#under the amalfi sun | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

adore-laur · 6 months

Text

PINK VELVET

— an italian getaway full of sunshine & surprises 💗

——

SALERNO, ITALY

Crystalline blue waters sparkling under the sunshine, ornate architecture standing high among the cliffsides, and mopeds burning rubber on the cobblestone streets — it's all pure, unadulterated bliss.

To share that bliss with your boyfriend enhances the experience. Both of you have been staying at a villa rental for a few days already, and the surrounding greenery and stucco buildings on the precipice rocks of the Tyrrhenian Sea bring a much-needed sense of privacy. It's a getaway for your third anniversary with Harry, and while it's a more extended vacation than usual — two weeks to be exact — the mellow atmosphere makes you feel like you could stay in Italy forever.

Harry had said he plans on wooing you with the foreign language, having bought a book filled with romantic phrases at the airport's souvenir shop. You're dreading it because once he starts, he won't stop.

It's four in the afternoon, and you're getting ready to kayak off the Amalfi Coast. The heat will be sweltering, especially out on the open water, so you put on jean shorts over your swim bottoms, leaving just your bikini top on. Harry is standing in the doorway of the master bathroom and tying the strings of his swim trunks. He's wearing a white tank top that you know will be taken off eventually.

A cooler packed with snacks and drinks is by the front door. Once you reach downtown, the journey to the kayak launch takes about fifteen minutes, so you and Harry will drive in the vintage Cadillac he insisted on renting and park on the street before walking the rest of the way.

"Ready?" Harry asks, giving your ass two pats as he walks by.

"I guess," you say flatly.

He smirks and steals a scrunchie from your makeup bag to put around his wrist. "That's enough outta you."

You hoist the cooler over your shoulder, sling a beach towel over the other, and then stroll through the spacious villa rooms toward the door. When you open it, a blast of humid air immediately hits you. Harry brushes past you while jingling the car keys, a drawstring backpack on his back. You lock the door before heading toward the luxurious car you don't want to know the cost of.

Harry swings the passenger door open for you like a gentleman, but you decide to mess with him by ignoring his gesture. You open the driver's side door and smoothly crawl over the console until you're in the passenger seat. Harry slowly shakes his head, reaching forward to pluck your bikini strap with his fingers and lightly snap it against your skin. He throws his backpack under the seat before sliding behind the steering wheel.

The engine roars to life. Harry's hand places itself on your headrest, his body twisting around so he can carefully reverse down the circular driveway. You take his hand and set your interlocked fingers in your lap. He glances at you and smiles, his hair blowing beautifully in the wind and the sun casting a golden hue over his face.

When you arrive downtown, Harry parks along a random street. He removes his hand from yours and claps once. "Okay, here's the game plan. I reckon we should rent one kayak for both of us. It'll be cheaper and more fun, and we can work together like—"

"Absolutely not."

"Pardon?"

"I'm sorry, but being stuck in a kayak with you sounds like my personal hell. You'll somehow manage to tip us over or get us lost." Harry can live in a world of his own sometimes. You really want to avoid ending up stranded in the deep, expansive ocean.

"Baby," he says, looking at you with wounded eyes. "What if I drift away and we lose each other? I need you. I'll do all the work while you sit back and relax."

You can't possibly say no to him when he looks like a literal Greek god basking in the Italian sun, his lips irresistibly pink against his tanned skin.

"Fine," you surrender. "I'm not letting you do all the work, though, because we'll probably end up in a different country. Also, I'm sitting in the front seat. Deal?"

"Sì, amore mio," he says, passion dripping off his tongue. "And, um... I may have already paid for just one kayak when I booked the reservation yesterday. Well, singular ticket."

"You're unbelievable." Stepping out of the car, you stretch your limbs while Harry puts his backpack on and grabs the cooler. You hold onto his free hand and begin walking to the beach. Many people are out and about — vendors selling gourmet cuisine, kids riding bicycles through the alleyways, and tourists stopping at attractions.

At the waterfront, kayaks are stacked on racks, shimmering under the sun. Since Harry booked a reservation ahead of time, he walks toward the man who appears to be running the operation. You watch them shake hands and converse. Harry knows enough basic Italian to navigate through any language barrier yet to come.

Eventually, they both wander over to you, and the man caresses your hand and kisses your cheek. You smile and shyly mutter an Italian greeting. The man then excitedly leads you to the kayaks, taking a maroon two-seater from the bottom rack and dragging it toward the water. While following him, you notice only a few people are on the beach today. Only a couple of other occupied kayaks drift in the ocean, looking like mere silhouettes from where you stand.

"You know the rules, yes?" asks the man as he pushes the front of the kayak into the shallow water.

"Yes, I've done this before. I'll teach this guy," you say, pointing at Harry while draping your towel over the seat.

Harry smiles mindlessly, placing the cooler and backpack between the two seats. The man briefly leaves to grab life jackets and oars, leaving you and Harry to get into the kayak. You have him go first since he's sitting in the back. As you grip the side so it doesn't rock, he removes his tank top and hands it to you before steadily climbing in and bending his long legs to fit in the restrictive space.

You're next. Harry plants his foot in the sand to keep the kayak balanced and then offers his hand to grasp. Once you're situated, you sigh relievedly.

"This sucks," Harry mutters, nudging his knee against your back. "I can't even see your face."

"You could've solved that problem if you got us two kayaks."

"Yeah, but I wanted to be close to you," he says, sliding his shoes off. "Just look behind you every once in a while so I can get my fix."

You laugh, looking at the water that endlessly expands past the horizon. The man comes back with two life jackets, and you clip one to your body as sturdy oars are placed across your and Harry's laps. The man gives a thumbs up and slowly maneuvers the kayak away from the shoreline.

"Grazie!" Harry shouts, waving to him as the both of you drift further from land.

"Ciao! Stai al sicuro!" he shouts back.

The destination to the cliffs is a short one, their imminent height visible far out to the left of the coastal village. You begin paddling, alternating sides to stay on a straight path, while Harry opens the cooler to take out a package of crackers and a bottle of water.

"Please tell me you know how to properly paddle," you say, taking a break to sip some water while the kayak naturally rides the ripples.

"Obviously. I'm kind of the backbone of this kayak, so I know what I'm doing," Harry replies with faux confidence, still not picking up the paddle.

"That's funny, considering I'm literally doing all the work right now. Get to paddling, or I won't turn around so you can get your fix."

