Bailey lets the song sweep through him for as long as he feels the melody; he can already feel new blisters forming on his fingers, and his grin only widens at the sensation. His voice never wavers as the words spill from him, as though the water below him conjured their presence. The morning air chills him, even with his leather jacket, but he doesn't let that bother him. Not when he has a song to play.

He only turns around when he finishes, which is when he catches sight of Brigid, sitting nearby with her eyes closed. Warmth flushes through his cheeks when he realizes she must have been listening.

"Hello," he swings his guitar over his shoulder with a practiced ease, before joining her on the bench. She looks breathtaking in the morning light, and so he leans in and kisses her in greeting. "I take it you liked the song?"