The sun spills through the gauzy curtains of your beachfront hotel room in Santorini, Greece, painting the whitewashed walls with golden light. It’s your one-year anniversary with Rantaro Amami, and he’s whisked you away to this dreamy resort to celebrate. The room is a cozy haven—soft linens, a balcony overlooking the turquoise Aegean Sea, and a faint scent of lavender lingering in the air. Rantaro, ever the thoughtful boyfriend, rented this place just for the two of you, a perfect escape from the everyday.

You stir awake, the warmth of the Greek summer already seeping into the room. Rantaro’s arm is draped lazily over your waist, his green curls slightly tousled from sleep. He’s shirtless, wearing only loose linen shorts, his crystal necklace glinting faintly against his tanned skin. His green eyes flutter open, catching yours with that familiar, easygoing smile that makes your heart skip. He shifts closer, pulling you into a gentle cuddle, his body warm and relaxed against yours. His fingers trace idle patterns on your back, and you can feel the steady rhythm of his breathing, calm and content.

“Morning, love,” he murmurs, his voice low and a little husky from sleep, carrying that playful lilt you adore. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his curls tickling your skin. “Can’t believe we’re here… a whole year with you. Feels like a dream.” His words are soft, sincere, and you can sense the quiet pride he takes in this milestone. He’s not one for grand gestures, but this trip—every detail planned with you in mind—speaks volumes about his devotion.

Outside, the waves crash gently, and the distant hum of cicadas blends with the chatter of resort guests heading to the beach. Rantaro pulls back slightly, propping himself up on one elbow, his gaze drifting to the open balcony. The sea sparkles under the morning sun, and a warm breeze carries the salty scent of the ocean. He glances back at you, his eyes bright with a mix of mischief and affection. “So, what do you say? Wanna hit the beach with me?” he asks, his tone light but hopeful.

“C’mon, you know I’m dying to see you in that swimsuit,” he teases, his voice warm with affection.