Enchanted [Final Fantasy XV]

❥ chapter I

CONTENT WARNING(S):

major spoilers

non-graphic violence

canon divergence

partial memory loss

tattooed!reader

Don't like, don't read!

━━━━━━━━━━♥━━♡━━♥━━━━━━━━━━

A/N:

Warning! This fanfic is unfinished (as of yet) and has been on hiatus for a while now. I cannot promise that I will ever finish it, but I still wanted to share it with you, my dear readers. I hope you will enjoy it nonetheless~! ♥

━━━━━━━━━━♥━━♡━━♥━━━━━━━━━━

en·​chant·​ed

/ɪnˈtʃɑːn.tɪd/

adjective

placed under or as if under a magic spell ❣ made to feel delightfully pleased or charmed

━━━━━━━━━━♥━━♡━━♥━━━━━━━━━━

Gloved hands tucked into the pockets of your quilted jacket and chin buried in your warm, woolly scarf, you ambled along the more or less deserted sidewalk on your way home from your part-time job at the local library. The thin blanket of freshly fallen and still pure white snow crunched beneath your boot-clad feet with each step you took.

"I want to ride my chocobo all day," you quietly sang to yourself time and again, almost like a mantra.

That damned song was stuck in your head again, for the umpteenth time this month alone. Ever since you had woken up this morning after yet another long night of staying up late—later than you probably should have—and playing video games, you just couldn't get it out of your head, no matter what you did. It was way too ear-catching, what with Prompto constantly singing it ... only that one line, though.

The thought of Prompto and his three equally lovely friends put a dreamy smile on your face. Unconsciously, you quickened your pace, eager to get home, make yourself comfortable on your sofa bed in your cosiest clothes, and continue your fifth playthrough of your favourite Final Fantasy game.

"I want to—" You paused, both breaking off your muted singing and stopping dead in your tracks. "Wait a second." Backtracking a couple of steps, you went up to a quaint little antiques shop wedged between an elegant beauty salon and a trendy boutique.

The protruding shop window, which took up the greater part of the shop's façade, was loaded with a wide variety of goods, from vintage furniture to delicate jewellery and just about everything in between, be it old vinyl records, thumbed books and comics, old-fashioned picture frames, miscellaneous antiquated knick-knack, or even a bulky grandfather's clock. "Kalie's Treasures," read the wooden sign above the front door next to the bay window in gold calligraphic letters.

You prided yourself on knowing your hometown like the back of your hand. You were particularly familiar with the streets and alleys leading to your workplace from the old apartment building you were living in, and with the shops that lined those very streets and alleys. That was why you knew for a fact that this shop hadn't been here the last time you had walked home from work—or, to put it another way, yesterday.