He wouldn't lie on that - they looked like scars that hurt. The kind of wounds that should have ended someone's life. Instead, Noctis had managed to live through them, something that Gladio was only just coming to terms with as he sat here and replayed the image of them across in his mind. They hadn't gotten along terribly well so far in their lives, but Gladio had only seen the later pieces of some of it in Noct. The sullenness, the stubbornness, the disinterest in nearly everything.

But last night, he'd seen something more. A child with something more in him than just being a brat. He'd done everything right, even fought for himself as much as he could against the assassin, but more... hadn't been afraid of him. Something that could have, if Fate had been less with him, torn him apart long before anyone could have stopped him.

"Maybe I'm just a quiet guy," Gladio points out, but lets out a breath. Fine. "...Meaning you want me around more?" which is very different than their mostly separate existence.