Gabe reached a hand up, running a finger along Soren’s cheek. “I want to marry you because we belong to each other, and I want everyone to know it. I want a ring on your finger. I want a ring on my finger.” Oh. Well. Soren wouldn’t mind that part. The one downside of a happy, emotionally healthy Gabe was that he was now ten times more appealing. Ten times more…golden. People on the street eyed him like he was a big stack of chocolate-chip pancakes. And he was.
