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Tommy lays back against a tree, Maria snuggling between his legs, her back to his front. The air is warm, but the breeze keeps it from getting too hot. The shadows are starting to creep long across the ground, and Tommy knows it's almost time to head back to Jackson, but he doesn't want to leave this moment just yet. He can smell the sweet scent of Maria shampoo, shea butter, vanilla, and lavender. Her skin feels smooth under his fingers as he absently runs his hand up and down her arm, the sensation soothing.
She slides her left hand down to his and picks it up so she can compare the two. Hers is so much smaller than his but still just as strong, still as callused from hard work, still stained with blood that will never truly wash away. Maria understands him, and he understands her. They both know what the other has done to get where they are now, and they accept each other in spite of it.
Tommy reaches his other hand across and slides a plain gold band onto the third finger of her hand; he feels her still as it settles effortlessly into place.
"Maria?" he whispers a quiet and soft question into her ear. She knows that if she reaches forward and removes the ring, Tommy won't make a fuss. He'll still come and pick her up tomorrow so they can eat together at the dining hall, he'll still walk with her around town and say howdy to all their neighbors, and he'll still take her to bed with him that night and make love to her like she's the only one in the world for him.
But she doesn't. She tilts her head and nods slightly, interlocking her fingers with his, small with his large. She then turns her head and kisses him slow and deep, her lips a balm. He sighs into her mouth, releasing the nerves he has been holding within, and she takes it into herself and feeds him a warm and welcome laugh in return.
"Guess we need to find ourselves a priest, darlin'." he chuckles.