An arranged love story of two independent souls who hold their family traditions and culture close to their hearts. What happens when their worlds collide? When they meet, bringing with them their own dreams, ambitions, and past experiences, and ent...
The next morning, I awoke to the golden sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains of our suite, casting a warm glow over Hukum's sleeping form. His face was serene, his lashes resting against his cheek, and his arms still loosely wrapped around my waist from the night before. My heart swelled at the sight of him, so unguarded and beautiful in the morning light.
But adventure awaited, and I was too excited to waste a single moment. With a mischievous smile, I brushed my lips against his ear and whispered, "Wake up, sleepyhead. We have a date with history today."
Hukum groaned, burying his face into the pillow. "Five more minutes, Jaana..."
I laughed, shaking him gently. "We're going to the Acropolis today! Don't you want to see the Parthenon up close?"
He peeked one eye open and smirked. "The only thing I want to see up close right now is you."
Heat rushed to my cheeks as his arms tightened around me, pulling me onto his chest. "Hukum! We can't be late!"
He nuzzled my neck, his breath hot against my skin. "Greece has been here for thousands of years; it'll wait a little longer for us."
My giggles filled the room as he playfully rolled us over, his weight pinning me down in the most delicious way. But I was determined to stick to our plan, so I wriggled out of his grasp, slipping out of bed before temptation could take over.
After a quick breakfast of Greek yogurt with honey and nuts, paired with fresh orange juice, we set out for the Acropolis. The ancient citadel loomed in the distance as we climbed the winding paths, hand in hand, the city of Athens sprawling beneath us like a sea of white marble.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Standing before the Parthenon, I was awestruck by its grandeur. The towering Doric columns, weathered by time, stood as a testament to a civilization long past yet still revered. Hukum wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close. "It's magnificent," he murmured.
"It really is," I whispered, leaning into him. "It feels surreal to be here."
He brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "Not as surreal as having you in my arms."
My breath hitched as his lips found mine, a slow, passionate kiss that stole my senses. We were surrounded by history, but in that moment, nothing existed beyond us—the heat of his touch, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against mine. Tourists passed by, some smiling at our open display of affection, but I didn't care.
After exploring the ruins, we took a stroll through Plaka, the old historical neighborhood of Athens. The cobbled streets were lined with charming cafes and colorful shops, each corner exuding an old-world charm. We stopped at a local taverna for lunch, indulging in moussaka and freshly baked pita with tzatziki. The flavors were divine, but nothing compared to the way Hukum looked at me across the table, his gaze filled with desire and promise.
