It's two years later when I'm lying in bed, facing my beautiful girlfriend. We're both on our sides, her hand lying in between our bodies.

I pick it up, and her fingers lace with mine as if they were programmed from the start.

"I wish there was a ring here," I say. It's a whisper, and that's all I need.

Her eyes flutter open, letting me glimpse a sliver of deep brown. "Me too," she murmurs.

So I turn around and reach into my bedside drawer, something I've been aching to do since we moved in together.

We'd talked about it a lot. Unadorned rings were prettier, we agreed. Better suited for us. Just a simple band of a wrought promise.

I quite like how the silver looks on her fourth finger. I like how I can still feel the cool metal through my thin nightshirt as she pulls me into her arms. Her corkscrew curls are pressing into my face. They smell soft.

In the morning, she slips mine on and we stay in bed much later than usual, just saying all the things we love about each other. When we finally finish, I kiss her temple and then we shower and get ready.

We go out with no plan other than to spend the entire day by my fiancée. Fiancée. It's such a lovely word to think, to say, to exist. To apply to Annabelle.

When I voice this thought, she pulls me in by the tips of my scarf and kisses me on the nose. "I think I'll like wife better, Hazel Ava."

"I've been thinking," I mention, tugging at her sleeve. It's the middle of autumn, just cold enough for her to start wearing my hoodies again. "I'd like to take your name."

She doesn't say it, and I don't say it, but she and I both know it. I want to take her name because Lev-Damore was once Lee-Davis to me, and no matter what, Annabelle Lee-Davis will always be the one who reminded me to keep going.

"Hazel Ava Lev-Damore. Has a nice ring to it," she muses.

"So does my hand," I beam, looking down at it. The dappled light from the changing trees makes my hand look tan, and my ring reflects the gold.

Annabelle snorts at my comment, and I can't decide if she thinks it was terrible or good. Probably both. Most of mine end up being that combination.

a/n: hi hi hi so right in the honey nut feelios, am i right

went to the baseball game earlier, they played tear in my heart and i was jamming out