I don't need grand declarations from you.
The bustle of traffic outside is somewhat muted by the drumming of rain on the windows. Arthur has an arm slung casually over her shoulder as they talk.
"Can you see us growing old?" She scrunches up her face and laughs, as if it were all a joke.
He rubs her shoulder with his thumb. "Actually? Yes." He removes his arm from her shoulders, his posture a little stiffer, more reserved.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing... It's just – In our line of work it's not entirely unheard of to be lost." The words are slow, as if he's forcing them out. Dom and Mal still hangs over them like an omnipresent shadow.
"I wouldn't mind so much if I was with you," she says, trying to make the best of such a somber topic.
"We could spend all day building. Well, at least you could." Ariadne mock-punches him in the shoulder.
"You're not that bad an architect. You did teach me."
He snorts. "You flatter me."
"It's true! Then we'd take long romantic strolls on improbably perfect beaches."
"Oh yes, with cocktails in hand and the setting sun behind us." He gestures dramatically, fingers trailing through the air as if he was drawing the over-the-top scene in front of them.
"Exactly." Ariadne laughs. "Sounds like the setup for some romantic movie proposal."
Arthur considers this. In one movement, he grabs his die from the bedside table and places it in her hand, closing her fingers over it. Ariadne starts to protest but he speaks first.
"I trust you." Absolutely.
She nods weakly. "Arthur... Arthur are you –"
"I would have gotten you a ring."
She hands him her bishop and kisses him.