When they turn back to each other, Inigo's face a shade Tidus assumes it was just seconds before, he laughs to the request, takes whatever's offered jovially. "Sure sure, honey."

Because that's what this sounds like more to him than some medieval joshing around he barely knows the first thing about. But it's dumb, it's silly, and even he feels the slight pinch of embarrassment in his face and his cheeks, though it's better contained for him than certain others.

'Good luck,' pipes up the flower seller, to which Tidus answers obliviously, "Hey, thanks!"

But he may have been looking at Inigo knowingly, before turning back to his stall. What a life.