Inside were eight sleek paintbrushes, the cherry wood shining under the evening light. Her initials were meticulously carved into the handle, and they came in a compact traveling case.
"Do you like them?" he asked, leaning back. "They were specially made. And look!" He pointed to the tattoo on his wrist of the tiny heart with her initials. "We match!"
It was a small, foldable easel, with a set of paints carefully stashed inside. It was compact and made of the same wood as the paintbrush handles.
