[Perspective: Aryan Spencer]
I woke up to the sensation of being entirely trapped.
The heavy duvet of our suite at the Hotel was tangled around my legs, but the real weight holding me down was Wanda.
She was draped across my chest, her cheek resting against my collarbone, her breathing a slow rhythm.
I lay there, soaking in the quiet of the morning.
I shifted my right arm, bringing it up to wrap securely around her waist, my hand resting against the curve.
I felt her stir slightly, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she let out a soft hum, snuggling closer, burying her face into my neck.
I opened my eyes. I looked down at her. Her auburn hair was a messy halo across my pillow.
I moved my head just enough to press my lips against the soft skin of her bare shoulder.
Wanda shivered, a small smile touching her lips, though she kept her eyes firmly closed.
"Good morning," I murmured, pressing another kiss to her collarbone.
She didn't answer, just tightened her grip on my torso, her fingers curling into my t-shirt.
"I know you're awake," I whispered, my lips brushing against the shell of her ear.
She let out a soft sigh, opening one eye to look at me. "I was attempting to ignore the morning."
"The morning is beautiful," I countered, shifting my weight so I was leaning over her slightly. "And so are you."
Before she could form a witty reply, I leaned down and bit her.
"Hey!" Wanda gasped, her eyes flying open as she swatted my shoulder. "What are you doing?"
"You can't blame me," I laughed, dodging her hand. "You look incredibly tasty. It was a biological imperative."
"Stop saying things like that," she groaned, burying her face back into the pillow, though I could see the bright red flush spreading across her neck.
I reached down and scooped her up into my arms, hauling her entirely out of the bed in one swift motion.
"Aryan!" she squeaked, grabbing my shoulders for balance as her legs dangled over my arm. "What are you doing?"
"We are going to take a bath," I announced, marching toward the massive marble en suite. "We have a city to explore, and I refuse to let you sleep the day away. The Czechs are waiting for us to eat their carbohydrates."
Wanda laughed, resting her head against my chest as I carried her. "You are very demanding before coffee."
"I am a man of action," I corrected, setting her down gently on the bath mat.
The morning routine was a familiar dance.
We brushed our teeth side by side. We showered quickly, the hot water washing away the lingering sleep.
When we stepped back into the bedroom, I walked over to my suitcase, pulling out a fresh pair of dark pants, a white button down shirt and a blazer.
Wanda was standing by the mirror, running a brush through her hair. She was wearing an elegant red sundress that flared at the waist.
"Here," she said, turning around and holding something out to me.
I blinked. It was a classic brimmed fedora hat, made of dark brown felt.
"A hat?" I asked, taking it from her.
"I bought it yesterday evening," she explained. "And I bought a matching one for myself."
She reached onto the dresser and picked up an identical hat, placing it on her head.
The dark brown felt contrasted beautifully with her bright red dress and auburn hair.
"What a surprise," I laughed, placing my hat on my head and adjusting the brim. "We are officially coordinated tourists. Next, we will be wearing matching fanny packs."
"Do not give me ideas," she warned, picking up the room phone. "I am ordering breakfast. What do you want?"
"Anything you like," I said honestly. "And espresso. Lots of it."
Room service arrived quickly, delivering a spread of fresh pastries, fruit, and strong coffee.
We ate at the small table by the window.
"Alright," I said, wiping my mouth with a linen napkin. "Let's go. It's time to be a tourist in Prague. Those statues aren't going to photograph themselves, and I have a reputation as a world class sightseer to maintain."
Wanda laughed, grabbing her hat.
We headed downstairs to the parking lot.
I stepped ahead, clicking the fob to unlock the vehicle. I gripped the handle and pulled the door open for her, extending my other hand.
"Your carriage, my Queen," I murmured.
Wanda smiled, her eyes bright with affection as she took my hand, using the support to slide gracefully into the leather passenger seat.
I waited until her red skirt was safely tucked inside before gently clicking the door shut.
I rounded the hood, slipped into the driver's seat, and brought the engine to a purr.
"Where to first, tour guide?" Wanda asked from the passenger seat as I merged onto the highway leading toward the city center.
"The Charles Bridge," I replied. "It is the heart of Prague."
I drove us into the city, finding a secure parking garage a few blocks from the river.
We walked the rest of the way, the cobblestone streets echoing with the sounds of tourists and street musicians.
As we approached the entrance to the bridge, the massive stone towers loomed overhead, casting long shadows across the pavement.
"This is it," I said, offering her my arm.
She looped hers through mine, and we stepped onto the bridge.
The bridge was crowded, but the sheer scale of the architecture made it feel expansive.
Massive statues lined both sides of the stone balustrades, standing like silent guardians over the river below.
"The Charles Bridge," I began, adopting my best 'tour guide' voice as we walked slowly past a street artist sketching a caricature. "Construction started in 1357 under the auspices of King Charles IV. It was the most important connection between Prague Castle and the city's Old Town."
Wanda looked up at me, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "So, you also have a masters in history?"
"Well," I said, puffing my chest out slightly. "I master in a lot of things. If you ask me politely, I can tell you everything about anything."
"Stop," she laughed, swatting my arm lightly.
"It is true," I grinned. "But please, allow me to continue my historical exposition."
I pointed toward the opposite end of the bridge. "This bridge connects two different towns. For centuries, it was the only means of crossing the river. It is often used as a metaphor for connecting two lives, bringing two distinct worlds together across turbulent waters."
Wanda stopped walking, turning to look at me, her eyes softening. "Wow. That is very romantic, Aryan."
"I know, right?" I smiled, pulling her slightly closer. "It is also a very popular place for couples to propose. Mostly only in the morning or late at night, because that is when it is quiet and romantic. Right now, it is noon, so it is just hot and crowded. Haha."
Wanda also laughed, shaking her head. "You ruin your own romance."
"I am a realist," I defended. "Now, let's get some pictures together, if I may?"
"Yes," she agreed, adjusting her matching fedora.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, switching it to the front facing camera.
We took a dozen selfies, framing ourselves against the ancient statues and the sparkling river in the background.
As we were reviewing the photos, a small voice interrupted us.
"Koupíte si růži pro paní?" (Will you buy a rose for the lady?)