Minho eased his uncle's car to a stop in the parking lot of the restaurant. The moment the building came into sight, all he saw was the image of the young woman standing outside the door, waiting for him. Even before he could get a proper look at her, he was smitten. He was sure, that no matter what, she was perfect.

He grabbed the bouquet of flowers from the passenger side of the car and stepped out, approaching the young waitress.

She stood there with her hands together, looking as meek and as awkward as ever. The usual restaurant uniform he was used to seeing her wear was exchanged for a yellow dress. It stopped just above her knees, showing off the black tights she wore beneath. Her arms were covered with a thin black cardigan and her shoulders were covered by the long strands of hair he had never seen free. She always wore it in that cute, messy bun.

With the pair of simple black heels, she was nearly his height, but he didn't mind. That slight masculinity she had was what made him like her. She wasn't perfect - but she was perfect for him.

"You look beautiful," he said, completely enamored.

She bashfully averted her eyes and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Thank you."

He held out the bouquet of flowers to her, and she rested her bag over her shoulder before taking them from him. She thanked him again and he led her to the door of his car, opening it for her.

She looked awkward, almost uncomfortable, as she went inside. He quickly rushed back to the driver's side and was soon pulling out of the parking lot, stealing glances at her the entire time.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her deep voice unsteady, despite her best efforts to try and sound relaxed.

"Into the city," he replied. They were headed for the highway, leaving the smaller town behind. He noticed her shifting in her seat, uncomfortably switching the flowers from one hand to the other. He had hoped the easy listening station he had put on the radio would set a nice atmosphere for the ride, but she looked completely anxiety-ridden.

"Are you alright?" he asked calmly, keeping his eyes on the road.

"I'm fine," she said, though her tone wasn't very convincing. "But to be honest...I've never been on a date before. Ever."

"Really?" He was pleasantly surprised.

"I'm just a little nervous."

"You don't have to be. I'll bring you back home, safe and sound. I promise."

She smiled softly, turning her attention out the window. "I know." She crossed her legs to get comfortable, and Minho took his eyes off the road long enough just to steal a glance.

Perfect.

"Have you lived in town long?" he asked, striking up a conversation. Taeyeon shrugged, keeping her eyes on her spaghetti as she twirled it around her fork.

"Almost five years," she answered, "It was...more affordable than the last town we lived in." The way she explained it, she sounded ashamed, but there was no way Minho could think anything less of her. "What about you?" she asked, quickly changing the subject, "Why did you move to town?"

He smiled at the humor of the situation. "My father wanted to get rid of me for a while."

"Really?"

He shrugged. "I think he thought I was regressing or something. After finishing school, I just wanted to take a break and enjoy myself, you know? But I think me hanging around was just starting to annoy him. So he sent me here, to live with my uncle."

"Oh, so you live with your uncle," she said, finding that fact interesting.

"Yeah. He's good. A lot less uptight than my dad."

"So you don't work now, I take it? Having just moved into town?" she inquired.

"No, not right now," he admitted, feeling a bit lame at revealing that fact. Here a girl who was three years younger than him already had more working experience than he did. "My father intends to send me to business school once I get back. After all, someone's got to inherit the company after he...retires...or dies...whichever comes first."

"Hopefully the first one," she said with a relaxed smile, taking a big mouthful of her pasta. Minho watched her affectionately, overcome with the simple way she devoured her food with a child-like manner. She had finally relaxed after they sat down and ordered their meals.

"What's your family like?" he asked, before deciding he should really start eating from his entree.

"I live with my mom," she answered, "My father died about six years ago, so it's just the two of us."

"I take it she's where you got all your beauty from."

Taeyeon laughed around her mouthful of food, then stared at him strangely. She shook her head as she wiped with the napkin. "She's way more beautiful than I am."

"I wouldn't think that's possible," he replied, watching her intently.

The amused smile quickly felt and was replaced by one of discomfort. She cleared awkwardly. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Why's it so hard for you to believe me? Hasn't anyone ever told you're beautiful before?"

"Oh Jonghyun tells me all the time."

Minho shrugged, "Well he's not wrong."

"But he doesn't know what he's talking about either," she replied, oddly serious.

Minho thought it was a shame. How could someone so perfect not realize how beautiful she was? He didn't want to sound like he was being phony, so he didn't to argue more over the subject. A moment of silence came between them as he reached for another breadstick, then offered her the basket and the last one that was left in it.

She took it without hesitation. That was her third. The other two she scarfed down before her pasta was even there, and that was after their salad was served. She continued to eat with the same vigor as when she started. Minho had never seen a girl eat with such abandon before. It was refreshing.

He went a long moment of staring at her without realizing. He quickly turned his attention back to his ravioli, but as he ate, he kept stealing glances.

Perfect.