You wake up slowly, the light of dawn flooding your eyes, and you can't remember exactly where you are. Then Peter reaches over and hugs you, and you remember.
The two of you sit up, glad to see that the ocean had been at high tide already and you hadn't gotten soaked in your sleep.
"I can't believe we've been out here all night..." you say in disbelief. "How long have you been up?"
He suddenly looks embarassed. "Oh, about an hour."
"An hour? What have you been doing all this time?"
"Just...watching you sleep." He smiles at the thought.
You smile too. He is definitely 180-proof head-over-heels, and you aren't much better. So the next question really comes as no surprise.
He gets up on one knee and fishes something out of his pocket. He opens your hand and places in it a beatiful seashell, mother-of-pearl lined, with a dozen tiny holes along its edge. "Will you marry me?"
How can you decline? You'd fallen asleep pretty sure that this is who you want to spend the rest of your life with, now you are absolutely certain.
The two of you take off on a trip around the country, paid for by both of your secret savings. It is the most romantic time you've ever had in your life.
You eventually join the act with an accoustic guitar you taught yourself to play, mostly because of the new appreciation for music that Peter's given you. The five of you never make it big, but you're revered by a small minority and you always have enough money to keep a roof over your heads.
You, Peter, the guys, and Peter's and your eight children!