[Definitely didn't expect that question. His brows furrow, puzzling over it; his answer does not come immediately. He's seen a lot of beautiful things in his travels, but it's not often he sits down to name them. How to answer? Maybe something specific?]
...I remember... one of the first nights in Galdin Quay, this little beach resort we stopped at, we had to camp out because we didn't have the money for a hotel. Gladio woke me up at the crack of dawn so we could train. And don't get me wrong, I hate mornings, but... something about the sun on the beach really got me. I didn't get to see that kind of stuff back home. The city and the barrier always messed with the light, if you could even see it between all the skyscrapers.
[More than that- it'd been the last day he'd woken up satisfied, happy, genuinely without care aside from the whimsies of the day. The morning that followed they gotten the news about home, about the treaty, about his father. That was the day his easygoing roadtrip towards an arranged marriage had shifted instead to a journey of fate, gods, war, revenge. He woke a prince and by nightfall was titled a king, something he hadn't wanted and wasn't ready for. Peace became such a rare commodity, the nights became longer, and eventually even he, who hates mornings, could wake up and find the sun still rising, the last of the daemons descending back into the earth. He'd see the sky, and he'd remember that day again. The last day he'd been free.
He closes his eyes for a long moment, trying to hold on to that feeling, and when he opens them again his expression is softer, nostalgic and longing.]
There, though? The whole ocean looked like it was on fire. It was so cool.
[And it was beautiful. It was the most beautiful sunrise he'd ever seen.]
no subject
[Definitely didn't expect that question. His brows furrow, puzzling over it; his answer does not come immediately. He's seen a lot of beautiful things in his travels, but it's not often he sits down to name them. How to answer? Maybe something specific?]
...I remember... one of the first nights in Galdin Quay, this little beach resort we stopped at, we had to camp out because we didn't have the money for a hotel. Gladio woke me up at the crack of dawn so we could train. And don't get me wrong, I hate mornings, but... something about the sun on the beach really got me. I didn't get to see that kind of stuff back home. The city and the barrier always messed with the light, if you could even see it between all the skyscrapers.
[More than that- it'd been the last day he'd woken up satisfied, happy, genuinely without care aside from the whimsies of the day. The morning that followed they gotten the news about home, about the treaty, about his father. That was the day his easygoing roadtrip towards an arranged marriage had shifted instead to a journey of fate, gods, war, revenge. He woke a prince and by nightfall was titled a king, something he hadn't wanted and wasn't ready for. Peace became such a rare commodity, the nights became longer, and eventually even he, who hates mornings, could wake up and find the sun still rising, the last of the daemons descending back into the earth. He'd see the sky, and he'd remember that day again. The last day he'd been free.
He closes his eyes for a long moment, trying to hold on to that feeling, and when he opens them again his expression is softer, nostalgic and longing.]
There, though? The whole ocean looked like it was on fire. It was so cool.
[And it was beautiful. It was the most beautiful sunrise he'd ever seen.]