Prompto spun the cylinder of his revolver round and round lazily.
Round...round and round...round and round and round....
Boring. Fucking boring.
But at least it stopped him from scratching incessantly at that barcode under his wristband. And at least it kept him from putting a bullet through the brains of any one of his companions.
That was the thing. Back on the road he'd been able to take his quivering rage out on the local wildlife, monsters that by all means deserved to die for terrorizing the local settlements. He could shoot away as much as he wanted, even at the humanoid Magitek Soldiers that frequently dropped in to say hello on the roads, and he'd be valued as a hero by all.
Ever since you'd all come to Altissia though, his trigger finger had been itching relentlessly. He'd started to realize through all these nights of waiting for Lunafreya, wasting time in fancy restaurants, mingling among the local festivities, drinking copious amounts of alcohol in the evenings, that the only reason he had managed to keep it together so far was because he'd been able to take it out on someone. Something, rather.
For every dead monster or worthless piece of scrap metal, he managed to contain his anger a little longer. Where that fury stemmed from was not unknown to him. You were responsible for this manner in which he had just...lost his mind. He managed to disguise it well enough around all of you, but he was like a ticking time bomb.
Tick tock, tick tock.
Only a matter of time until he blew up and took you all down with him.
The core reason? Ironically...it was love.
Something so pure and beautiful had driven him into madness, and all because he knew deep down that he would never be able to have you. You, this flawless, skilful companion who protected Prince Noctis at all costs. You were fit for royalty, not some bumbling, freckled dork with a blonde mop like the backside of a Chocobo.
Why would you ever be interested in him? No...he'd got his hopes up at the start, but he'd come to see it himself. The way you looked at Noct, or even Ignis and Gladio, was always so different from the way you looked at him. There seemed to be hints of romance in your eyes when you were around those guys, but around him you were always just goofing around and treating him like a...well...a friend.
It was sickening. People talked about being 'friendzoned' like it was the apocalypse, but actually being in it really felt that way. You'd locked him aside in some cage that could never be touched. He was officially off the menu, that was what he assumed from your behavior.
So no wonder then, he felt, no wonder he bred such a horrible attitude behind that faux jokester persona he put on. He had to keep all these torturous feelings bottle up inside of himself...never admitting anything because if he did, he felt like he would just be mocked and chastised. What was the point when he didn't stand a chance?
Prompto had tried for so long to keep it hidden, but now that facade was being threatened, threatened by the most peaceful place in all of Eos. There was nothing to kill here, nothing to face, not yet anyway. You were all just 'taking a break for a while', as Gladio had so lovingly put it, and that 'while' had started to drag on a bit too long.
If Prompto had to spend one more minute around you and these schmoozy jerks, he really would go ballistic. So he still tried to keep his distance, and on this particular night he took his leave from the festival bar early so he could go down among the archways by the water. He felt like he was alone there...at least for some time.
However, that peace didn't last. It couldn't last, not when he was surely being tortured like this. Soon enough he heard footsteps echoing in the darker archways behind him, recognizable voices accompanying them.
“Iggy are you sure we should be doing this? Heh...I mean it's not like I don't want to...”
“If you're worried about Noct, I assure you that Gladio will have it under control.”
Prompto shied back behind one of the pillars, pressing his spine snug to the stone, and listening. There wasn't much to hear though...
“I've been waiting all night for this...” you breathed out needily, and he could hear Ignis pushing you up gently against the wall.
“I know you have.”
Following that, just the sounds of a happy, feverish couple, kissing away without knowing they were being observed. Prompto dug his nails so hard into the hard surface behind him that they almost cracked. His teeth bared, and the gun on his hip had never felt so red hot and ready.
So easy. It would be so easy to spin around and fire into the shadows. He had a good aim, he knew he would hit dear 'Iggy' and not you. If he shot Ignis down here and subdued you in time then maybe nobody would notice. With some luck and quick thinking, he'd easily force you to play along and tell a lie to the other two. Lure Gladiolus and the precious Prince into someplace just as secluded, and take them out as well.
Three bullets. Three bullets was all it would take.
Yet as Prompto pulled his gun up and popped open the cylinder, honestly ready to do it at this manic stage, he was greeted by a sight that made his heart sink right down to his freshly polished boots.
Just one, glinting in fake gold, ready to be plunged into someone's cranium. He was good, but he wasn't good enough to curve a bullet through one guy, up several flights of stairs, and then swing it around 180 to the bar. He knew he had ammo back at the hotel, but that would be too tricky. His plans were punctured in an instant. If only he had some on him...pity he'd become lax given there was nothing to shoot here except the fish.
