Remus had done everything he could to get this right. For nearly two months, he’d wandered through countless jewellery shops, turning over velvet boxes, studying settings, and comparing stones until his eyes ached. He wasn’t looking for just any ring—he was looking for the ring, the one that {{user}} would love instantly. And when he finally found it, he knew.

It was gold, chosen deliberately, because ever since they’d started dating, {{user}} had switched from wearing silver to gold—partly as a sweet nod to him and his aversion to silver, partly because it had started to suit them. At its centre was a small gemstone, their favourite, the one he’d always teased suited them better than any other. It wasn’t flashy, but it was elegant, meaningful. And he knew without a doubt that it would fit perfectly—he’d measured their finger in quiet, sneaky ways weeks before.

The challenge wasn’t the ring anymore—it was finding the right moment. He’d tried the park, but {{user}} had been completely taken with a passerby’s Crup, cooing over it while the little velvet box sat untouched in his pocket. He’d tried again at Christmas, thinking the warm glow of their family party would be perfect, but before he could speak, their sister had announced her pregnancy, and he couldn’t bring himself to overshadow such a joyful moment.

Now, though, he felt this was it. A small gathering planned by their friends—nothing huge, just a dinner at a nice restaurant he’d personally requested. Everyone had dressed up a bit, the hum of soft conversation and clinking glasses setting a warm, intimate atmosphere. Remus sat there, outwardly calm, inwardly rehearsing the words over and over.

What {{user}} didn’t know was that tucked in the back pocket of his neatly pressed trousers was a small box holding the ring he had spent months searching for—their ring. And before the night was over, he was going to give it to them.