Between their palms Jim feels something small, smooth, and colder than Leonard’s warm hand. Drawing away he takes it between his fingers and looks down at the trinket, a simple silver ring. Leonard looks suddenly embarrassed in a way Jim doesn’t often see.

“I know it isn’t much,” Leonard says, starts to explain away, “I saw it at a shop when we got to Riverside and I just thought – well, I don’t know what I thought. If you don’t like it—”

“Are you asking me to marry you?” Jim asks, holding the ring between them. Leonard swallows tightly.

“Yeah,” he nods, “I am.”

Jim examines the ring for another moment, rolling it between his fingers in appraisal. “You didn’t need to get me a ring, you know,” he says, “I would’ve married you without it.”

“Yeah, I know.”