They travelled to the outskirts of the city. Jieun stuck her hand out of the rolled-down window, feeling the wind trail between her fingers. It was so quiet here—no traffic or bustling noises—and greenery stretched as far as her eyes could see. Her fingers curled slightly, as if to hold it in the open space against her palm, before she pulled her hand back in. She turned to Wooyoung.

“Are we there yet?” She asked impishly.

“No.” He replied with exaggerated patience. The effect was ruined, though, by the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Almost.” He took her hand in his, bringing their clasped hands to rest on the console between them. Idly, he played with her fingers.

Five minutes later, they pulled up in a park. Jieun looked at Wooyoung, a question in her eyes.

“Picnic,” he responded with a grin, halfway out of the car. Rounding the back, he popped the trunk. From the space he retrieved a large picnic basket, arranged just so. Jieun had already gotten out as well; he shut the trunk, set the car alarm, and snagged her fingers with his. Hand-in-hand, they walked slowly, shoulders bumping occasionally. Wooyoung led them to the spot he had picked out the week before, an area surrounded by dogwood trees.  Lover’s Lane, it was called, for the picturesque scene presented by the snowy white blossoms that dotted the trees and the occasional petals that floated through the air. Jieun gaped, wide-eyed, as Wooyoung pulled her towards the shade of the largest tree. From the basket, he withdrew a large white blanket, which he shook out and placed on the ground. Wordlessly, he motioned for her to sit. They took their shoes off and sat in the middle of the blanket, his arm around her as they contemplated their surroundings. After a few minutes, she sighed and laid her head on his shoulder.

“This is a good place, Jason.” She tilted her head up from its resting place to smile up at him, her eyes sparkling. He smiled back and leaned down until their lips brushed softly for a fleeting moment. Jieun’s eyes closed anyway, as they did whenever he kissed her, and the familiarity of the bashful movement filled him with emotion.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” she whispered back.

They stayed that way for a while, and Wooyoung absorbed the peace that settled around them. It wrapped like balm around his heart, soothing.

The silence was broken by the gurgle of his stomach. Jieun laughed and poked him teasingly in the belly. “Didn’t you eat breakfast?”

“No. I was too nervous about our date today.” How could a girl not melt when her boyfriend said something like that?

Wooyoung continued. “Do you want to eat?”

She nodded her assent, and reluctantly moved her head from his shoulder. He reached for the basket at the corner of the blanket. From it emerged several heat- and/or chill-retaining containers. One held milk, another porridge purchased from the old shop. A third held egg-white omelettes with white button mushrooms. The last held…

“…Vanilla ice cream? Really?” She looked at him incredulously.

“What? It’s dessert.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her as she surveyed the meal laid before them on the picnic blanket. His dedication to the white theme even extended to lunch. It was rather sweet.

A sudden frown marred his brow. “It looks unappetizing, doesn’t it? All the white?”

“Well…” she hesitated, “It does look a little…bland.” She reached up to rub the space between his eyebrows. “But I’m sure it will taste wonderful.” His brow now unfurrowed, she moved her hand to cup his cheek. “Thank you putting in so much effort. I’m being spoiled rotten by you.”

He turned his face to place a kiss in the center of her palm. “Not possible. Let’s eat.”

The omelettes were fluffy, the porridge perfectly seasoned, the milk rich and the ice cream smooth, proving his fears unfounded. They sat, contented.

“What do you want to do now?” Wooyoung asked. “Leave or stay the afternoon?”

“Could we just stay? Talk?” She asked, lulled by the gentle quiet and a full stomach.

So they talked. She secretly wanted to have twins. He knew he was going to be an overprotective father. She broke a CD case when she was seven and blamed it on her cousin. He hated asparagus. She wanted to learn film. He used to be convinced that he’d become a power ranger when he grew up. She was awful at darts, but played a mean poker game. He could dance a polka, and carrots made him sick. She had her eyebrows shaven off by her best friend when they were nine. He hated all of Shakespeare’s tragedies. They spoke of shoes and ships and sealing wax and cabbages and kings, hopes and dreams and fears and thoughts and memories that all blended into each other meaninglessly, meaningfully. In this way, two hours passed. Jieun fell asleep first, lashes dark against her cheekbones and breaths measured and even. Wooyoung lay on his back beside her, head turned to watch her sleep. He thought about love and life and her and him and a million different things under the sun before finally sliding into slumber.