Hold Me, and Give Me Pineapple

I just proposed-to Shawn

Lassiter's Perspective
It has been 5 days, and Carlton's fifth visit to the hospital. Some nights he even slept there, just watching Shawn slowly breathing. He looks weak now, not the same person who jumped into the kiss just a week ago. But it feels like a decade ago. The doctors say that he is holding up well, but it just isn't Shawn. Some of his hair has been shaved off for surgery, and now an ugly bandage covers his forehead.
"Shawn, please. It's been to long." Lassie says, holding Shawn's hand. "I'm so sorry I didn't ask you this before, but I guess I was just afraid." He scoffs, humph, Carlton Lassiter. Afraid? "But I can't live without you. The station is quite. We are all morning for you. I wish I could have done this so much earlier, I swear I'd do, but remember last week? We were talking about rings. What kind you would give your future wife, remember?" He smiles, wiping a single tear away. I have to be strong. Don't be a cry baby now. "I got you this." He says, pulling out a small satin box. "It's bronze, see? Cause you told me that you didn't want gold? Huh, I can't believe I'm saying this. It's not like you can hear me anyways. But, Shawn Spencer, I found that when you were with me, talking, I didn't want anyone other than you. So, will you pull through, please, so I can ask you one thing?" Lassiter places the box in the palm of Shawn's hand, closing his warm fingers around it, before kissing him on the white bandage and creeping out of the room and driving home.