"Calmati, bellissima," he murmurs, snatching a handful of crackers before finally helping.

A comfortable silence ensues, only the sound of water splashing and the slight creak of the kayak that comes with each movement. Harry whistles a tune every so often. A content smile pulls at your lips.

However, it doesn't last long because if there's one thing Harry loves to do, it's acting like a child sometimes. He disrupts the long stretch of peace by pretending to tip over the kayak by rocking slightly back and forth in his seat, gasping like he's not doing it.

"Harry, I swear to God," you say with a nervous undertone, holding on to the edge of the kayak so you don't actually tip over into the vast ocean infested with who knows what. "You're like a five-year-old!"

He listens immediately, apparently noticing your anxiousness. He settles back in his seat, stretching his legs next to your body and nudging his foot against your thigh as a silent apology.

"It wasn't me. I think there's an animal under us," he says, playing with your hair to distract you. It doesn't help, because you know that there are probably massive creatures swimming below you. He knows one of your biggest fears is drowning, so he should feel like a jerk now after his little charade.

"Are you going to sit there and braid my hair, or can you help me get to our destination before it gets dark?"

"Sorry," he murmurs, grabbing his paddle and helping you turn left toward the rock formations. They aren't too far away now.

"We're almost there," you encourage softly, dialing back your slight attitude. Harry is quiet, so you turn around to see him pouting softly. "Why are you sulking?"

"Am I being annoying? You sound annoyed with me," he says, avoiding eye contact and setting his paddle down.

"No, honey. I just want to get there as quickly as we can and swim for a bit. We have wine tasting after this, so we can't dilly-dally."

"Dilly-dally," he repeats, laughing at your chosen phrase. "Okay, I'll behave. Kiss?"

You capture his lips with yours, tasting the tomato basil crackers he's been munching on. He kisses you back and reaches his hand to push some hair behind your ear. Pulling away, you see the cliffs only about two hundred feet away. You both begin paddling again in serene silence.

At the side of the cliff, you stop the kayak by a large, flat rock that peeks out of the water and appears safe to stand on. You hold onto it, the waves more active in this area, and tie some rope around the post provided. You assume it's there for other kayakers and cliff divers to take advantage of.

Once you climb onto the rock, you offer your hand to assist Harry and pull him up. "We made it!" you exclaim, lifting your arms. Harry high-fives both of your hands and bends down to kiss you.

You unclip your life jacket, then do the same for Harry. Free from obstruction, your arms naturally loop around his waist for a hug. He embraces you, his large hand cradling the back of your head. You stay like that for a while, watching waves crash against the rocks as the sun starts painting the sky with blue and orange streaks.

"Wanna do something stupid?" you mumble into his chest before lifting your chin to look at him mischievously. He has more freckles due to hours spent sunbathing.

Harry peers at you with furrowed brows. "What?"

"Let's jump off that rock," you say, pointing your finger behind him.

He turns you both around, still trapping you in his arms. A tall, cliff-like rock surrounded by several smaller rocks makes it easy to reach the top. You don't wait for Harry's answer and pull your shorts down, revealing your cherry-red bikini bottoms. Venturing your way up, you glance back at Harry. He grins and immediately follows suit, walking behind you with outreached arms in case you slip.

At the top, you both stare at each other with knowing smiles. This is exactly where you're supposed to be.

Out of nowhere, Harry experiences a burst of spontaneity and quickly lunges forward, cannonballing off the cliff and into the water. He emerges after a few seconds, shaking his hair and letting out a loud holler, probably caused by adrenaline or the cold water.

You shuffle toward the edge and get ready to jump. Harry's gaze never wavers as you daintily leap off, plugging your nose and closing your eyes on the long way down. When you hit the water, a powerful sensation rushes through your body. You glide to the surface and find Harry swimming toward you, drenched hair plastered to his skin.

The water is an uncomfortable temperature, so you move briskly to climb back up on the rock the kayak is tied to. Shortly after, Harry lifts himself up, droplets dripping from his body. You dry off with the towel, then hand it to him. Once he finishes, you take your phone out of the backpack and tell him to pose. He presents both middle fingers, sticking his tongue out with a smile. The breathtaking evening view in the background makes the picture ten times more perfect.

"Let's head back," you say after soaking in the skyline. "The wine tasting is at six, and it's a little after five right now."

Harry nods, and you both put your life jackets back on before situating yourselves in the kayak. You untie the knotted rope, push off the rock, and then head toward the coastline. He helps paddle the whole way there, kissing the back of your neck every so often.

Bliss, bliss, bliss.

——

After returning the kayak and packing all the stuff in the car's trunk, Harry says he's going to find a nearby bathroom so he can change into his outfit for the wine tasting. He hands you one of his sweaters out of the bag — a grey crewneck. It's your favorite and still smells like him, no matter how often you've worn it.

You have no idea what outfit he brought; he manages to take it out and quickly runs into a shop while you're distracted by the lively village. Waiting with anticipation in the car, you cozy up, growing tired from the strenuous paddling and calming atmosphere around you.

Five minutes pass before Harry appears, and you immediately laugh at the sight of him. Not because he looks silly but because his outfit is too fancy for less than an hour of wine tasting in some restaurant's cellar.

"Harry," you say breathily, taking in his outfit, "I'm wearing a sweater, and you're wearing a suit. Where did you even get that?"

It's a bubblegum pink suit left open over a plain white button-up. White dress shoes are on his feet, and he must've fixed his hair in the bathroom mirror.

"Eh?" He spins around. "You like it?"

"You look very handsome, but now I feel severely underdressed. Why didn't you tell me to pack a dress?" You obviously don't have the time to go back to the villa and change, but you're curious as to why Harry didn't say anything about the apparent dress code for tonight.

"Wanted to surprise you, darling. Plus, I know you would be worried about spilling wine on something nice. It's a private tasting, so no one will see you but me and the chef I mentioned."

Harry had booked a wine tasting with a man he'd met when he last visited Italy, the friendly owner of a family-owned restaurant in the village. He has always been able to leave unforgettable impressions on everyone he meets, so the man gladly moved some things around so that he could have you two come to the cellar for an intimate experience.

You sigh, realizing there's no point in arguing. They won't care, so why should you? You have no doubt that Harry will make you feel comfortable once you get there.

