When Robin had thought her to have waited long enough, he crept put from the fog which had started to settle as the sun rose high. He looked cheeky, even as he'd traded in his leather, hoodie and jeans for a sleek suit. Marian would laugh herself silly.
In his hand he held a single white rose, which he handed to her. Inside it's delicate white pedals was her ring. It was all the crouching on the knee that he hadn't practiced enough.