(Final Fantasy XV) Electric Chronic Tonic

He laughs. It just bubbles out of him. He’s split open in his own empty lifeless kitchen, and his best friend in the world, his only real friend is texting him like he’s a normal human. Like he couldn’t possibly be a monster in human skin. He can’t think of a reply. He just drags himself upstairs, digs through the medicine cabinet for a bandage, and then crawls into bed feeling the way he is: taped together, weak, ugly. Prompto was almost five when he was rescued from the lab. Lucky for him, he doesn't remember any of his early childhood. Scratch that. Didn't remember.