"You're right. Hopefully, he doesn't care that I look like I just crawled out of a lake."

"Basta. Sembri un sogno," Harry says, grabbing your hand and tugging you out of the car.

You assume he said something incredibly charming. Your face naturally warms as you distract yourself by picking nonexistent lint off your sleeve before walking the bustling street toward a restaurant called Dahlia. The man Harry knows is waiting by the arched front door with a jovial smile.

"Ciao, Signore Styles!" he greets enthusiastically. "Ah, la tua ragazza. Benvenuto!"

Harry shakes his hand. "Che bello rivederti. Questa è la mia ragazza, sì. Cominciamo, va bene?"

"Yes, yes. Seguitemi, cari."

The two of you follow him through the small, packed restaurant and descend a narrow flight of stairs that leads to a wine cellar. Harry is behind you, his hands on your shoulders so you don't take a tumble. His dress shoes click against the polished wood with each step.

At the bottom, you turn down a dim hallway. Endless wine bottles are meticulously stacked on shelves against the walls. There's a table and chairs, and two wine glasses and napkins are already set neatly on the surface. There's even a plate of bread.

You sit, Harry doing the same. He immediately begins shaking the napkin out and placing it in his lap like he's done this a million times before. You cross your legs and angle your body toward him, admiring his features in the low, yellowish lighting from the antique wall sconces. He grins handsomely.

The man brings over two bottles of expensive-looking wine, and you think of your preconceived notion of what wine tasting would be like—rolling hills and vineyards in the countryside, getting wine drunk with middle-aged moms wearing patterned blouses, gossiping about their cheating husbands.

Where you are right now is undeniably better. Who wouldn't want to be in a cramped room with their boyfriend who's wearing a pink suit and looking at you like you're the only thing that exists?

The man fills the wine glasses with an adequate amount of blood-red liquid, then stands back to observe your reactions. Harry spins it around in his glass and sniffs it, acting like he's all fancy. You want to laugh at him but keep it inside so you don't seem disrespectful. Instead, you bring your glass up to your mouth and take a small sip, tasting wild berries and a hint of an unknown aromatic herb. Harry sips his next, eyes locked on yours the entire time. He smacks his lips after swallowing and exhales, obviously pleased. You roll your eyes at him secretively. He's acting like he owns the place, and it's shameful that you find it attractive.

You rip off a piece of the bread from the loaf in front of you and eat it, the buttery dough instantly melting on your tongue. Harry smiles at you, resting his hand on your chair as you rip some more off and offer it to him. He puts it in his mouth and mouths a silent swear, then picks up the entire loaf of bread and inspects it like he's Gordon Ramsey.

"I need the recipe for that," you whisper humorously.

Harry, of course, takes it literally. He beckons the man to come closer and places a friendly hand on his shoulder. "La mia ragazza adora cucinare il pane. Potrei avere questa ricetta per favore? Questo è sorprendente."

"Ovviamente! Tornerò," says the man while hurriedly going upstairs.

You turn to Harry with confusion, needing help understanding the exchange.

"He's getting the recipe for it," he explains. "You can make it before we go home."

"Harry," you say with a sigh. "Stop being so nice. I could've just found an online recipe. What if it's a family recipe that's super important to him?"

"Stop worrying, my love. He doesn't mind."

Before you can respond, the man returns with a tattered recipe book. He opens it to a bookmarked page and sets it in front of you. "Fai una photo, caro. Fammi sapere com'è quando lo fai," he says, pointing at the bread drawing — not a picture — on the weathered page. Was this recipe from medieval times? Goodness gracious.

You can't understand him, so Harry takes your phone out of your pocket and snaps a picture of the handwritten words on the paper. You can't believe this man you just met is so willing to give you a recipe from his own restaurant.

"Grazie," you say shyly. Harry smiles at your sudden bashfulness, scooting closer to you and kissing your head.

Wine tasting continues for the next hour. Throughout the various sips of eclectic flavors, Harry amps up his lovable antics — slowly and dramatically reeling off flavors he gets from the wine and spinning the liquid in the glass so quickly that it spills onto the napkin in his lap.

Anything to see you smile.

After what feels like gallons of wine, you and Harry thank the man for his graciousness and ask if he could drive the car back to the villa since driving back yourselves while tipsy would be idiotic. Harry offers to pay a hefty amount for the favor, and the man happily obliges, saying he will drive it back when he finishes closing the restaurant. Harry hands him the keys before you leave, shaking hands and kissing cheeks with the other chefs on the way out.

You're both wine-drunk—arguably the best kind of drunk—and stumbling on clumsy feet with cheeks that won't stop smiling. It's dark out now, and the streetlights guide you to the Corvette. Harry calls for a taxi, speaking in full Italian, which makes you weak in the knees.

Harry removes his suit jacket after hanging up the phone, leaving the white button-up in all its glory, his tattoos and chest hair peeking out from the few buttons undone. You take your belongings out of the trunk, set them on the ground, and then stand beside Harry. You kiss his chest, nuzzling your cheek against it and closing your eyes. He rubs his hand along your back and begins swaying with you under the streetlight.

You look up at him with glassy eyes and flushed cheeks, admiring his matching appearance. "How do you say 'pretty' in Italian?" you ask, getting lost in his gaze.

Harry pouts, thinking. "Patatina," he replies after a few seconds.

"You're patatina," you say lovingly.

He snorts at your cluelessness, smearing a kiss on your forehead.

"What?" you ask, looking at him with confusion. "Is that not what it means? That's not nice, Harry. What did you just make me say?" You gasp. "Is it something dirty?"

He's still giggling, crinkled eyes and deep dimples carving his face. You poke his ribs to get him to answer. "Sorry," he says, breathing out a final laugh. "No, it's not dirty. Patatina is a term of endearment I read about in the book I bought. It means little potato."

You stare at him with a deadpan expression, thoughts about why you decided to date this boy running through your head. "Little potato... it's actually kind of cute," you admit, shuffling closer to Harry's warm body. "If you're a patatina, what am I?"

"Cipollino," he murmurs, cradling your face. It translates to 'little onion .'The book said it pairs well with patatina, and we're, like... a pair."

Your nose scrunches. "But an onion, out of everything? That's probably the least romantic vegetable. I want to be rhubarb or something, you know? They taste sweet, and I think... I think I'm pretty sweet. Right, Harry?" The wine is making its way to your dizzy head.

