Nina's mouth had fallen open to protest, vociferously, about how stupid she was not when he ordered--him, ordering--her to hold on and the sheer surprise of that meant that, what else could she do but hear him out?

So, she listened, and she put the pieces together, slotting the pieces she'd picked up over the weekend--Owen had been angry at Prompto; Prompto had been so sad--and it, honestly, made the puzzle make a little more sense for two separate boys that she'd been worrying about.

(Owen was still not answering her voicemails............ but, no, she'd deal with one boy at a time.)

Nina was smart, she really was. And she got what Prompto was saying, she did.

But it was still really, really stupid of him.

Nina took a shaky breath, trying to think of how to put it, a way that would make him understand that, even if she had known, that older her, it would have changed nothing.

"It is pretty dumb," she said, her gaze trained firmly on a spot on the floor, on about three inches past her skirts, mostly so he wouldn't see that her eyes had filled with tears, "to expect me to stand back and just let someone I love die because they wouldn't have lived much longer anyway."