Gansey's fingers slid beneath the Phantom's until his palm was pressing against the back of the man's hand, thumb tracing along its ridge. A man. Goodness, a man. Gansey's heart ached something painful.

With the other, he carefully pressed his signet ring into the Phantom's hand. It was a simple ring. Golden, with a small circle with their family crest—the horns of an elk wrapped in vines. It was a precious piece of himself, the only thing he had inherited that had felt like it really was meant to belong to him.

But he didn't step away once he gave the Ghost his ring. Bowing his head, Gansey kissed the other man's palm, doing it without thinking. The Phantom's fingers felt cool against his lips. A thrill shot through him.

"I'll come back," he swore, stepping back and studying the Phantom once more. And then he was gone.