He knocked on her door at five forty-five. “Wear a dress,” he had said when he called an hour earlier. He’d refused to explain why, but it seemed likely that they were going to a nice restaurant, so she had dressed accordingly. Looking at him, she thought about how unfair it was. She had put on an entirely different outfit and changed her hair and makeup, while he had simply added a silver suit jacket to the clothes he had been wearing that afternoon. He still managed to look as if he’d just stepped out of a GQ ad.

“Why is it,” she cocked her head, “that you barely have to dress up and you still look like you’re ready to meet the President?”

He laughed. “I don’t know? But you look beautiful.”

She looked down at her feet and smiled shyly. “Thank you. It’s a new dress.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. Here.” He handed her a bouquet of white roses.

“More flowers?” She arched a brow.

“What, you don’t like them?” He mimed hurt.

“No, I love them!” She said hurriedly. “It’s just a lot of flowers…”

“Accept them with grace, Pilsukie.” He said it teasingly.

“Araso.” Looking around, she said, “But I don’t think I have anyplace to put them now.” She decided to just leave them in the kitchen sink for the time being.

Accepting Wooyoung’s outstretched hand, she was escorted outside, where she was met with the sight of…a carriage?

It looked like something out of a fairy tale, a gleaming ivory carriage drawn by a pair of stately horses.

“Wooyoung…” She gaped. “Isn’t this too overboard?”

“No.” He pulled her from her stock-still shock, handing her in and following her up. Swinging onto the bench beside her, he continued, “It’s our first White Day. I wanted it to be memorable.”

“I…” She was still at a loss for words. Latching onto what thoughts she had, she blurted, “This isn’t our first White Day.”

“Well,” he said patiently, “It’s our first White Day together. And it needs to be special.”

She reached for his hand. “It’s special just being able to spend the day with you. But…thank you for putting so much effort into this.” She snuggled her head into his shoulder. “It’s spectacular.”

They rode in a comfortable silence, his thumb rubbing circles on her hand. The bench was richly cushioned, with upholstery that felt like velvet. Through the open window, she could see the rich colors of the darkening sky. When the horses stopped, Wooyoung got off first and handed her down. Jieun looked around breathlessly.

“Another park?” she teased.

He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I think parks are romantic.” Was that a blush on his cheeks? Could it be possible? Before she had a chance to rib him about it, he pulled her to him and hugged her. Surprised, she hesitated before wrapping her arms around his neck. They stayed like that for a while, and she breathed in his clean Wooyoung smell. When they separated, he picked up her hand again.

He led her to a glass-enclosed gazebo. Inside was a small circular table covered with a crisp lacy tablecloth, flanked by two chairs. Three long candles sat in the middle of the table, flickering brightly. Wound all around the perimeter and the ceiling of the room were strings and strings of twinkle lights.

She seemed to be spending an inordinate amount of time being speechless today. It felt as if she’d stepped back in time into a fairytale. Wooyoung pulled out her chair for her. She barely remembered sitting down, concentrating on taking in the designs on the tablecloth, the patterns on the china, the carnation set next to her cutlery.

Her racing thoughts calmed just in time for the first course, steaming soup. She sipped at it, blowing at her spoon softly to cool it down.

 Wooyoung broke the silence first. “What did you do this afternoon?”

She told him about the song she had revised. He told her about s’ latest antics, and the trouble he was having learning the piano. They talked about the books they were reading—Pride and Prejudice and A Tale of Two Cities—and the true nature of happiness. She told him about the new boyband she had found, and how cute the guitar player was—not nearly as handsome as Wooyoung, though, she assured the man in question. He told her about Victoria’s latest exploits, and how Nichkhun was going crazy—that boy needed to stop being so stubborn and see what was in front of him. In this way, they finished off a plate of fish with cauliflower and moved to dessert—cheesecake with sparkling cider.

“You have a way,” Jieun commented, “Of feeding me until I feel exceptionally fat and lazy.” She put a hand over her stomach.

“Do you need to rest, then?” A distinctly mischievous look came over his face.

“Before what?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“Surprise.” Cheeky. So cheeky.

She continued to scrutinize him for a few moments. He came over to stand by her chair. She took his proffered hand and slowly conceded to his secrecy. “Okay.”

He led her back to the carriage. “One last stop,” he said before handing her up.