Maybe he was better off turning it on himself. He didn't know if he could endure the mental anguish of watching you be wed to that pretentious, glasses wearing...
...But hold on a second.
Prompto suddenly got an idea, and a monstrous grin spread between his lips. The malevolent glimmer in his eye was even more noticeable in the moonlight.
He glanced down at the cylinder again. Just a single bullet, yes, but a single bullet could do so much.
And it might not even have to be fired...
“Oh come on [Y/N]. You've been playing games all day. Don't you want to play one with me?”
Prompto pouted, sticking out his lower lip like a petulant child.
How could you help it? He'd lured you into the hotel room, away from the bar and your fellow friends, promising to show you something 'cool' that he'd won at one of the festival stalls. Figuring you'd see some sort of cute Moogle plushie, you'd instead been greeted with a sharp whack to the head, and woken up tied to an ornate chair in the centre of the scarlet-themed bedroom. Your hands were bound in black zip-ties behind your back, a similar trapping around your ankles. Prompto hadn't bothered shutting you up because these rooms were soundproofed anyway, and he wanted to talk...
He also wanted to keep that gun trained on you. He kept clicking the safety on and off, taunting you with it. Not once did he waver, but you did. You were sobbing all over the place.
“L-let me go! Please! Let me go...” you hiccuped and wailed, red-cheeked and streaming with saltwater. You didn't know what in the hell had convinced Prompto to turn on you like this, but you were petrified.
Prompto almost felt sorry for you. Yet he was also supremely irritated by how you wouldn't shut up when he told you to, and so he was sure to come storming over and press the cold metal to your browbone.
He jerked back your head just by thrusting the gun against it, and heard you gasp. That seemed to calm him somewhat, if only because the shock had made you go quiet.
“Feel that [Y/N]? Can you tell if there's a bullet in there? Do you think if I fired right now, it would kill you? Or would you be okay?”
You didn't know how to answer that. You were too busy literally watching your life replay.
That faded away though, as Prompto pulled back and stood straight again. He looked down at you smugly, still holding the gun out, and still very much making sure that you were a target.
His fingertips came out, and brushed softly against your cheek. They traced down your skin, right to your jaw, and then up across your quivering, blush pink lips. Prompto gazed at them dreamily for a moment, pressing his thumb between them and forcing your maw to part a little. He could hear you panting, see how nervous you were.
“...I can definitely see why he wanted to kiss you. I bet they all want to, huh? And I bet you'd let them...”
His eyes hooded darkly, hand slipping away slowly, while you looked at him in terrorized confusion.
“...Not me though. I always knew it would never happen...”
Prompto paused again, before simply smiling. His free hand soon returned, this time making its way fully from your neck to your waist, and every curve in-between. You squirmed of course, feeling a sense of shyness in his approach, but knowing that it was totally overshadowed by the menace.
“That's fine though...” he finally pulled away properly. “In no time I'll have you all to myself, one way or another. Whatever the outcome is...you're finally going to be mine...”
His head tilted eerily then, his near delirious tone not leaving anytime soon.
“Do you know the game 'Russian Roulette', [Y/N]? It's a very special game I've been really wanting to play with you...”
You knew it, but he was going to explain it to you anyway.
“It's all about chance, get it? You hold the gun up to your temple, and pull the trigger. The cylinder rotates...and maybe there's a bullet headed for you, or maybe not. Either way, you won't know until you fire.”
Prompto smirked wider, almost ear to ear.
“You can win a big prize if you play, and that's no exception here either. We'll play things a little differently of course...”
He turned the safety off, for good this time.
“Since you're all tied up, I'll do the shooting. You're in extra luck, because there are three chambers in this one. That means there's only a 1 in 3 chance that you'll die when I pull the trigger...”
Prompto stepped a little closer, running his tongue over his teeth when he saw the pure, unadulterated fear in your eyes. Oh how the tables had turned. No more happy little kisses by the docks...
“It's worth a shot, don't you think?”
You shut your eyes tight, bracing yourself already, while Prompto continued talking cockily:
“I guess you just wanna get right to it, huh? Get it over with? Well in that case, I'll let you find out what your reward is later. Provided you're still alive, of course...”
The gun lifted. You could hear the blood rushing to your ears, your stomach like a weight in your center, your heart beating at a thousand miles a minute. Any second now, and you were sure you'd die.
Did you have any regrets?
Any last wishes? Any last words?