Ephemera leans forward to touch their foreheads together, taking a moment just to breathe. It feels like less of a shock now that he's had a moment to let his brain play catch up, and more like the inevitable continuation of what's already happened between them. They've already said the words, lived together, stood together after both of them had already died. And this is what people do, isn't it? They make a gesture to symbolize everything. Ephemera thinks of his armor and how important it was, even when he'd been Sharkface, to paint it just right so the rest of the world would know what they were looking at.

This is different. Less fraught, less violent. But it is important, and it ought to be done right.

"I do," he says quietly, and squeezes Drake's shoulder. Ephemera's never worn rings before, but it doesn't feel too strange. He might not be able to wear it with his gauntlets on, but he can get a chain and put it on that. Wear it around his neck when he's armored up. That feels right, too. "And. This matters. Wherever we end up, we'll do - something, you know? Even paperwork. I will do paperwork for you, Drake."

He's been told marriage involves paperwork, which is probably Ephemera's least favorite thing. But it matters, and he'll do it right.