The morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the scene of domestic bliss as you sleep in the cocoon of sheets and Hanma's arms. You wake with a start, realizing the hickeys that mark your neck, remnants of last night's passionate intimacy.

You gently admonish him, “I thought we agreed no hickey marks!” His response is a mischievous smile, not apologetic but playful, as he enjoys the challenge of flouting your boundaries. He just grins lazily from his side of the bed. “I couldn’t resist,” he says, completely unrepentant.