[Eridanus saunters after Lucius, pride plainly worn on his expression, as he indulges in the vision of the Eternal completely taken with his gift. Perhaps it is egotistic, how thoughts of the praise yet to be sung from his lover's lips, for him and him only, shivers satisfaction down his spine.

Regardless of it he slots himself behind Lucius, free hand coming to rest at his naked hip, as he presses his lips to his consort's ear.]

While it is wrought in the style of my people, I did keep your tastes in mind, beloved.

[It's a coy, chuckle of a sound that is gone just as soon as it's come, when Eridanus moves away to set his mug down on the coffee table.]

It will require aid to be dressed in. A selfishness I took upon myself, of course.