The ring was beautiful.
It was a sterling silver band, with a turquoise in the center. Around the band, curling, intricate designs were weaved into it, with sapphires and emeralds inlaid around the curls. The centerpiece – the turquoise – was an oval, with brownish cracks running through the center. The turquoise was imperfect, but America thought that that was just what made it so amazing. It was a mix of blue and green, a sort of blue-green teal color that mixed America and England's eye colors perfectly and sent America's stomach into a violent explosion of butterflies. The cracks through the center were amazing – England would even call it symbolic. Even America could see the meaning of each of the cracks – tracing a finger over the stone, he talked softly to himself, engraving each of the memories in his mind – the Revolutionary War, the Anglo-American alliance, the start of their love, their first night together – all of the cracks had their own meaning to America, and he had looked up – or was it down? – into England's expectant eyes. He had uttered that one word that had brought so much happiness into their lives, that simple response that had brought even the stoic Britain to tears. And, America thinks, their story – their true lives together - had begun with that one word.
Yes.