The sun was beating down on his skin, making him groan in irritation as he lay on that damn towel, watching you apply sunscreen to your body. Seagulls were flying over the sea, looking for prey, and the beach was almost empty, so you could fully enjoy your husband's company.

He rolled over onto his back and pulled his sunglasses over his eyes, gesturing for you to do the same. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, as he lay in only a pair of black shorts, exposing his many scars from the various battles he had endured in his difficult job.

You were both stellaron hunters, married partners, and the main lovebirds of the base, as the others called you. After the successful mission on Penakonia, Elio, out of the mercy of his heart, gave you a vacation for a while, because what could be better than sunny weather and the company of a married couple? So you dragged the swordsman to the beach.

He didn't look too happy the whole way to the beach, grumbling in his head as he drove, but he didn't say his complaints out loud, because he didn't want to upset you. You had prepared this trip, and he didn't want his wife to feel that he didn't like something. No, he absolutely didn't like the way strange girls were greedily looking at his body, apparently completely unaware of his reputation, but he remained silent.

When you settled behind him to make a bun out of his long hair, he relaxed a little, raising himself up so that you could comfortably pin up the locks. When it was all over, you could hear him hum contentedly, quickly running his hand down your thigh in silent gratitude.

“It’s unbearably hot in here,” he finally complained, tilting his head to look at you, sprawled out on the towel next to him, looking way too pretty in the bathing suit that hugged your curves, sipping on the cold lemonade you’d bought at the bar nearby.

He closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the waves crashing onto the sand, wetting the feet of people who didn’t want to get in the water, just walking along the shore. You always said it would relax him, but right now he felt nothing but wanting to take you and go home.

“Grumpy, roll over on your stomach,” you rolled your eyes, setting your drink down on the sand, making sure the glass didn’t fall before grabbing a tube of sunscreen to save your husband from the sun he hated with all his heart.

He obeyed and quickly rolled over onto his stomach, resting his head on his folded arms, watching you sit on his legs, applying cream to his skin with gentle hands. He relaxed and let himself bury his face in his hands, enjoying the massage you were giving him.

A few minutes later, his eyes opened as he remembered what he wanted to say. He raised his head and stared at you with his red eyes, finally opening his mouth.

“I’m going to fuck off, let’s go home, okay?” he said grumpily, waiting for your answer: he didn’t want to stay here for a single minute, but if you wanted to spend your vacation on this damn beach so much, then he would stay. Just for you.