[ Trahearne eyes Syrlya as he sits beside him, keying in on the buzz. That, in turn, causes a flutter of his own nerves.

He lets the other take his hand, and he blinks when he feels the cold on it. And--

When he sees the ring, his lips part, and his brows raise. ]

Syrlya...

[ His voice is scarcely a whisper. His gaze darts up to his beloved, then back down at it. Gingerly, he picks it up to get a closer look at it. And when he sees the pieces of leaves--pieces of Syrlya--in it, his chest swells with adoration. It blossoms and catches in his throat, pricks at the back of his eyes. ]

...Now I will always have a piece of you with me, no matter where I go. I love it.

[ He looks up again at Syrlya, and his whole being hurts with love. ]

I love you.

[ He's afraid he might cry if he smiles; he doesn't, though his expression remains soft. He hands over the ring to Syrlya, a quiet request for him to put it on him for him. ]

[ Trahearne takes it, without question. As Syrlya slips it on his finger, all he can think of is them--all the times he'd stolen glances of him in the Pact, imagining living in a peaceful future where they could be together; all the times they'd fought side by side as a single unit, invincible; all the times they looked to each other and smiled, satisfied with one another's company.

All the quiet moments they've shared since. All the touches, all of the kisses.

And all of the days yet to come.

With his other hand, he slips it on the rest of the way. The ring sits comfortably on its spot near his palm; he slips off his glove to look at it, and--

His eyes dart up at Syrlya, breath catching in his throat. ]

In all my life, never have I met anyone as brilliant and loving as you, Syrlya. [ He reaches to cradle his face--the presence of the ring is obvious with the slight pressure around it, but he doesn't hate it. It's a reminder of Syrlya.

He leans forward, resting his forehead on his. ]

You are my sunlight.

[ It feels nice. Lovely, actually, to feel the flow. He doubts this river will ever dry up. ]

And you, mine. I love you, too.

[ His voice is quiet; no need to speak much louder when they're this close.

Trahearne shifts forward to capture Syrlya's lips in his, and his chest flutters. Every kiss feels like the first, and he is going to embrace this feeling as long as it lasts. ]

[ It's very, very hard to pull away. Trahearne keeps pushing, wanting more of Syrlya; that when he does eventually break the kiss, they're part-way down to the couch.

He hovers for a time before eventually speaking. ]

You are more beautiful than any piece of jewellery. [ He removes his hand for a moment to look at the ring again. His chest hurts. ] Which makes this a work of pure art. ...Thank you, again.

[ It takes a lot to find the will to stop kissing Syrlya, each press of their lips, each brush of their tongues making up for every day, hour they've missed.

But Trahearne is mindful. ]

I think... [ A kiss. ] ...I should show you... [ another kiss ] ...where I'm going to put all... [ and another. ] ...my new books and scrolls.

[ Trahearne's hands glide up his back as he himself gets up, supporting him into a sitting position. With a little mischievous smile, he grasps Syrlya's hand--the firmness of the ring between them causing a little flutter in his stomach--and stands from the couch, and takes him out of the living room.

Though it's still only one floor, the house is much bigger. Trahearne takes Syrlya down a hallway that did not exist before, and into a door at the end of it. Inside sits a sizeable bed, a mostly-empty bookshelf, a familiar-looking folding table resting against the wall, a chest of drawers, and a large, floor-length mirror standing beside it. For reference. For later. :nyan:

As the door closes behind them, Trahearne spins around and sweeps his other arm around Syrlya's waist, pulling him into a close, but gentle hold. They could dance like this, he thinks, as he leans over him, admiring the delicate lines of his face. ]

As you can see... [ His voice dips as he does. ] ...I have plenty of room for books, now.

[ Trahearne's lips are about mold with Syrlya's again when he speaks, he appropriately pulls back to look at him when he speaks.

And when he hears what he has to say, his brows raise slightly. Intrigue, and surprise. ]

Are they coming with us? [ There is the faintest hint of expectation in his voice, too. ] You've spoken with them? And the goddess?

[ Trahearne doesn't catch the us either, or the significance behind it. This is probably the second best piece of news he's received all day. ]

That is a relief. [ He straightens, smile widening as he loosens his hold on Syrlya. ] I would hate to know they would have to return--from what little I've seen, I don't like it. [ Like Orr, but on high octane depression and vampires! Truly the worst. ]

I know how much we both care for them. I would be happy to have them in Tyria. And I'm sure Tyria would love to have them, too.

[ Hmm. Trahearne tilts his head slightly; it takes a moment for him to respond as he studies Syrlya.

He's starting to see a lot of "I'll do it" from him. He knows Syrlya has always been an eager helper, but he does not have to shoulder all this responsibility alone. Being a hero must be...hard. ]

Let me help you. [ Trahearne's hands drift up to rest on Syrlya's shoulders, an earnest plea to at least consider his request. ] With our power and influence combined, their transition into life on Tyria will be an easy one.

[ Trahearne's mouth twists wryly. That's fair. At this point, it still feels like some time has passed, but only a few seasons, by virtue of living in Crescentview. Not years. It will probably hit him when they arrive, and he sees how much has changed. ...And how many people they've lost. ]

I've not forgotten. [ Knowing and experiencing are two different things, but. ] But I still have bonds in the life I lived before I met you. I will see to it that they are of use.

[ He squeezes Syrlya's shoulders. ] Do not shoulder this by yourself. I am here for you.

I know. I can't help it.

[ And he's going to keep worrying, because that's what he does.

He leans in to kiss him on the forehead. ]

Either way, I'm looking forward to our new life on Tyria with them. That's quite an exciting piece of news. Thank you, Syrlya.