Something solid and real, not just a symbol. There's a reason Ephemera paints his armor, counts up his tattoos and makes sure they all look exactly how he means them to. The symbols, physical or not, matter. They hold the line when the world goes mad. And they stand as proof for what they've both accomplished in the face of all that madness.

Ephemera closes his good eye and leans against Drake, content to just - be, for a moment. It's strange, sometimes, to think he can have this. That he can feel safe and quiet and loved, and believe that it will last. That he won't lose it the moment he turns his back.

"Just for me, huh?" His voice is soft and content. The ring feels good on his hand, now that he's gotten used to the feel of it. "I want...fuck. I want to eat and sit with you and just....be. For a little while."

Cheesy as all fuck, but he wants that. Some time for just the two of them to sit and talk, and share the same space, where they can be quiet and let the tension go for a little while.