It felt like a stab into his chest when he realized what was happening. Noctis could remember those days of long ago, of tucking himself into Ignis' arms because he'd had a nightmare or scraped a knee or was frustrated. His entire world had changed when he'd nearly died, and when he looked back, he could see with ever clear hindsight. Now, it felt impossible to do the same, even though deep inside he wanted nothing more than to run over there and take Ignis into his arms.

His stomach clenched, breathing out slowly, before he nodded. The wall was there, one he had started, but it told him just how much of a problem there was with Ignis.

"...okay." And with that, he started to leave, but when he got to the doorway, he stopped, back to Ignis. A thick swallow, then, in the smallest attempt to reach out, even if it was a weak one, "we'll be okay." They'd all be okay. They had to be.

With that, he left Ignis alone, and went to go sit where he had been before, watching out the window and thinking. Listening.