( He knows exactly what he's doing: Making the Almighty's own mess of their situation. They're standing in the wake of a couple of heavy admissions yet all he has are more words—the incorrect ones.

Not for the first time, Kaladin considers taking Noctis far from this place. Nowhere in particular, just elsewhere. Up in the sky, over the sea—away. Instead, he listens to his friend cry, gritting his teeth against a strong swell of overprotectiveness. It thickens his throat, and the ache sets in soon after. )

Go ahead and be pissed at me, ( he challenges, voice a barely restrained growl. ) You think that'll stop me from defending you from them and yourself?

Tell me that you should be left alone tonight, Noctis. Swear it to me, and I won't come to find you.