It's a bit hard to soothe over the hurt in Inigo's heart that - he knows - he's just creating for himself. There's no need at all to feel so weirdly bummed about the topic, and yet he somehow can't seem to stop himself from feeling that way all the same. His hands idly pick at his pants, fretting, worried. Unable to stop that voice in the back of his head from making fun of him. Look at the one guy who doesn't even get it. The odd one out.

"Alright." But old habits kick in, the urge to hide it, and he pushes it all down as far as he can, just enough so he's able to smile at the two of them from the physical contact at both sides. Save it for later. "Sounds like a plan! I'd love to have one."