellor Izunia would happen to glimpse Prompto in a secluded corner, hidden mostly behind a chair that dwarfed him – much less recognize his scruffy MT in fancy party-wear and spectacles at a distance – seemed less and less likely as the night crept onward.
"Sure," said Noct. "Dad likes them. They're set to start at midnight, so we've only got like five minutes."
Prompto was just opening his mouth to ask why Noct's father had any bearing on the entertainment – was he responsible for some of the festivities, as Ignis apparently was? – when the final sentence caught up to his brain.
"Wait," said Prompto. "Midnight?"
He was on his feet in half an instant, looking for the door.
"What is it?" Noct asked him. "What's wrong?"
"I've got to go," said Prompto, spotting the exit and making toward it.
Noct kept pace, just to his right. "Already?" he said. "But what about the show?"
Prompto felt a pang of – something. Longing, maybe. Regret. Some combination of both. "I can't stay," he said. "I'm sorry. I wish –"
It crashed over him like a wave, so sudden it nearly floored him. Tomorrow morning, he would wake up in his cramped little cubby by the hearth. He'd fix breakfast for everyone but himself, and no one would listen to him ramble on about how he liked spotting shapes in the clouds, or how much he wanted to see a real, live chocobo. No one would tell him about the best fishing spot at Galdin Quay, or elbow him amiably in the side, like they were sharing a secret.
"I wish I could stay," he finished, miserably.
"Well," said Noct. "You'll be here next month, won't you? I'll see you then?"
"What's next month?" said Prompto.
"The second ball."
Hope pounded in like a summer storm at the sudden possibility that there could be another night like this. A month from now, he could have a few more precious hours of light and laughter, somewhere with incredible food and people who called him by his name.
There was nothing in the world that Prompto wanted more. But he needed the cooperation of the dream-creature, and he wasn't sure if it would – or could – bring him a second time.
"I'll try," he said, with all the sincerity he could muster. "I swear, I'll try."
Noct nodded, reluctantly – pulled up short, just beside the entrance. He schooled his face into something smooth and cordial, and he gave Prompto a nod more polite than familiar. But the smile, when it came, was far more intimate. "See you then."
Prompto flashed him a grin in return, pure sunlight. He waved once, wide and exuberant. Then he dashed out the door and down the side stairs – tripped, lost a shoe, and had to go back for it.
Less than a minute later, midnight struck, and Prompto shimmered and blurred at the edges, overcome by the same dizzying sensation from before. He closed his eyes, hard, and when he opened them, he stood in his grey work clothes, streaked with dirt, in the kitchen of Chancellor Izunia's estate.
In his hand, he clutched three lists, and every item on them had been crossed off.
Re: [Fill: 6/?] Noctis/Prompto Cinderella AU
===
"We should probably go find a spot for the fireworks," said Noct, some four hours later, apropos of nothing.
Prompto had heard of fireworks, of course – cultured discussion in passing, when Chancellor Izunia had guests at the estate. Accordo, apparently, was renowned for its firework displays. He hadn't known that any were planned for tonight.
"There's fireworks?" Despite the drowsy contentment that had settled over Prompto like a blanket, he perked up at this, setting aside his now-empty plate. It had been a gift from Ignis, laden with another tart and a small assortment of mini-sandwiches. With its contents now in his stomach, Prompto felt... euphoric might be an overstatement, but not by much. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy.
At first he'd been on edge, worried that the Chancellor would spot him.
But the ball, Noct explained early on, stretched throughout twenty of the Citadel's chambers. The chances that Chancellor Izunia would happen to glimpse Prompto in a secluded corner, hidden mostly behind a chair that dwarfed him – much less recognize his scruffy MT in fancy party-wear and spectacles at a distance – seemed less and less likely as the night crept onward.
"Sure," said Noct. "Dad likes them. They're set to start at midnight, so we've only got like five minutes."
Prompto was just opening his mouth to ask why Noct's father had any bearing on the entertainment – was he responsible for some of the festivities, as Ignis apparently was? – when the final sentence caught up to his brain.
"Wait," said Prompto. "Midnight?"
He was on his feet in half an instant, looking for the door.
"What is it?" Noct asked him. "What's wrong?"
"I've got to go," said Prompto, spotting the exit and making toward it.
Noct kept pace, just to his right. "Already?" he said. "But what about the show?"
Prompto felt a pang of – something. Longing, maybe. Regret. Some combination of both. "I can't stay," he said. "I'm sorry. I wish –"
It crashed over him like a wave, so sudden it nearly floored him. Tomorrow morning, he would wake up in his cramped little cubby by the hearth. He'd fix breakfast for everyone but himself, and no one would listen to him ramble on about how he liked spotting shapes in the clouds, or how much he wanted to see a real, live chocobo. No one would tell him about the best fishing spot at Galdin Quay, or elbow him amiably in the side, like they were sharing a secret.
"I wish I could stay," he finished, miserably.
"Well," said Noct. "You'll be here next month, won't you? I'll see you then?"
"What's next month?" said Prompto.
"The second ball."
Hope pounded in like a summer storm at the sudden possibility that there could be another night like this. A month from now, he could have a few more precious hours of light and laughter, somewhere with incredible food and people who called him by his name.
There was nothing in the world that Prompto wanted more. But he needed the cooperation of the dream-creature, and he wasn't sure if it would – or could – bring him a second time.
"I'll try," he said, with all the sincerity he could muster. "I swear, I'll try."
Noct nodded, reluctantly – pulled up short, just beside the entrance. He schooled his face into something smooth and cordial, and he gave Prompto a nod more polite than familiar. But the smile, when it came, was far more intimate. "See you then."
Prompto flashed him a grin in return, pure sunlight. He waved once, wide and exuberant. Then he dashed out the door and down the side stairs – tripped, lost a shoe, and had to go back for it.
Less than a minute later, midnight struck, and Prompto shimmered and blurred at the edges, overcome by the same dizzying sensation from before. He closed his eyes, hard, and when he opened them, he stood in his grey work clothes, streaked with dirt, in the kitchen of Chancellor Izunia's estate.
In his hand, he clutched three lists, and every item on them had been crossed off.