Wet

The blanket is damp.

And so is your mood and feelings.

You don't say anything at first — just standing there, staring at the now sad and ruined little picnic spread you'd set up two hours ago, now slightly ruined by the surprise (not really a surprise the news did say it was gonna rain but you didn’t listen to it.) drizzle that rolled in from nowhere. The cupcakes have soggy bottoms. 

The fairy lights you'd strung between two sticks (two twigs you found on the ground, because you forgot to bring poles) are flickering like they're about to give up on life. The sunset you'd planned everything around is completely swallowed by the grey clouds.

You turn to Sooyoung.

She's already looking at you.

"Surprise…?" You forced a smile. "Happy birthday…?" 

There's a beat of silence.

Then Sooyoung, your Sooyoung and Yves, by many people — the most beautiful person you have ever seen in your entire life, — throws her head back and laughs. Full and bright and unrestrained, the kind of laugh she saves for when she's really, genuinely delighted, and it scatters into the open park air like something you want to catch and keep forever.

It cheered you up.

"The lights are dying," she wheezes.

"They're flickering," you correct, with dignity. "It's ambiance. Like it’s good lighting look at it"

"The blanket is wet."

"It adds texture."

She looks at the cupcakes. You wince and gulped.

"...Are those supposed to have that many wrinkles?"

"The rain gave them character."

She laughs again, softer this time, and closes the space between you in two easy steps. Her hands caress your cheeks, and she tilts your chin up until you're looking at her properly.

"You are," she says, eyes warm and fond and devastating, "such a…."

"Loser?"

"I was gonna say quirky but also yes."

"I know," you admit, looking back down in which she tilted your head back. "I'm really sorry about your birthday."

"I'm not."

You blink. "The sunset is gone, Sooyoung."

"I see a sunset."

"There are clouds —"

"I mean you," she says simply.

You were quiet for a good minute, just staring at her, before she laughed again.

You've been dating her for a year and she still does this to you. Just dismantle you. With her stupidly attractive eyes and her annoyingly soothing voice and the way she says things that should sound cheesy but land like she means every single syllable all the way down to her bones.

"That was smooth," you manage.

"I know."

"I hate you."

"I love you too."

She pulls you down onto the damp blanket anyway, completely unbothered, and picks up one of the sad wrinkly cupcakes and takes a bite. You watch her. She catches you watching and grins, frosting at the corner of her mouth.

"It's good," she declares.

"It's soggy."

"It has character." She repeated with the same tone you used earlier.

You hide your face in her shoulder and feel her laugh vibrate against you, her arm coming around to pull you closer, and the flickering fairy lights cast this soft, stupid, imperfect glow over the two of you and the ruined picnic and the cloudy sky where a sunset should have been.

She presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"Best birthday ever," she murmurs into your hair.

"You aren’t getting pussy tonight stop being sweet. It’s not working." It is.

"I’m serious baby." A pause. "Although next year maybe double check the weather app."

"Sooyoungie —"

Her laughter is the best sound in the world.

You eat soggy cupcakes together until it gets dark, and she talks and talks and you listen, and somewhere along the way you stop being embarrassed about the ruined date and start just being here — warm and a little damp and completely, stupidly in love with Ha Sooyoung, who is in love with you back, loser tendencies and all.

The fairy lights gave out around 8pm.

You both stayed there until 10pm.

You both get a fever the next day.

Sooyoung won’t let go of you when you try to get up.