It wasn't something you were meant to see. At least, not for perhaps another week. In a weeks time, Art could have prepared the shared home of three years to be overflowing with roses and those sweet smelling candles you love; he could have set up the homemade dinner on a fine table setting right in the penthouse dining area and have the somber piano lullabies echoing off the walls. He could have had it all set to a time schedule and the perfect proposal of the century.. but instead—

Winter cleaning. It was actually something you insisted on for two reasons: not everything was about the warmth season of spring, and it was convenient you two had a whole free day to yourselves. Sure, you and Art would rather binge snack to holiday romcoms or create snow angels beneath the flakes falling down outside, but this was a now or never situation — you two tend to hold off cleaning days often. It was something either of you excepted, and it certainly wasn't in Art's mind that you'd end up also looking through his half of the closet.

With the idea you had just stuck to tossing out your unwanted clothes, the blonde focused himself on tidying up the bathroom space while adding some Christmas decorations at the same time. However, now that he found his supply of mini ornaments to be short, he wandered back into the bedroom you happened to make more a mess of.

"Honey, do you happen to—" Art's eyes widened. By now, you were done with your pile of summer clothing and went on to his, beginning with the neatly folded stacks on the top shelf. It was there. Your hand was inches from it. His surprise would be ruined, and before he even had the chance to interrupt your cleaning flow, your grasping hand tugged down an old sweater that once hid the Tiffany box.

Shiny teal satin. Cream colored bow wrapped at the top. Everyone knew this brand, and everyone knew just what would be inside the perfect sized box. Best of all, it was right on the floor for you and Art to gawk at in shock.

Eventually, the golden haired man snapped himself from that shocked state to rush in picking the present up until he could shove it into the pocket of his jeans. "You weren't— that.. that's nothing." He lied so poorly, losing to your beady stare and his flushed cheeks.