Man, Prompto, there were so many ways that plan of yours could have backfired. What if Nina had been out in town? What if she'd been napping? Or what if she simply hadn't had her phone on her?

Though that one, at least, alright, was unlikely to happen. Nina had taken to that bit of tech like, er, a fish to water and her phone was her most favourite tool in this world. (Though her tablet was trying to convince her otherwise.)

And, in any case, all Nina had been doing with her Saturday had been lounging around stealing cookies out of the snack drawer she and Vette had, and exploiting her new library card to borrow all the books. Well. Not all of them. But it certainly felt that way as she read and read and read.

So Prompto's text was read, like, half a second after he sent it and, with a yelp of complete indignation at the very thought of him drinking this milkshake of hers, Nina was up and moving and it was only on the stairs that she wondered why he was doing this, but by then, well, there was nothing to do but keep on going.

And, like, sure. She could have knocked but if he didn't think her trying the door to see if it would open was a thing she'd do (it was totally a thing she'd do) then he deserved the despair that would bring him as she burst in on him.

And if the door was locked, well, she was pretty content to talk through the door. That was knocking enough, really, wasn't it?

"Promptoooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!! What a thing to threaten!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That's rude!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"