He understood the painting at once, there was no question as to what it meant. He knew what his dream meant at once in the same way. They had been walking, him and her, and it didn't matter where because they were together and that feeling? That intense and simple feeling of being loved and loving in return. He got that. He wanted that and knew, with everything in him, that such a thing was meant to be for him.
He just didn't know when. Or with who.
We walk this road together, together, together.
Feeling stupid didn't hit Stephen often. He was an intelligent guy and maybe that made him seem a bit arrogant but now he was doubting his intellect. For the first time in a long time Stephen felt incredibly obtuse. He swallowed hard.
"That's me," he pointed again, cheeks burning bright. "I dreamt this. That's me, and if that's... if that's you... than this is supposed to be yours."
Stephen turned toward her a bit more and with his palm up he held out that small ring box.
"I was.. I was hoping you could clean it for me, s'why... why I brought it."
That sounded awful, worse than it did in his head but he couldn't stop rambling now. He felt light headed and so anxious that his back was tensing up.