[He's quiet a minute, not really looking at Prompto, except that then gradually a hint of a smile starts creeping at the corners of his mouth and he offers up tentatively in a very low voice: ]
There's nothing in the world — any world — that makes me happy like he does.
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There's nothing in the world — any world — that makes me happy like he does.
[Wait for it.]
[Wait for it.]
He's. Rather fun to kiss, too.