She wondered where they were going. After Wooyoung got in and the horses began to trot again, she grinned. “It’s a wonder no one is outside staring at us.”

“Lucky, isn’t it?” he remarked. “Almost as if I got someone to make sure the road would be empty today.” His lips quirked.

She gave him a confused look.

“Chagiya, how do you think I would have ensured the safety of a horse-drawn carriage on a street full of cars?”

“Oh.” She blushed. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

An unreadable look came over his face, and he bent down, smile fading, to kiss her softly. She sighed into the kiss, hands coming up to find purchase on his arms. His lips moved gently on hers. It was so much nicer to have a boyfriend who was in Korea and not on tour…He pulled away reluctantly, giving her a series of soft, sipping kisses to soften their parting. “We’re here.”

She refused to open her eyes, instead curling into his chest. “Mmm…”

“Chagiya…” He kissed her hair before setting her away from him. “Come on. I’ve got a surprise for you.” He held up a blindfold.

She looked at him inquisitively before closing her eyes, acquiescing. He tied it gently, careful not to muss her hair. This done, he jumped lightly from the carriage and lifted her down.

“I hope you realize,” she said conversationally, “That I have absolutely no coordination when blindfolded. Wherever you’re taking me needs to be about five steps away, unless you want to take half an hour to get there.”

“Not worried,” he replied. “Watch your step.”

She floundered, her grip on his hands tightening as she lifted her right foot, trying to locate the irregularity in the ground in front of her. Her toes touched down carefully, only to find that the ground was completely level. “Wooyoung!” She scolded.

He was laughing. “Just checking to see how much you trust me. And to see if your blindfold works.”

“Well, I do and it does.” She said grouchily. “Now will you please guide me properly?”

He leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “You ruin all the fun.”

She swatted him away.

“You would have done the same to me.” He had leaned in again. “Admit it.”

She thought about how silly she must have looked, blindfolded, leg raised inordinately high, taking twenty seconds too long to take a step. Then she imagined Wooyoung doing the same. The grin twitched at the corners of before she determinedly held it back. “No.”

Eight more steps. “Okay, this is a real stair.” He helped her up, led her three steps in.

His hands let go of hers and repositioned themselves at the knot at the back of her head. “Ready?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said impatiently.

The blindfold fell away from her eyes, and she was greeted with the sight of a mannequin in a dress. It looked familiar, and she tilted her head as she considered the ivory folds. Her mother’s wedding dress? She turned to look at Wooyoung, eyes growing impossibly wide as she found him on one knee behind her.

Looking up at her astonished face, he smiled self-deprecatingly. “White flowers, white food, white outfit…even the ring box is white. Cheesy, right?”

She still didn’t respond, all huge brown eyes as she looked down at him.

He looked up at her, solemn now. “Come live with me and be my Love/And we will all the pleasures prove/That hills and valleys, dale and field/And all the craggy mountains yield.” Christopher Marlowe. She was completely overwhelmed, and he was quoting Christopher Marlowe. It was such a silly contrast that she wanted to laugh. He continued.“Jieun...I love you. Will you marry me?”

It was a simple proposal, not dressed up with pretty words or compliments. And it was perfect. He looked so wonderful, so earnest and handsome. Her heart felt full near to bursting.

“Yes.” Her smile was watery. She laughed, happy down to her bones.

He stood up. Carefully, he slid the ring onto her fourth finger. It slipped into place, and Jieun barely had time to wiggle her fingers and feel the new weight before Wooyoung lifted her off her feet and spun her around. Half screaming and half giggling, she held onto his shoulders for dear life. When he finally stopped and set her down, it was to kiss her.

“I love you.” He mumbled against her lips, unwilling to move any farther away.

“I love you, too.” She whispered back. He kissed her again, then withdrew. Gathering her up in his arms, he began to waltz them around the room. She couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled out of her. “What are you doing?”

“Dancing with you.” He hummed an indistinguishable melody under his breath, one-two-three-ing them around the room. They halted in front of the mannequin. “Your mother’s wedding dress and my mother’s tiara and veil. Do you like it?”

Her eyes misted as she nodded. “Perfect.”

He started to dance them around again. “Happy White Day, Jieun.”

She settled against his shoulder. “Happy White Day, Wooyoung.”