When he joined her a moment later, armed with thick blankets and a basket, she dropped the bag and kissed him square on the mouth. “This is perfect.” She said breathlessly.

He pulled back in surprise, not expecting her reaction. He smiled, “I’m glad.”

After settling their blankets and pouring two glasses of wine, Jonghyun gestured for a toast.

“To do things in order for a change.”

Seungyeon smiled and clinked her glass to his. After savoring a sip, she asked. “So, what’s on the menu?”

And so Jonghyun laid out the spread he had ordered, all going along with the theme of their location. Thankfully, the temperature-controlled bag had kept everything perfectly warm, and so the lobster bisque was still exceptionally hot. Paired with warm, rustic bread, a light mashed potatoes salad, and rosemary chicken --- everything was delicious.

Only Seungyeon could get him to eat on the beach, without a table or a proper chair. And he loved it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever gone on a picnic before,” she confessed after they had finished eating. They were now lying side by side on the blanket, with another wrapped around them. The air was chillier than it had been when they arrived, but the wind was still. But the mixture of Jonghyun’s warmth and the hot chocolate in the thermoses he had packed kept her nice and warm.

“Without all the city lights, the stars are so much brighter.”

“Brighter? How about actually there? I sometimes forget they even exist.” Jonghyun said laughing, while he pulled her close.

“So Jonghyun, any more surprises tonight?” Her head now resting on his shoulder, she tilted up to look him in the eyes.

“Actually,” he smiled. “There is.”

He slowly moved out from under the blanket, and Seungyeon gasped when the cold air hit her. After wrapping her up once more, he looked down on her. “Close your eyes.”

She heard him rustle in his pocket for his keys and frowned. He needed to get something from the car. The combination of him off the beach for a moment, mixed with her eyes closed in the pitch black, made her uneasy.

“Talk to me.” she called out.

Sensing her anxiety, he answered, “I’ll be right there. It’s only us.” He shut the car door loudly to signal this departure back to her.

Before she could demand when she could look, her eyes flew open in surprise at what she heard.

A guitar.

He continued playing as he walked, and didn’t stop even as he sat down. She couldn’t recognize the melody --- it almost sounded as if he were making the song up as he played. But that didn’t matter.

What mattered was the way his fingers moved. Those talented fingers. The same fingers that raked through her curls when they kissed, or made her moan with pleasure, or stirred the bowl of the world’s best oatmeal