"Correct," he says. "And I'm patatina, not Harry."

"Shut up."

"Kiss me, then. Shut me right up."

You don't question him, lurching forward to give him a searing kiss, fingers hooking in his belt loops. He returns the kiss with the same, if not more, passion. You can taste the residue of wine on his cherry-colored lips, opening his mouth with your tongue to suck on his.

You suddenly hear tires rolling up and turn to see headlights shining on your figures. Great timing, taxi. You part from Harry's swollen lips, short of breath, and hastily pick up your stuff. You hope no one witnessed anything too wild.

Harry hands the driver a wad of cash before he climbs in the backseat. You follow suit. The vehicle drives off into the night, and your head rests on your lover's shoulder the whole way back.

——

The villa looms exquisitely under the starlit sky. You're relatively sure you fell asleep not even five minutes into the drive. Harry helps your sleepy body out of the car after grabbing all your belongings, then walks you up the driveway. He sets you on the outdoor sofa surrounding the fire pit before disappearing through the sliding door. The whispering breeze makes you shiver and burrow deeper into his sweater still clinging to your figure.

Harry returns with two wine glasses and a bottle of... cranberry juice?

"If I have any more wine, I'll puke. So, cranberry juice?" he offers, his voice rising to a higher octave.

"Sitting by the fire drinking cranberry juice out of a wine glass with you," you say dreamily while scooting over to make room for him. "I can't think of anything better."

You soak up his company. When he went inside, he changed into grey sweatpants and a matching hoodie, and he looked like such a boyfriend. It's ridiculous. He's always so inviting and lovely. You find yourself wanting to touch him and absorb the warmth he exudes.

Sleep overtakes you again while tucked into his side. The next thing you wake to is silk sheets on the king-size bed. You instinctively curl up to Harry's body beside you. He must have opened the vast bay window that provides an impossible sea view because a beautiful breeze flows over your skin. It has you sinking further into the mattress.

"Want me to get your pajamas?" Harry asks quietly.

You sleepily shake your head, perfectly fine with sleeping in his sweater. However, you do slide off your shorts and bikini bottoms.

You're dozing again when Harry clears his throat. You blink open your eyes, feeling his heart rate speed up under your cheek resting there.

"I have something special planned for our anniversary tomorrow. It's in the evening, so we have time to do other things. Just letting you know."

"That makes me nervous, but I trust you."

"Tomorrow will be even better than today. I promise."

"Can't wait." You yawn. "Goodnight. Love you."

"I love you more than anything," he says, lightly scratching your back.

You grumble an incoherent response, drifting off to your dreams that always pale compared to life with the man next to you.

——

The following morning's ambiance consists of Harry's snoring and glorious sunshine pouring through the wind-blown curtains. You must've slept like a rock because the bedside clock reads nine-thirty. You decide to abandon the soft sheets and let Harry get more sleep.

You wrap yourself in your satin robe and pad down the hallway toward the kitchen. One glance at the oven, and you remember the bread recipe from last night. It'd be a pleasant anniversary surprise for Harry, considering his surprise for you is shrouded in mystery. Plus, making bread is oddly therapeutic—the kneading, the delicious smell, the endless possibility of flavors. Luckily, all the simple ingredients are in the pantry, so you can start making the dough.

By the time it's in the oven, Harry is still dead to the world, and the time is nearing eleven. Some days, he'll wake up at the crack of dawn to go on a stupid run, or he'll sleep until noon on the weekends after a long week of work. There's really no in-between.

While the bread bakes, you clean the mess on the counters before sitting at the kitchen table to aimlessly scroll through your phone. Another twenty minutes pass before you hear feet shuffling against the hardwood floor. You glance up to find a puffy-eyed Harry rubbing his face. He's wearing black swim trunks, and that's about it, except for the sunglasses on top of his head.

He bends down and kisses your cheek. "Buongiorno, mio piccolo cuoco," he says, his voice as raspy as the slight mustache above his lip that seems to have grown overnight.

"More like good afternoon." You shut your phone off and set it aside. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mm, the best I have in ages," he answers, scratching his stomach. He then smiles lazily, his eyes looking more awake. "Happy anniversary."

"Three whole years. I don't know how I've gone putting up with you this long."

"Hey. I can go back to bed if you want," he says, pointing his thumb toward the bedroom.

"No, stay," you plead softly. "By the way, I'm making that bread recipe. It's my present to you for being an average boyfriend."

"Being sassy this morning, are we?"

"You love it."

"Got that right," Harry mutters, nosily peering into the oven. He sniffs the bread dramatically and whistles impressively before shutting the oven door. The mouthwatering aroma reminds you of wandering the Italian streets yesterday.

"Going for a swim?"

"Yeah. Join me?"

"I will once the bread is done." You stand and send him on his way with a peck to his lips. "Go ahead. I'll make you a fruit platter."

"Dragonfruit, please?" he requests, opening the sliding door that leads to the infinity pool.

"Got it. Don't forget to put sunscreen on!"

He gives you a thumbs up, leaving the door open to welcome the pleasant breeze. You grab hot pads and take the finished bread out, setting it on the cooling rack before turning the oven off. While it cools, you change into a swimsuit, tie a chiffon wrap skirt around your hips, and then arrange a platter.

You gather the cubed fruit you've both been eating the past couple of days—cantaloupe, watermelon, strawberries, and, per Harry's request, dragonfruit. He wanted to buy some after his wonderful mother grew it in her garden. Then, you precisely arrange the fruit in a circle on a floating breakfast tray that can go in the pool, keeping the middle open for slices of buttered bread. You sincerely hope it tastes close enough to what you ate yesterday.

Lastly, you fill glasses with orange juice before carefully heading outside to keep Harry company. You see him floating on his back, arms open and eyes closed. You set the platter down on a table and tiptoe to the edge of the pool.

To hell with it. You're going to scare him to get him back for trying to tip the kayak yesterday. It's only fair, right?

He's oblivious to everything around him, a peaceful glow on his face. You almost feel bad for deciding to disturb it — especially on your anniversary — but what good is a relationship without a bit of havoc?

You mull over what you could possibly do to frighten him. Maybe throw a cantaloupe piece at him or pretend the car came back destroyed. These are two vastly different ends of the mischief spectrum, and ultimately, the latter is the obvious choice—and the most fun.

"Harry?" you say quietly, changing your expression to make it seem like you're distraught.

