happy birthday.
The disbelief is almost pleasant; it’s not exactly something one would have thought Gerome would make for his friend, but he knew well how important it meant for him. Truthfully, he had meant to make something like that since they were back home, since he was in the comfort and warmth of the Wyvern Valley and Inigo out and about travelling the world, visiting several towns sometimes with sometimes without Brady.
He knew of the dream the both of them shared. Knew how important it was for them. Knew well how male dancers were rare, nearly scarce, people didn’t enjoy them as much as they did female dancers, knew how hard it would be to find appropriate dancer clothes that properly fit him. Which is why the rider took the opportunity, took the skills he possessed and the love he felt for Inigo to work on something that took him months, desired for patience & resources the man was often out and about to find them.
And he knows, knows well how happy the outfit had made Inigo. Knows how to read him, knows what it means to see the prince even unable to speak and look away from the careful work his friend had made. He wasn’t the kind not to appreciate his friends’ hard work; no, instead, he was so often overwhelmed by them and their meaning and the effort made that it was impressive Inigo hadn’t burst into tears.
Not yet, at the very least.
❝ I did. ❞ is all he says for now, at the beginning, gives it time for the prince to process the information even if he knew the answer before he had even asked. ❝ I have been planning it for months, even before arriving in this city. I had never had the opportunity back in the valley, however. Truthfully, I did not know either if you would even be here by the time your birthday arrived, or even I myself by the time I was done with it. ❞ It was a constant fear of him, too. Constant fear of not giving Inigo something he knew would mean so much. ❝ Do you like it? ❞
He knew the answer before Gerome voiced it, of course he did; because where in this wreck of a city would he be able to find something like this if not having made it himself? Inigo is a try-hard optimist, but he has no doubts that outfits like these don’t exist here if not handmade.
They barely existed at home!
But the prince listens as the wyvern rider continues, fingers delicate against the fabric in his hands still-- where was he going to keep it that it wouldn’t be ruined! Or torn? He’s sure Gerome could fix it but he’d feel awful for even laying a scratch on any piece of it for any reason. Even the thought made his heart sink a little, honestly. The question makes Inigo’s eyes lift though, finally, a little wide at even the sound of it; it’s almost ridiculous that Gerome even has to ask, the prince thinks, but he also understands wanting to make sure-- he understands needing to have things voiced.
“Of course I do!” It sounds almost breathless, and if Inigo weren’t terrified of dropping the present in his hands, he’d already be latching himself onto the wyvern rider. Not that he doesn’t want to anyways because he does but minding the gift is important.
“It’s beautiful,” Inigo mumbles, a little quieter, “the colours, the seams.. all of it.” It’s definitely praising, it’s thankful, a little too emotional-- just like most of the things that come out of Inigo’s mouth, “Thank you, Gerome.”
