PEDRO PASCAL IMAGINES

Perfect (Frankie Morales/ Catfish x reader)

„Why won't you tell me?" You wailed, clinging onto Frankie's arm in the salmon coloured denim jacket you had given him for his birthday. He looked so handsome next to you on the helicopter, headset on, eyes mindfully focussed on the land before him.

Your wedding had been beautiful. After two weeks of newlywed bliss, Frankie had finally told you to pack your bags for the honeymoon. Of course he wouldn't reveal his surprise, and of course you were as excited as a little child the night before Christmas morning.

Now, after several hours of flight to you didn't know where, you were starting to get a little fidgety. Frankie sensed it, and although he had to keep his focus on steering the vehicle, he reached over to grab your hand in his.

"We're going to a very special place, my love. I promise you'll love it." And with these words, he lifted your hand towards his lips to press a tender kiss on it, his stubble scratching your skin. You sighed, eventually accepting that he wouldn't tell you anything until you set foot on land again.

Another thirty minutes later, Frankie at last headed for a gigantic field that would mark your landing site. You took in your surroundings carefully, grassy hills between palm trees and a crystal blue sky. Naturally, you already knew you were on an island, but your geographical knowledge leaked the ability to identify which one it actually was.

While you were observing the nature, Frankie checked the helicopter and fetched your bags so you were ready to go. When he was done, he watched you carefully, a tiny smirk playing on his features. You turned around and spotted him standing there, his hair tousled and beard messy, he fitted into the landscape so perfectly that he could easily be mistaken for an inhabitant of the island. The colour of his jacket highlighted his features so well, brought a healthy glow onto his cheeks. He looked so happy.

A broad smile appeared on your face when Frankie offered you to take his hand in yours. You approached him, taking his large hand, ready to fall into his arms. He wrapped them around you tightly, nuzzling his face into the warmth of your neck. Instantly, you did the same, breathing in his masculine, yet sweet scent.

"We're on Hawaii, by the way," he muttered, his breath tickling your skin. You chuckled, not really giving a damn anymore, just as long you could be with him, your best friend, the love of your life.

Frankie took you to the small beach hut you would be staying in. Two weeks by the beach without a care in the world. It felt you hadn't been this excited for decades.

After settling in and having a snack, sun was already setting over the ocean. Small clouds had found their way onto the sky and it had gotten quite chilly. Luckily, you had brought a cosy jumper. Frankie had also changed into a striped sweater he had once bought on a trip to Peru.

He placed his strong arms around your shoulders as you were strolling along the beach, barefoot, the still warm sand feeling so good under your toes.

"Let's test the temperature," he grinned, pulling you with him and into the sea. The water splashed against your legs up to your knees and you squealed at the sudden coldness, hence you got used to it quickly. While Frankie marched deeper and deeper into the water, you stayed at the shallow area where the water could only reach your calves.

It didn't take Frankie long to come back to you, a giant seashell in his hands.

"Look," he announced, "this will forever be our reminder of this trip. Our love."

He placed the shell in your hands and you smiled at it's beauty, but also at Frankie's cheesy comment.

You brought a hand to his neck and knocked your forehead against his.

"Thank you," you whispered, "for all of this."

Frankie kissed you softly, his lips lingering on yours. He then stepped behind you and wrapped his arms around your upper body, turning you towards the ocean. The setting sun was painting sky and water in gorgeous shades of red and pink.

It was perfect.