It's Hard Not To Fall

The Honeymoon of Honeymoons

The breeze carries the rich scent of salt and tropical blooms as you step onto the balcony, taking in the sight of the endless ocean stretching beyond the horizon. The golden sun dips lower, casting a warm, amber glow over the small coastal town below.

Somewhere, you can hear the distant strum of a guitar, blending with the rhythmic murmur of waves lapping against the shore.

Jin joins you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. His presence is warm, comforting, and so familiar it feels like home. You've always wanted a honeymoon that was a little off the beaten path—something that felt more like an adventure than a postcard. Guatemala, with its vibrant culture and hidden gems, was the perfect choice.

"You hungry?" he asks, his breath soft against your ear, the question so ordinary, but filled with the easy intimacy that defines your relationship.

You laugh, leaning into him. "We're on our honeymoon, and you're thinking about food?"

"Hey," he grins, "I'm always thinking about food. But in this case, I'm thinking about us getting the full experience. There's a little restaurant down the street—authentic, local food. I saw it while we were walking earlier."

Your stomach flutters with a mix of anticipation and the lingering warmth of contentment. "You sure you'll be okay with me translating?" you tease, turning your head slightly to catch his eyes.

"Are you kidding? Listening to you speak Spanish is one of my favorite things. You're so hot when you're fluent in things I don't understand," he jokes, pressing a quick kiss to your neck before letting go.

A soft laugh escapes you, and you turn, playfully pushing him away. "It's not that impressive."

Fifteen minutes later, the two of you are wandering through the narrow streets, hand in hand, the colors of the buildings vibrant and alive under the evening sky. The little restaurant is tucked into a quiet corner, lit by warm, glowing lanterns. A few locals sit at tables, speaking in rapid Spanish, their laughter blending with the soft hum of conversation.

"Buenas noches," you greet the hostess with a smile, sliding seamlessly into the language as she beams back at you, leading you to a small table by the window. You glance at Seokjin, who watches you with admiration, his eyes shining with that same warmth he's always had for you.

"See? Told you. So hot," he whispers, making you roll your eyes, though your smile gives away how much you enjoy the compliment.

You order effortlessly, weaving through the menu in Spanish with ease, enjoying the subtle glances Seokjin sends your way. He's trying to follow along but also trusts you completely to choose for him.

You pick a few local dishes, things you know he'll love, and a bottle of wine from a nearby vineyard.

As the night unfolds, you sip wine and share stories, your laughter filling the cozy restaurant as the world outside softens into the evening's embrace. The food is incredible—spicy, rich, and comforting—and Seokjin keeps making little noises of approval after each bite, which makes you laugh.

"I think we should just move here," he says halfway through the meal, grinning at you. "We could open a little café by the beach. I'll cook, and you can charm everyone with your Spanish."

You laugh, leaning back in your chair. "That's your dream, not mine," you remind him, though the idea of a slow, quiet life with Seokjin in a place like this isn't unappealing.

"I'm serious, though," he continues, playful but with a thread of sincerity. "This feels perfect, doesn't it? Like, we could just stay here forever, you and me. I don't need anything else."