[ Sorry, Gerome, but you're not allowed to move an inch. Not with this dancer (?!) holding on as tight as he is.
Inigo buries his face in the crook of his neck (one of the few places where he won't have to deal with metal) and breathes in deep. He's real. This isn't a dream. Laughter bubbles up in him, and he feels the familiar tickle of a tear in his eye - he can't help it when he's just so happy. ]
You're here... [ Deep down he has a feeling this isn't the Gerome he spent countless hours talking with (talking at) under the night sky, who pushed him in his own gruff way to follow his dreams and become a dancer - the masked Lucina, who still goes by the name of Marth, is the same way - but it's Gerome, who he loves so so dearly, and wants to be with no matter the circumstances. His feelings aren't so weak that they'll change just because this version's from a different time than him.
His voice gets a little softer, a little tearier, only for him to hear. ] I'm so glad.
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Inigo buries his face in the crook of his neck (one of the few places where he won't have to deal with metal) and breathes in deep. He's real. This isn't a dream. Laughter bubbles up in him, and he feels the familiar tickle of a tear in his eye - he can't help it when he's just so happy. ]
You're here... [ Deep down he has a feeling this isn't the Gerome he spent countless hours talking with (talking at) under the night sky, who pushed him in his own gruff way to follow his dreams and become a dancer - the masked Lucina, who still goes by the name of Marth, is the same way - but it's Gerome, who he loves so so dearly, and wants to be with no matter the circumstances. His feelings aren't so weak that they'll change just because this version's from a different time than him.
His voice gets a little softer, a little tearier, only for him to hear. ] I'm so glad.