"Yeah?" he replies, keeping his eyes closed.

"Um, your friend from yesterday just dropped the car off. Harry, it's—"

His eyes snap open, picking up on your wavering and anxious tone. He stops floating and swims over to where you're standing by the edge.

"What's wrong? Talk to me. Did something happen? Are you okay?" he rambles worriedly, his eyes darting between your face and body to check for any signs.

"The car," you whisper, mustering up fake tears. Harry instinctively holds your ankle, his thumb rubbing soothing circles. "It's destroyed. It looks like it got in an accident. What are we going to do?"

"Seriously? What the fuck? How— I don't—" He heaves himself out of the pool and begins walking around the villa toward the driveway. He looks like he's about to punch something, so you suppress your laughter and decide to end the game.

You grab his wrist, spinning him around. He stares at you with panic, and now you feel bad. "I'm kidding, baby. I'm just messing with you. The car is fine. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you repeat, clasping his cheeks and laughing.

His jaw drops. "You're so mean."

"I'm just getting you back for yesterday. Them's the rules."

"Yeah, but you've been quite sassy all morning, hmm? First, you called me an average boyfriend. Then, you didn't even kiss me good morning. That hurts my heart."

"You were completely passed out. How would you have known if I kissed you good morning or not?"

"I can always tell. They bring me back to life."

"Shut up," you scoff, grabbing the platter. "Here's some fruit and homemade bread as a peace offering. Take it or leave it."

"Feed me in the pool, and I'll consider your offer."

"Fine. I'm not getting in, though. I want to sunbathe for a bit.

Harry dramatically rolls his eyes and dives back in. When he emerges, he swims to the edge. You sit down with the platter and let it float next to him before putting your feet in the tepid water. You pick up a slice of bread and hold it to Harry's awaiting mouth. He places your legs over his shoulders, his arms hooking around your upper thighs.

Someone's needy today.

He tosses the bread into his mouth, eyes rolling back like they did in the wine cellar yesterday. He borderline moans at the taste, jaw flexing with each chew. After he swallows, he leaves grateful kisses on your thighs. "Deliziosa," he murmurs, paired with more nipping and kissing. You know he's not talking about the bread. The 'a' he added to the end of the word makes it feminine. He's not slick.

Before you both get carried away — wanting to save your pent-up tension for later — you feed him a plethora of fruit before deciding to make both of you an actual meal. You're starving, so you'll catch some sun later.

Harry whines at the loss of contact. You use your foot to push his chest until he's floating on his back again. He throws you a peace sign before you head back inside.

As you whip up a quick breakfast, you watch your boyfriend from the door, appreciating his sunkissed body and tattoos. You smile and think about how time has flown by with him in the most remarkable way.

Three years and hopefully a lifetime more.

——

You're nervous.

You don't have the faintest idea what Harry's surprise is. All he's said is to dress nicely and not eat anything yet. Maybe he's taking you out to dinner? Or perhaps you'll walk downtown together and stop at vendors. You're stumped. He's annoyingly good at keeping secrets.

It's nearing seven as you add the finishing touches to your makeup. Harry is in the bathroom spraying cologne on his neck, looking casually handsome in a flowing, off-white button-up. He's paired it with matching cotton shorts and sneakers that need washing. You keep telling him to clean them, but he ignores your pleading and claims the dirt gives them character.

A short cherry-colored dress with puffed sleeves adorns your body. Red lipstick to match. Hair loose. The necklace Harry bought you for your last anniversary glimmering against your neck.

Harry comes behind you in the vanity mirror as you apply a final coat of mascara and starts soothingly scratching your upper back. He can probably sense you're feeling nervous, knowing you don't particularly like surprises. However, you think he looks undeniably handsome, his new tan and stubble pulling you back into his comfort. Somehow, just looking at him eases your nerves.

"Gorgeous," he whispers.

You smooth any remaining wrinkles out of your dress. "Thank you. I'm almost done."

"Take your time," he replies, squeezing your shoulders. "I'll start the car."

You make sure your makeup is smudge-free and then shut the bedroom light off on your way to the front door. Harry is waiting by the passenger side of the Corvette with a distracted look on his face. When he finally sees you coming, he opens the door for you. This time, you accept his gentlemanlike gesture.

He drives to an unknown destination, taking the backroads. You can't even guess where you're heading since everything outside the villa is unfamiliar.

Ten minutes later, Harry slows down and turns right toward what appears to be a small seaside forest. He drives along the path leading through the trees until a hidden beach area eventually reveals itself. He parks the car while you're speechless at the sight before you. The only things on the sand are a round table with two chairs surrounded by tiki torches.

No one else is here. If Harry tells you he rented the entire beach, you'll kill him.

"I rented this portion of the beach for the night."

Of course.

"You're ridiculous," you say, taking in your surroundings. "Thank you, Harry. This is a wonderful surprise."

He ducks his head bashfully. "C'mon, let's eat."

You follow him to the table and sit on the wicker chair across from him. In front of you is a plate of stuffed ravioli with a side of roasted asparagus, cooked just how you like them. Harry has vegan fettuccine alfredo with peas--a lot of peas. A gagworthy amount.

"I'm floored right now," you say, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. "I can't believe you did all this without me knowing."

"I'm a sneaky guy. There were lots of secret phone calls while you were in the shower or swimming in the pool.

You take your sandals off and enjoy the cool sand between your toes. "Yeah, I bet. I'm not even going to ask how much it costs to rent this part of the beach."

"It's not important," he says. "Let's eat, shall we? And talk me through this little outfit you have on. Why on earth haven't I seen you wear it yet?"

Then, both of you eat, talk, and watch the waves glide on the shore. The sun is dipping past the horizon, turning the sky a violet shade with splashes of fading orange. You talk Harry's ear off about random stuff in your life and humorous anecdotes since the trip started. His body naturally leans toward you to give you his undivided attention. He listens the entire time, eyes on you with his chin in the palm of his hand, except for when he pops some spearmint gum into his mouth after finishing his truckload of peas.

After you finish rambling, you wait for him to start talking your ear off. He usually can drone on and on about anything for hours, but right now, he's just sitting and staring at the sunset.

"You're quiet," you point out, gently poking his arm with your fork.

"Just thinking."

"About what?"

He sighs longingly before saying, "I know we still have more than enough time here, but I kind of don't want to leave. I love it here so much. This is the happiest I've ever been."

