Gods of Lucis Book One: Origins

Chapter Three

Sleepless nights and busy days occupied Prompto's time in Insomnia. The blond snorted, rolling his eyes. Of course he'd be awake all night in Insomnia.

"What a load of bullshit," he hissed, kicking at the ground as he walked, glum expression on his face. He wanted to see you again -- needed to see you again. But he had been far too busy to make a trip to the mortal world.

"Man, I need a vacation," Prompto grumbled, halting his steps as he looked to the sky. His lips pursed and blond brows furrowed, he sighed, shoulders going slack. He ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath through his nose. "Why'd it have to be me?"

***

You had come back to the forest, hoping you'd get to see that god again. As you wandered through the trees, you took in everything around you.

Just like that day, the birds were singing their songs, the sound echoing all around you. Sunlight filtered through the leaves above your head, casting shadows and light patches across the ground at your feet. Blooms in blues and purples rose from the earth around tree trunks, their stems waving with the wind.

A soft smile touched your lips as you knelt before one tree, fingertips brushing the silken petals of a cobalt blue flower. Your touch was delicate as you admired the flower, the color reminding you of a fair-haired god.

"Didn't expect a welcoming committee," a man's voice startled you, and you stood, whirling around with wide eyes. He stood with his shoulder leaning against a tree, a smirk on his lips. Despite the smirk, his features were soft. His eyes raked down your form, stopping on the cloth wrapped around your finger.

The golden-haired god approached you slowly, brows knitted together. His hand reached for yours, eyes lifting to yours in silent question. You relaxed your hand, fingers letting go of the fabric they held to so tightly. Seeing that as the go-ahead, the god took your wrist much like you had his. He unwrapped your finger gently, lips set in a tight line when he saw the slice.

"What happened?" he asked, touching the injury. The pressure made you pull away slightly, and his fingers gripped your palm just a bit tighter.

"Nothing," you mumbled, casting your eyes to the ground. "Just a stupid accident." His sigh reached your ears and he released your hand, reaching into his pocket.

"Here, this should help," he muttered, holding out a small glass container. You eyed it, making the god smile. "Don't worry, it's just a salve. My friend -- uh, the Goddess of Healing, gave it to me. I can be kinda reckless sometimes." An awkward chuckle fell from his lips as he rubbed the back of his head.

"Are you sure it's okay for me to use it?" you asked quietly, hands fisting in the material of your shirt. You flinched slightly, forcing your grip to relax -- it was a habit from your childhood that you would rather not have.

"'Course it's okay!" he smiled, handing the salve to you. You bit your lip, trying to decide whether you should take him up on his offer, or if you should decline. But he didn't give you much time to decide, as he quickly grabbed your hand once more, already applying the salve to your finger. You watched him work, and were frozen by his beauty.

His shoulders slightly hunched as he held your hand steady, slight smile tugging at his lips. His cheeks were tinged a pale pink, making his freckles stand out that much more. Your eyes ghosted over his features. He had more freckles than you had thought, the pinpricks creating galaxies across the entirety of his face. Above his left eyebrow, at both corners of his mouth, and even on his jaw, he had more prominent markings -- but you couldn't tell if they were freckles or scars.

Eyes tracing the freckles across his nose, your lips turned downwards. A small, linear scar -- barely visible unless you knew what to look for -- cut through his speckled skin. Your eyes perused his face again, this time looking at it in a different light, when they caught on something.

There, slicing through the tail end of his left eyebrow, was another scar -- this one more jagged than the other.

Your free hand was reaching towards him before you could stop it. Fingers grazed his nose, startling the god as his eyes shot up to look at you. His smile had slipped when you had made contact with the old scar, his fingers gripping your palm tightly.

With a frown, you watched as he took a few steps away from you, a hand going to cover the scar as he gave you a pained smile.

"See? Told you I can be pretty reckless," he hummed. His smile made you want to cry, to scream at the top of your lungs. It was such a sad expression that was on his face, and the pain filling his eyes was unmistakable.

"Who hurt you?" You whispered, stepping close to the god again. A hand cradling his face, you purse your lips. "Pain doesn't suit you at all, and yet that's the only thing I can see filling your eyes."