Zayne held Nana's hand as they walked back along the beach path, resort lights twinkling around them.
*Please forget. Please forget about french kissing. Please forget about honeymoon activities. Please just want to sleep. Please—*
"Zayne!" Nana bounced excitedly. "Can we watch K-dramas tonight?! I downloaded episodes! And video call Mina and Jisu! They want to see the hotel!"
*K-dramas. Video calls. NOT honeymoon activities.*
*Thank god. Thank everything. Reprieve. Temporary reprieve.*
"Sure," he said, perhaps too enthusiastically. "K-drama night. Great idea. Very appropriate. Fully clothed activity."
"What?"
"Nothing. Let's watch dramas."
*I've been given a stay of execution. Movie night. Safe. Innocent. I can handle movie night.*
While Nana disappeared into the bathroom ("I'm going to play with the bubbles! They have SO MANY!"), Zayne called room service.
"Yes, I'd like to order—" he scanned the menu, "—fruit platter, cheese board, various snacks, maybe some dessert—"
*Sustenance. Food. Safe activities. Movie marathon. This is fine.*
"—and could you bring it in about thirty minutes? Thank you."
He hung up, feeling oddly relieved.
*Movie night. Just movies. Nothing else. I can survive movies.*
From the bathroom, he heard splashing and Nana giggling.
*She's playing with bubbles. Like a child. This is good. Innocent. Safe.*
His phone buzzed. Room service confirming the order.
*Perfect. Food arriving soon. Movies ready. Everything under control—*
"ZAYNE!" Nana's voice called from the bathroom.
*What now.*
"Yes, hamster?"
"I FORGOT MY UNDERWEAR!"
Time stopped.
Zayne choked on absolutely nothing—just air, just the concept of underwear, just—
*UNDERWEAR. SHE FORGOT UNDERWEAR. WHICH MEANS SHE'S IN THAT BATHROOM WITH NO—*
"Can you bring me some?!" she called cheerfully. "From my suitcase! Any pair is fine!"
*Any pair. Casual. Like she's asking for socks. Not intimate garments. Not—*
*BREATHE. Just find underwear. Simple task. You're a doctor. You've seen underwear. This is fine.*
He approached her suitcase like it was a bomb.
Opened it carefully.
*Where would she—probably organized—maybe in this compartment—*
He found them.
Pink panties.
With little ribbons on them.
Oh god.
And the matching bra.
Delicate straps. Tiny butterfly decoration in the center.
*So cute. Why are they so cute. Why is underwear cute. This shouldn't affect me. I'm a grown man. A doctor. I've seen—*
*But these are HERS. My WIFE'S. And she's going to WEAR these. Right now. In the bathroom. While I—*
*Don't imagine it. Don't picture her putting them on. Don't think about—*
Too late.
His brain supplied vivid imagery.
*Pink ribbons. Delicate straps. Her small body. Tiny waist. Everything perfect and—*
STOP.
He grabbed the underwear, walked to the bathroom door, knocked.
"I have them."
"Come in!"
*COME IN?! NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. DANGER.*
"I'll just—hand them through—"
The door opened.
Nana stood there in just a towel.
A small towel.
That barely covered anything.
Her wet hair dripping on her shoulders.
Skin flushed from the warm water.
Looking up at him with innocent eyes.
"Thanks!" She took the underwear. "Oh! Look!" She turned to the full-length mirror. "I look like a doll! So cute! Even in just a towel!"
*Cute. She thinks she looks CUTE. She looks like TEMPTATION. Like SIN. Like—*
Zayne's eyes were shut.
Tightly shut.
Locked shut.
Welded shut.
"I'm leaving," he announced. "You get dressed. I'll be outside. Far outside. Very far."
He fled before she could respond.
*Towel. Small towel. Wet. She was WET. From the bath. And her UNDERWEAR with RIBBONS and BUTTERFLIES and—*
COLD THOUGHTS. THINK COLD THOUGHTS. ICE. SNOW. TUNDRA. ARCTIC. ANTARCTIC.
It didn't help.
By the time Nana emerged from the bedroom—fully dressed in her cute pajamas (still tiny but better than the towel)—the food had arrived.
Zayne had arranged everything on the coffee table: fruits, snacks, cheese, small desserts.
And he'd pulled up her drama on the TV.
*Safe. Controlled. Just watching shows. Nothing else.*
"OH!" Nana clapped her hands. "You got EVERYTHING! You're the best husband!"
*Best husband. I'm the best husband for ordering snacks and avoiding intimacy. Perfect.*
She immediately video-called Mina and Jisu.
"LOOK!" She turned the phone to show the villa. "Look where my RICH HUSBAND took me! Private villa! Beach view! SO FANCY!"
