Marry me

The man and woman stand facing each other in the warmly lit art gallery, surrounded by golden-framed paintings. They are mid-conversation — her hands clasped in front of her, his hands in his pockets, both gazing at each other softly. Then the man's expression shifts — something quiet and certain crosses his face. He slowly removes his right hand from his pocket. Pauses one breath. Then deliberately lowers himself onto one knee — steady, unhurried, eyes never leaving hers. His left hand reaches into his front pocket and draws out a small velvet ring box. He holds it up gently with both hands and opens it — a ring catching the warm gallery light. He looks up at her from below, expression open and completely certain. Her hands slowly unclasp. She brings them to her lips. Her eyes fill. The golden paintings glow warmly around them. The gallery is completely still. Slow motion on the moment he opens the box. Warm amber cinematic light throughout. Shallow depth of field — the couple razor sharp, paintings softly blurred behind them.