'Nerves'. Gladio isn't sure he believes that for a moment, staring down at Prompto's face. Prompto has never flinched from him before. Not even during training, during sparring, when they were having fun. He's never seen Prompto flinch from anything. He's seen it in Noct, when anyone tries to touch the scar on his back. Seen it in fighters who have seen too much and even in his own father.
If his worry hadn't been as strong as it is, he knows his anger would have lost him in that moment. He pulls his hand back, fighting the urge to clench down physically on what he feels in his head.
At least some of the potion gets in Prompto, and what doesn't won't really go to waste. It'll soak into the skin, repairing damage on the outside, but Gladio knows from the blood around Prompto's lips its the internal damage they have to be more concerned about. One arm stays wrapped around Prompto's body, keeping him close without a second thought. Giving the other the strength he's supposed to have even if he feels so Gods damned helpless right now.
"Let me get your eye?" asks quietly, setting the last bits of the potion in his lap and taking some up on his fingers, gesturing with them towards Prompto's face. At least some of that horrific puffiness he could deal with. "...I can get you up to speed as much as I can, but... there's not a lot of it." And from the frustration that leaks though, Gladio is every kind of angry still on that notion.
he looks so determined and so kicked puppy
If his worry hadn't been as strong as it is, he knows his anger would have lost him in that moment. He pulls his hand back, fighting the urge to clench down physically on what he feels in his head.
At least some of the potion gets in Prompto, and what doesn't won't really go to waste. It'll soak into the skin, repairing damage on the outside, but Gladio knows from the blood around Prompto's lips its the internal damage they have to be more concerned about. One arm stays wrapped around Prompto's body, keeping him close without a second thought. Giving the other the strength he's supposed to have even if he feels so Gods damned helpless right now.
"Let me get your eye?" asks quietly, setting the last bits of the potion in his lap and taking some up on his fingers, gesturing with them towards Prompto's face. At least some of that horrific puffiness he could deal with. "...I can get you up to speed as much as I can, but... there's not a lot of it." And from the frustration that leaks though, Gladio is every kind of angry still on that notion.