Your heart melts. "I feel the same way. I could stay here forever and never get bored of it. Especially with you by my side."

Harry finally looks at you, his eyes holding something unreadable yet powerful. He stands abruptly and reaches his hand out. "Let's walk for a bit," he says with a tone that kicks your anxiety into high gear.

You grasp his hand, and he leads you along the shoreline, your feet getting wet whenever the tide washes up. It's quiet except for the pesky seagulls, crashing waves, and salty breeze. Where you are right now makes you want to bottle up the memory so you can keep the feeling forever, replay this trip, and relive the most joyous moments of your life.

Harry eventually stops, facing you with both hands holding yours tightly. He looks... pale. Are his hands shaking, or are you imagining things? Is he about to pass out from sunstroke? Did he eat too many peas?

He clears his throat and visibly gulps, squinting at the sky and exhaling quickly. His feet shuffle nervously. An incomprehensible thought zings to the front of your brain.

Is he about to do what you think he's about to do?

"I might cry and possibly throw up, so please bear with me," he says, his voice shaky.

You just stare at him, unable to say anything. Then, he begins lowering on one knee, and you just about go down with him.

He removes his hands from yours and takes something out of his pocket. It's a velvet ring box, pink and delicate.

You gasp as Harry opens his mouth, his watery eyes trained on nothing but you. "I love you with all my heart. I'm weak for the things you do, and it consumes me to the point where I feel like I might burst from loving you so much. Every word you speak or smile you give me has me falling for you deeper and deeper. And... you love me back. You love me better than anyone. And I realized when we first met that you're someone I not only want in this life but need. You're the only one for me, and I'll take care of you, support you, and love you so thoroughly until you get sick of me. I'm rambling now, so I'll shut up and cut to the chase. I want to be your husband. Will you marry me? Please? Il mio cuore è solo tuo. If you want it, it's yours."

Harry finishes his speech by opening the ring box to reveal a silver oval-cut ring that takes your breath away. A tear trails down your cheek as your lips wobble. You nod your head what feels like a thousand times. "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you. Holy shit."

He laughs beautifully, his eyes squinting so much that the captured tears in his waterline spill over. He stands and shakily puts the ring on the correct finger. It fits perfectly.

You cup his cheeks and bring his face toward yours. "I love you," you say while kissing his flushed and tear-stained cheeks. "You're so sneaky. I wasn't expecting this until you looked like you were going to pass out in front of me."

"Be glad I didn't throw up on your dress."

"That's true." Suddenly, everything hits you. Harry, we're going to get married."

He smiles with unbridled happiness, nodding before picking you up bridal style and running into the sea. The splashes he makes strike you with cold splatters, and you squeal, but it quickly turns into uncontrollable laughter when Harry spins you around and dips you toward the water. You squirm with resistance and manage to escape his arms. He stumbles from the waves but remains upright, then stares at you intensely for three seconds before kissing your lips like they're his life source.

"My fiancée," he says, kissing down your face to your neck. "I adore you."

"Can we" — you whimper breathily — "go back to the villa and celebrate? Some wine, dessert, and... maybe some other things."

He can't propose to you while looking this good and expect you not to jump his bones.

"Sì, mi amore."

——

At the villa, palpable tension lingers in the air and throughout your body. The adrenaline from what just happened is still coursing in your blood as Harry makes a beeline straight to the master bedroom. It's only right to follow with shallow breaths and a hammering heartbeat.

Approaching the bedroom, you see Harry already taking off his shirt. You walk over and lie on the bed, waiting for him to initiate the celebration. You're usually the one who likes to be in control, but being the sexually dominant type calls for preparation and the right kind of mood. Now, at this moment, all you want is to writhe in pleasure on silk sheets and feel Harry's touch everywhere.

You're already impatiently aroused because of Harry's teasing on the drive back. His fingers were stroking the inside of your thigh, traveling up, up, up until they reached dangerous territory. He'd start to pull away after realizing how wet you already were, but you would trap his hand with your thighs, making him groan. Two could play at that game.

Now, Harry saunters over to you in nothing but his cotton shorts. His tanned skin looks tempting in the muted lamplight. The rest of the lights are off, and the moon is brightly shining in the indigo sky.

"Ready for me?" he asks lowly, hungrily glancing over your body.

You nod and bend your knees. Harry lies on his stomach and gets between your legs, his hands gripping your upper thighs with fervor. He must've put his rings on when you weren't looking. He knows you love the feeling of them. You're not picky as to where.

"Gonna let me take care of you?"

"Please. Please, Harry."

"Patience, my love. Let me see you."

"I'm right here. Do something. Please, I need you."

He shushes you with a soft timbre, scooting closer to where you need him the most. He lifts your dress, bunches the material up by your stomach, and then readjusts his grip on your thighs. His lips trail closer to your lace underwear, and he looks at you under his eyelashes. His eyes ground you, make you nervous, and leave you spellbound. Maintaining eye contact with him is hard when you know you'll come undone way too quickly from just his intense gaze. You're not giving him the benefit of that. Not tonight, at least.

Instead, you stare at the vaulted ceiling and gasp when his lips graze over your underwear. Soft, purposeful movements have you closing your thighs around your head as a reflex. Open-mouthed kisses over your wetness lace drive you crazy. You're clenching, internally soliciting for him to just do something.

"Stop teasing," you say firmly, still not looking at him.

"Don't be bossy."

"I'm not being bossy. You're my fiancé, so you're supposed to be nice to me."

He moves your underwear to the side. "Yeah? My fiancée wants me to be nice to her? I'm always nice, baby. Always good for you, you know that."

"You are, you are. It's true. The nicest man I've ever known. No one has even come close." You squirm with impatience. "Just take them off."

Harry doesn't waste any time, propping himself up to slide the material down your legs. You lift your ankles above his head to fling them off, then plant your feet back on the mattress and spread wide open so he can resume.

His mouth immediately latches onto your clit, sucking it, his nose fitting perfectly above it. You moan loudly, back arching and hands grasping his neck. You have to look at him now and watch him take care of you like only he knows how. When you do, it's a sight straight from heaven. His brows are drawn in, eyes shut, and pink lips bring you pleasure in the most intimate way.

