When Jong Kook opened his eyes and glanced around the bedroom, he saw Jennifer sitting in the corner, wearing only his shirt that she had pulled off him the night before. She was drawing in a sketchpad, and when she looked at him and saw that he was awake, she suddenly blushed and told him not to move.

“I’m almost done,” she said. “Hold on…”

His arm had been folded behind his head, and it had grown numb overnight. He asked if he could move it but she begged him not to. “Just wait one minute,” she said. “I just need to finish shading this part.”

He closed his eyes, waiting for her to finish. As he did, he thought about their conversation the night before, about the future, about children. He smiled.

When she was done, she jumped into bed with him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But you looked too beautiful this morning and I couldn’t help myself.” She showed him the drawing and he was astonished by how realistic the sketch of him looked, as if she had just taken a snapshot. “This is my favorite part,” she said, tracing her finger over the part where she had drawn his arm. “That bicep, all flexed like that…” She smiled and then leaned over to kiss his muscles. “You’re so gorgeous,” she said, kissing him some more.

“It’s my turn,” he said, stealing the pencil from her hand.

“Oh? You can draw?”

He shrugged. “A little,” he said. He walked over to the chair in the corner and told her to lie back on the bed. He looked at her for a moment, the way his shirt hung over her s, stopping just below her hips and exposing her bare legs.

“I believe you are blushing, Mr. Big Artiste,” she said.

He laughed, recalling the scene in Titanic that she was quoting. “I’m not drawing a landscape,” he said, smiling. As he began his sketch, he told her that they should have another mo