The wedding rings were welded wires from the place they build machines together. They were art, beautiful art, the same way the couple were.
The new gold rings weren't gold at all yet they were stunning works of art all the same, some minimalist, others ornate, yet each of them were a symbol of a kind of beauty man can only touch with his heart.
She'd always suited silver best, the cooler complexions of this world do, along with clothes in blues and greens - and so it was little wonder that she chose a wedding ring of white gold.
The rings suited the way they were as a couple, practical yet with an eye for clean styling. Each of them had a broad platinum band to the edges where they met a brilliant stripe of gold.
The wedding rings were the perfect blend of elegance and craftsmanship, a band of rose gold in the platinum.
Upon her finger was a simple wedding band, an elegant platinum thing. It curved as three strands woven, almost as if they had grown together over time.
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