Which meant that it was definitely going to go on like that for a while. Minutes? Hours? Days? Clearly, time was all relative now, anyway, just some amorphous blob that could now squeeze ten years into just a few short months, so why not weeks' worth of kissing and touching and clinging into a morning? They certainly had a lot to make up for.

But, eventually, mind even fuzzier about how long it had been than before, Prompto did pull away, with a shaking, shuddering breath, and he closed his eyes and just leaned his forehead against Liz's, still only moving enough to try and catch that breath, only to hold it again to see if it would all end.

But it didn't. He was still there. Liz was still there. Neither of them seemed to be going anywhere.

"S-sorry," he muttered softly, sincerely, though he wasn't entirely sure what he was apologizing for. For kissing her like that? For clinging? For the tears still his eyes, or for having left in the first place, for having returned like this, for having taken so long? He didn't know. Yes, probably, to all of it. "I just--"

But there were no words.

So he was sorry for that, too.