[ There's logic in Connor's response, yes, but even more than that, there's the delivery, given so matter-of-factly that it leaves Prompto wondering why he even questioned any of it to begin with. It is, of course, because his fears don't come from a purely logical place, but when his fears and doubts have been ingrained in him since before he can remember, even a solid year or so of putting self-acceptance into practice isn't easy. Slowly, surely, he untangles himself, with the help of his friends, and rearranges his perception of himself. Most of the time, he's fine, but gods, some days...it's still hard as hell, to reflect on what he came from, and ask himself how he could possibly deserve this life that he's found, that he was so impossibly gifted, out of millions of others just like him. Any of them could be in his place right now, but he is the one who's here.
But it really is just that simple, isn't it? He's not a Magitek Trooper. He's human, and he's made something of his life. He's done his best, despite where he came from, despite his shortcomings. When Connor puts it so plainly like that, how could he possibly think otherwise?
It's elegant in its simplicity, and Prompto has to dip his head down and blink hard and fast against the tears that begin to build in his eyes. ]
It's all about how I choose to be, huh? [ He knows that. He's known that for some time. But the reassurance is still so important for him to hear, yet again, from a trusted friend.
A quiet moment passes, before Prompto at last looks up again, meeting Connor's gaze across the table. ]
It's all about how we choose to be.
[ Because that doesn't just apply to him. Connor, too. ]
[His words are affecting, but are they affecting in the way he wants them to be? Connor can see the glisten of tears in the other's eyes, even as he drops his head down to hide them. The small changes in breathing and tension across his body, that only he can notice because he was designed to. He worries, maybe, that he might've upset Prompto, until the young man speaks up.
It's all about how we choose to be.
Connor inhales even though he doesn't need the air, knowing the implication.]
...You've been given the choice to be who you want, Prompto. That's a precious opportunity, and one that you can't waste. All right?
[What's unspoken is still clear: Connor doesn't consider him quite in the same category. But he'll cheer Prompto on, as long and as much as he needs it.]
[ A moment passes, where yes, he thinks just that — that the said should be said for Connor, but he has a feeling his friend already knows what he thinks on that front. Connor has the choice to be who he wants to be, too, but if he's not ready for it yet, then Prompto won't push him. He has faith Connor will come into his own eventually, and when he does, Prompto will be there, to do whatever he wants to because he chose to do it.
A low exhale, and then he finds his smile again, far less strained than it was a few moments ago. ]
Right. Don't let me forget it, will you? [ He reaches a hand across the table to nudge Connor in the shoulder. ] Thanks, Conno.
[ Their social rank has leveled up, but the dumb nickname remains. ]
[Equal parts glad to have helped, and for the conversation to have moved on, Connor matches the grin given to him. His own body language drains of the smallest, barely-there signs of tension, simply content with having aided Prompto.]
It’s Connor, Prompto.
[The nickname sticks — will forever stick, it seems — but for some reason, the android doesn’t seem to mind.]
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But it really is just that simple, isn't it? He's not a Magitek Trooper. He's human, and he's made something of his life. He's done his best, despite where he came from, despite his shortcomings. When Connor puts it so plainly like that, how could he possibly think otherwise?
It's elegant in its simplicity, and Prompto has to dip his head down and blink hard and fast against the tears that begin to build in his eyes. ]
It's all about how I choose to be, huh? [ He knows that. He's known that for some time. But the reassurance is still so important for him to hear, yet again, from a trusted friend.
A quiet moment passes, before Prompto at last looks up again, meeting Connor's gaze across the table. ]
It's all about how we choose to be.
[ Because that doesn't just apply to him. Connor, too. ]
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It's all about how we choose to be.
Connor inhales even though he doesn't need the air, knowing the implication.]
...You've been given the choice to be who you want, Prompto. That's a precious opportunity, and one that you can't waste. All right?
[What's unspoken is still clear: Connor doesn't consider him quite in the same category. But he'll cheer Prompto on, as long and as much as he needs it.]
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A low exhale, and then he finds his smile again, far less strained than it was a few moments ago. ]
Right. Don't let me forget it, will you? [ He reaches a hand across the table to nudge Connor in the shoulder. ] Thanks, Conno.
[ Their social rank has leveled up, but the dumb nickname remains. ]
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It’s Connor, Prompto.
[The nickname sticks — will forever stick, it seems — but for some reason, the android doesn’t seem to mind.]
And don’t worry, I won’t.
[Won’t let him forget it.]