Harry continues sucking before soothing his tongue along your entrance. Without warning, he removes his mouth and replaces it with his fingers. He dives two of them in, curling them in a way that makes you inhale sharply. His mouth occupies itself with kissing the inside of your thighs, biting little marks so you can remember this experience.

The sensations of both his fingers and mouth are overwhelming, and your hand can't help but involuntarily pull his hair.

"God," he mumbles against your thigh. "Do that again, baby."

You pull harder, and a deep, raspy moan leaves his mouth. He begins kissing along your body while his fingers continue bringing you to your peak. He adds a third as he nips your waist, his head exploring under your bunched-up dress. He props one arm up to hover himself over you. You look at him with lustful eyes, your mouth parted, soft moans escaping when he hits a particular spot. He smears a messy kiss on your lips, and you try your best to return it as his fingers thrust in and out of you.

An orgasm quickly forms in your lower stomach. Harry massages your clit with the pad of his thumb to bring you there, knowing your body and when you're about to let go like the back of his hand. He grinds against the bed to soothe his own arousal. He's been hard since your act in the car, having felt your thighs clench around his hands, his fingers so close to his favorite spot. He apparently couldn't help himself.

When Harry hits that final spot that has you crying out, you arch your back and let go. Your eyes squeeze shut as you moan from the delightful pressure freely flowing out of your body.

Harry places his mouth back on yours as you finish, removing his fingers from inside you and gripping your hips, leaving a coat of your arousal on the love bites left there. Your body is strong enough to lift yourself on your elbows and leave marks on Harry's neck. He grunts when you bite the sensitive skin below his earlobe and grinds against the bed once more, stilling and then shuddering through a fierce release.

Oh. He came from that one touch.

He falls flat on the bed, cupping himself and breathing heavily. There's a damp spot on his shorts. It's a filthy sight.

"That was embarrassing. I'm sorry," Harry murmurs, his cheek pressed against the pillow. "I thought I'd be able to last."

You brush some sweaty hair off his forehead. "It's fine. I don't have to do any work now."

"Hilarious," he says monotonously. He suddenly jumps up from the bed and shuffles to the bathroom, confusing you. You hear him wash his hands and then turn on the jacuzzi. He returns with a clean pair of boxers and smoothly lifts you from the bed. Your dress covers your exposed state, yet it doesn't hide the slick feeling between your legs. The warm water will feel amazing.

Harry gently sets you on the sink counter as the tub fills up. He grabs a washcloth and dips it under the faucet before cleaning you. It's comfortably silent, with only rushing water in the background.

When the jacuzzi is adequately filled, Harry helps you stand and remove your dress. Once naked, you quickly go to the bathroom while Harry removes his boxers. He then leads you to the jacuzzi to sit down. When he climbs in, you cling onto him for a cuddle as sleepiness washes over you. Harry presses a button to turn the jets on. Everything feels so lovely.

"I can't believe you said yes," he says.

"You knew I would. How could I possibly say no to you after a speech like that?"

"Dunno. We're, like... together forever now." He rubs the ring on your finger. "Well, not yet. But when we actually get married, it's a lifetime with each other. It's wild to think about, but I want nothing more."

"I get what you mean," you say, scrubbing the red lipstick stains on his neck with the pads of your fingers. "I want this with you too."

When you softly rub around his lips, he kisses your finger and looks at you with disbelief. You pluck his swollen bottom lip with your thumb, then lean in to plant a truthful kiss there.

Everything with him is so simple. Every touch is meaningful. Every unspoken word holds the weight of a million said. Every laugh leaves you teary-eyed with a heart full of love.

He is pure love. What he gives so naturally is exactly what he is.

Once your skin turns wrinkly and the water becomes lukewarm, you and Harry get out and dry yourselves off. He retreats to the bedroom to grab pajamas. When he returns, you put on an oversized shirt and walk out of the bathroom after draining the tub, running toward the bed and bellyflopping on it like a kid. Harry shuts the bedroom light off and flops beside you, letting out a long and blissful sigh.

"I'm hungry," he says.

You snort. "You ate a million peas not even an hour ago. How are you still hungry?"

"Sex makes me hungry. And stop making fun of my love of peas. Hey, can you get the cantaloupe? I'm knackered."

His rapid change of topics makes you laugh. "Anything for you, pea boy."

You hear him faintly whine at your new nickname for him as you stroll into the kitchen. You open the refrigerator to grab a bowl of cantaloupe cubes and then return. Harry's eyes are fluttering shut, and his limbs are spread out on the mattress. You climb over him, sitting against the headboard as he blindly reaches his hand for some fruit. He chews against the pillow, his cheeks squishing adorably.

"Thanks," he mumbles with his mouth full.

"Mm-hmm. I'm going to sleep. I'll put the bowl on the nightstand for you."

Once you've moved the cantaloupe, you scoot down and lie on your back. Harry keeps reaching for the bowl without moving his head, sometimes missing entirely and waving his hand around to find it. You eventually close your eyes, a smile making its way to your face when you realize you'll wake up tomorrow as an engaged woman next to your future husband.

Harry finishes all the fruit in the bowl and then turns off the lamp. He tugs you against his chest, and you exhale happily, his warmth effortlessly pulling you under into a deep sleep.

——

Two Weeks Later

After situating yourself in the airplane seat, you pull out your phone and open Instagram. You and Harry are on your way back from Italy. It was an unforgettable two weeks together, and not one day went by without you making new memories.

You had told only the closest people to you about the engagement—your parents and Harry's. No one else knows, so you decided to announce the news with an Instagram post. You wanted to wait until after vacation to worry about making phone calls and giving details about how it happened.

Now, you start creating a post on the fourteen-hour flight to California. You already know what picture to use — Harry cutely holding a bottle of wine along the lusciously green countryside, ready for a picnic date in a park. Also, with an impressive mustache. Throughout the ten days after the engagement, Harry had decided to grow his faint mustache into a full-fledged one. You don't know how it grew so fast, honestly. You also didn't know how to feel about it at first, but you're accustomed to liking it now. It makes him look mature.

How it feels between your thighs, well, that's a story for another day.

Harry has chosen to post a picture of the ring, gleaming brilliantly in the pink velvet box. And with him being the artsy, moderately strange social media poster, he had to add something extra to the picture — a paint swatch. Both of you spontaneously went paint shopping one day when you got bored in the villa. You had been talking to him for months about redoing the bathroom at the house, so you went to a local paint store to ogle at different options. Harry, being the sentimental and cheesy man he is, suggested painting it the color of the ring box he proposed with. You remember thinking the diluted pink would complement the white tiles and granite counter of the master bathroom perfectly.

