Hobie doesn't do marriage. The whole concept goes against everything he stands for.

You've been together for a while- a long while. Like can't-remember-not-living-with-each-other long. And sure, you've got a cute apartment and Sandwich the staffie, but he wanted something to feel final about this one.

He glances at you where you're sat beside him, his gaze soft. "How'd you feel about gettin' tattoos? Matchin' tattoos." The question is simple enough. But that to him? That's his proposal.