Caleb stands obediently still as Yussa makes his minor adjustments, settling everything where it should be. He smiles, somewhere between bashful and giddy. Of course they suit him; Yussa picked them, and he would not choose wrongly. "They are pretty good. The shoulders may be a little tight." (The shoulders are perfectly fine; he's just never owned a jacket made to fit him before.)

The color is beautiful, and makes for a striking contrast with his hair, from what he can see. He wonders if he should, perhaps, wear it down tonight for a change. He'll solicit Yussa's opinion on that as well.

"Do you like it?" By it he means him, and how he looks in these clothes that feel far too fine for him, but he shies away from asking outright.