On the screen, Mina and Jisu squealed.
"SO JEALOUS!" Mina wailed. "Your husband is AMAZING!"
"And SO HANDSOME!" Jisu added. "Show us! Show us Dr. Hottie!"
*Dr. Hottie. They're calling me Dr. Hottie. This is my reputation now.*
Nana turned the phone to him.
He waved awkwardly.
"HI DR. LI!" they chorused.
"Hello, Mina. Jisu," he said politely. *I want to freeze you both but you make my wife happy so I tolerate you.*
"Take good care of our Nana!" Mina said seriously.
"Very good care!" Jisu added with a wink.
*That wink. That was a suggestive wink. I hate them both.*
"I will," he said simply.
"Okay! Bye! Enjoy your HONEYMOON!" Mina said the word with unnecessary emphasis.
They hung up giggling.
Nana settled on the couch next to Zayne, already grabbing snacks.
*This is nice. Domestic. Safe. Just sitting. Watching TV. Nothing dangerous about—*
"Zayne! Feed me!" Nana opened her mouth like a baby bird. "My hands are busy holding my phone!"
*She wants me to feed her. Like a baby. While she's on her phone.*
*I'm weak. So weak.*
He picked up a strawberry and fed it to her.
She munched happily, scrolling through her phone with one hand, holding the video call with the other—apparently Mina and Jisu were still there, watching.
"Oh my GOD," Mina's voice came through the phone. "He's FEEDING you?! That's SO CUTE!"
"Right?!" Nana beamed. "Best husband!"
Zayne fed her another strawberry, trying to ignore the commentary from her friends.
*This is my life. Being observed by her friends while feeding her fruit.*
"More!" Nana demanded.
He fed her cheese next.
Then a grape.
Then a piece of chocolate.
*I'm a trained surgeon. My hands save lives. Now they're being used to feed my wife snacks while her friends watch and giggle.*
"We'll let you go!" Mina finally said. "Enjoy your NIGHT!" Another emphasis.
"Have FUN!" Jisu added with another wink.
They hung up.
Finally alone.
*This is fine. Just us. Watching dramas. Completely innocent—*
"Drama time!" Nana announced, pressing play.
The drama was typical—handsome male lead, beautiful female lead, romantic tension, dramatic music.
Nana was completely absorbed, eyes glued to the screen.
Zayne was trying to read a medical journal on his tablet while keeping an eye on her.
*This is nice. Peaceful. Safe. Just a normal evening of—*
"Oh! He's so handsome!" Nana sighed, pointing at the male lead.
*Handsome. She called him handsome. The TV man.*
Zayne glanced at the screen with narrowed eyes.
*He's average. Very average. Nothing special about—*
"Look at his smile! So charming!" Nana continued, completely oblivious to Zayne's growing irritation.
*I smile. I can smile. I've smiled. Multiple times. At HER.*
"And his hair! So perfect!"
*My hair is professional. Clinical. Appropriate.*
On screen, the male lead was having a dramatic moment, wind blowing through his hair, looking brooding and intense.
*Ridiculous. That's CGI wind. Not even real wind.*
"So DREAMY!" Nana sighed again.
*DREAMY. She called TV man DREAMY.*
Zayne's eye twitched.
*I'm sitting right here. Right HERE. Her ACTUAL husband. And she's sighing over TV man.*
Then, as if the universe wanted to torture him more, the male lead started unbuttoning his shirt.
Slowly.
Dramatically.
Revealing abs.
Perfect, sculpted, probably-airbrushed-definitely-CGI abs.
"OH MY GOD!" Nana leaned forward. "LOOK AT THAT! WOW!"
She was staring.
Actually STARING.
At TV abs.
While Zayne sat right next to her.
With his OWN abs.
REAL abs.
NOT CGI abs.
That's it.
He grabbed the remote and changed the channel.
"HEY!" Nana protested. "I was watching that! The abs!"
"No more abs," Zayne said firmly. "Watching something else now."
"But I wanted to see—"
"NO."
She pouted. Full hamster pout. Devastating pout.
*Don't give in. Stand firm. Assert dominance over TV abs.*
"His abs were so nice," she mumbled sadly.
*NICE. NICE ABS. TV ABS WERE NICE.*
*UNACCEPTABLE.*
Zayne stood up.
Set down his tablet.
Grabbed the bottom of his shirt.
And pulled it off.
In one smooth motion.
*If she wants abs. I'll show her REAL abs. ACTUAL abs. SUPERIOR abs.*
Nana's mouth fell open.
"These," Zayne said, gesturing to his torso with perhaps more drama than necessary, "are real abs. No CGI. No airbrush. No TV magic. Real. Right here. In person."
