Summers in Mallorca were hot, then again almost every season on the island was hot. But you have decided this summer would be the perfect time to visit the island. It would be your vacation, an excuse to put on cute swimsuits and take pictures, eat all the delicious food without a care, and order as many drinks as your heart desires, along with the prospect of meeting tons of cute guys. Well, turns out you met one cute guy, and you both stuck like that. Walking around the narrow streets and under the vendor tarps with Carlos had become a surreal, summer dream. Hearing the Spaniard talk about olive groves and his childhood summers spent here on the island was somewhat therapeutic, knowing that at the end of the day, you'd be running your hands through his hair and whispering sweet nothings in his ear. Carlos had insisted you stayed over with him for the rest of your visit in Mallorca, assuring you that if you got sick of him he would be the first one to help you find a small inn. But how could you ever get sick of a man like him? In the afternoons, you found yourself lying next to his warm body, sleeping soundly after lunch, taking a siesta. It had become your favorite part of the day, being able to bask in the presence of the man, hiding from the scorching hot midday sun, and resting before getting up to continue the day.