Noctis leaned against the counter as the tea steeped, looking up to the ceiling for a moment as though trying to contemplate where to even begin to say something. Prompto had found out, somehow, but who-?

He wanted to know, and at the same time... was almost afraid to. In fact, he was almost about to ask when he looked down to see how Prompto was resting his head on the table, hiding his face from view with his arms.

Somehow, that tore him up more than knowing he had to die.

Noctis picked up both mugs before quietly walking to the table. Placing Prompto's in front of the little blockade, he pulled out a chair and sat down beside him. Resting a hand on Prompto's back, gently. Before removing it and leaning back in his chair.

He was never imposing on him. His king was just an idiot who didn't know how else to express how much he cared.