*Am I showing off? Yes. Am I jealous of a fictional character? Absolutely. Am I being ridiculous? Completely. Do I care? Not even a little.*
"Wow," Nana breathed, eyes wide. "You... you have abs. Really nice abs. Like... REALLY nice."
*REALLY nice. Better than TV abs?*
"Better than TV?" he asked, needing confirmation.
"SO much better! Can I—" she reached out tentatively, "—can I touch them?"
*Touch. She wants to touch. My abs. Oh god.*
"You can touch," he managed, voice strained.
*This was a terrible idea. Showing abs. Inviting touching. What was I thinking. I wasn't thinking. Jealousy made me stupid.*
Her small hand pressed against his stomach.
Oh no.
She traced one ab.
Then another.
This is torture. Exquisite torture.
"It's hard," she observed, fascinated. "Like... muscle? Obviously muscle. But also warm. And—" she pressed more firmly, "—it's like touching chocolate. Firm chocolate. Warm chocolate."
*Chocolate. She's comparing my abs to chocolate. Is that good? That's good right?*
Her fingers traced downward.
Slowly.
Exploringly.
*She's exploring. Of course she's exploring. She explores EVERYTHING.*
Zayne stood perfectly still, every muscle tense, trying desperately not to—
She pressed her palm flat against his stomach, feeling the definition.
*Don't groan. Don't make sounds. Stay professional. This is just—*
Her hand moved lower.
To the V-line at his hips.
DANGER. RED ALERT. ABORT ABORT.
"Hamster," he managed, voice rough, "you should—you should stop."
"Why?" She looked up at him innocently. "I'm just exploring! Educational touching! You said I could touch!"
*I did. I absolutely did. This is my fault. Completely my fault.*
"Because—" he caught her wrist gently, "—if you keep touching me like that, movie night is going to turn into something else entirely."
"Something else?" She tilted her head. "Like what?"
*Like me losing all control. Like me showing you EXACTLY what those abs are for. Like—*
"Like honeymoon activities," he said carefully. "The kind we discussed. The kind you wanted to learn about."
Her eyes widened.
"Oh! THOSE activities! We can do those now?!"
*Now. She wants now. Right now. Because I showed off my abs. Because I got jealous of TV man. This is what I get.*
"I—" he started, then stopped.
*Do I want to? Yes. Desperately. Have I been thinking about it all day? All week? Since the wedding? Yes.*
*Is she ready? She thinks she is. She's been asking.*
*Am I ready? Ha. I've been ready. Too ready.*
"We could," he admitted quietly. "If you want. If you're sure."
"I'm sure!" She nodded enthusiastically. "Very sure! I've been ready! You're the one who keeps saying 'eventually'!"
*She's right. I've been stalling. Being responsible. Making sure she understood.*
*But now...*
*Now she's touching my abs and asking for honeymoon activities and I—*
*I'm done waiting.*
"Okay," he said softly, cupping her face. "Then we'll do the honeymoon activities. Properly. Starting with french kissing and progressing to... everything else."
"EVERYTHING?!" She bounced excitedly. "All the things from your clinical explanation?!"
*She's excited. Like this is an adventure. Like this is just another thing to explore.*
*My innocent, curious, chaos-generating wife.*
*Who is about to not be so innocent anymore.*
*Oh god.*
*What have I done.*
*Shown my abs. That's what I've done. Gotten jealous. Shown off. And now—*
"Yes," he confirmed. "Everything. But slowly. And you tell me if anything hurts or feels wrong or—"
She kissed him.
Enthusiastically.
Cutting off his responsible-doctor speech.
*She's ready. More than ready.*
*No more eventually.*
*No more soon.*
*Now.*
ZAYNE'S INTERNAL MONOLOGUE - 10:47 PM
Medical log - Emergency entry:
Got jealous of TV abs.
Showed my abs.
Wife touched my abs.
Wife compared my abs to chocolate.
Wife's hands wandered.
I almost died.
Wife asked for honeymoon activities.
I agreed.
Current status: About to have honeymoon activities.
With my wife.
Who is touching my abs.
Who called them "firm warm chocolate."*l
Who is ready.
Who has been ready.
Who I've been making wait because I was being responsible.
But now—
Now TV abs made me jealous.
And I took off my shirt.
And now we're doing this.
Tonight.
Right now.
Oh god.
I'm not ready.
I'm completely ready.
I don't know anymore.
She's looking at me with those eyes.
Excited eyes.
Curious eyes.
Trusting eyes.
I can do this.
I HAVE to do this.
For her.
For us.
For the sake of not being outdone by TV abs.
That last one is petty.
But also valid.
Here goes everything.
.
.
.
.
.
🌻🌻🌻
To be continued.