It was another memory. From sometime at the end of last month.
It was a shared one, actually. Prompto remembers it clearly, too, just from his point of view. It was very mundane, us chatting outside. I was telling a story, which was innocent enough, but it was what I felt at the time that truly bothered me. I felt disdain towards him. Stronger than that, perhaps. As if he were nothing, inconsequential, barely even human. Worse than that, a sort of bitterness that I cannot put into words.
What sort of man feels that way towards /Prompto/, of all people? And thus, in this reality, I feel guilty for it.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-07-25 07:49 pm (UTC)It was a shared one, actually. Prompto remembers it clearly, too, just from his point of view. It was very mundane, us chatting outside. I was telling a story, which was innocent enough, but it was what I felt at the time that truly bothered me. I felt disdain towards him. Stronger than that, perhaps. As if he were nothing, inconsequential, barely even human. Worse than that, a sort of bitterness that I cannot put into words.
What sort of man feels that way towards /Prompto/, of all people? And thus, in this reality, I feel guilty for it.