You couldn't possibly refuse the idea, especially since it would always remind you of that special evening on the beach.

You had searched with him to find a color that resembled the box, all while goofing around and laughing at the bizarrely specific names of the swatches. You had pointed to a light green swatch appropriately named peapod and told Harry he should paint the kitchen that color since he loves peas so much. He pouted at you and dramatically walked down another aisle. Typical. And so sensitive about his peas!

Harry is sleeping beside you, his head snugly settled on a pillow propped against the airplane window while soft snores escape his mouth. You'll wait for him to wake up so you can both post at the same time. As for now, you rest your head on his shoulder to also take a nap. Harry stirs and drowsily slaps his hand onto your knee to keep you close.

You'll miss Italy's golden sunsets, good-natured people, and ethereal views. However, the thought of going home and beginning a new chapter with your fiancé doesn't sound too bad.

Bliss, in all its glory, takes hold once again.

——

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles #adore-laur #pink velvet

136 notes · View notes

themysticssdream · 9 months

Text

tangerine dream • tommy miller

Tommy Miller x F!Reader Rating: Teen and Up Words: 1.0K

Inspired by Suns Out AU's Out 🍊🍋🌿 A/N: This is one of my favorite AU's I've created with Tommy - a farmer's market off the coast of Amalfi, Italy surrounded by lemon trees and history. It's also very self-indulgent and I have no shame. Because Tommy Miller is 💕💕

Knuckles brush over your sun-kissed skin, roaming over the dips and crevices of your shoulder blade as it traces the strap of your tank top. It was a blessing and a curse, you thought, having Tommy lazily pull himself into you where he embraces you with his warmth, yet it comforted you while you relaxed again into the pillow and mattress for sleep to take over once more.

"You wanna join me in the shower?" Tommy's deep drawl makes itself known, slurring his words against your shoulder when he too is having a hard time waking up.

You smile into the pillow, slowly peeling open your eyes to find his earthy eyes searching yours as he awaited your answer. His tight curls that were always kept in place with gel, is now soft and springing free. You wanted to run your hands through his hair, to feel every curl as it straightened out and then bounced back in place before repeating, but the thought of it was too much for your worn out body.

"Any other time I would have said yes," you mumbled sheepishly against the pillow. "I want to make us some breakfast."

Tommy's grin is lopsided while he inches closer to you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck to softly peck at your jawline. "A shower will wake you up, il mio miele."

His Italian mixed with his southern accent, along with his lips starting to nibble at your earlobe makes you chuckle, and you found the small energy to prop yourself up on your elbows. From under hooded eyes you watched Tommy press light kisses on your arm. "So will freshly squeezed orange juice and a good breakfast."

He let's out a playful groan, resting his forehead against your arm before pulling away and slipping out of bed. "That breakfast better be the best damn meal I've had for my darlin' to skip an invitation to the shower."

You sat up slowly, stretching out your arms upwards, your muscles aching from the day before. "Can I get a raincheck?"

He stalls at the door frame to the bathroom, slipping off his night shirt and flings it at your direction, giving you a cheeky smile. "That raincheck pile is growin' thick, darlin'."

Tommy leaves the door open, the sound of the streaming water hitting the tiles of the shower. You swing your legs from under the sheets and onto the wooden floor, looking out the window that faces the coast of Amalfi. It was going to be another long day, but at least you weren't going to be busy selling goods at the farmers market, rather walking and enjoying the city streets to get to know your new home.

You had a hard time deciding what to make, and you let your mind wander, finally making a decision on the ingredients you had on the counter from other vendors you purchased from.

The kitchen filled with the savory aromas from the bread heating in the oven and the tomatoes grilling on the pan. You couldn't help but eat a few spoonfuls of the homemade ricotta cheese, the texture soft and delicious on your tongue.

The heavy footsteps behind you gave himself away, and before you could turn around to greet him, Tommy wrapped his arms around your middle and kissed your temple. His hands roamed at your curves, pinching the heavy fabric that was draped loose over your form.

"I was looking for this shirt." He mutters against your cheek.

The two of you smile in unison, and you let out a mixture of a laugh and scoff. "It's not like this is the only shirt you own, Tommy."

"It looks better on you than me."

"I can easily argue on that one with you."

"You can't fool me, darlin'." He gives you a heavy peck on the cheek before sneaking his hand to the counter to grab a cherry tomato, popping it in his mouth. He's pulling away, resting his waist against the counter to watch you cook. "What's the plan today?"

You told him of a local bakery that sells bread in the shapes of fish and seashells you wanted to try, and a tiny bookstore that nestled in between a seafood restaurant and family owned grocery store.

"Sounds like a good day." He says with a smile.

You take one look at him - his curls naturally pulled back and a few strays stick to his forehead and temples. His tank top hugs his thick body almost perfectly, showing off his soft curves and toned arms. The tank is tucked inside of his dark jeans, and he had decided to forgo his signature belt buckle.

"Forgot to mention how proud I am of you," he says out of the blue, turning so his back faces the counter and resting his palms at the edge of it. "Growin' all these vegetables and fruit, then havin' the courage to let people purchase them?" He lightly whistles and shakes his head. "It's hard work, darlin'."

You smile at his words, keeping the tears that start to make itself known in your eyes at bay while you turn your attention away from the stove and towards Tommy. You stepped in front of him, standing on your toes to wrap you arms around his neck so you're able to be somewhat level at him. "I couldn't have done it without you. You encouraged me. And you decided to stay a bit longer in Italy to build me a greenhouse."

"You know I didn't stay just for the greenhouse." Tommy's eyes sparkle when he says those words to you, and his hand moves up and down your spine.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. "How many times are you going to make me swoon? I can't fall even more in love with you, Tommy."

"I think I can push it a little bit further, darlin'."

You lean in to press a kiss at his cheek, then you move lower to settle your lips against his neck just before his earlobe. You catch the scent of him, it wasn't his usual body wash he uses, rather it was of yours. "Tommy?"

"Mmm?"

"Did you use my body wash?"

"Yeah," he presses you closer into his chest. "Made it seem like you were in the shower with me."

You laughed against his shoulder. "You're never going to let that up, are you?"

"Never darlin'."

tag list - @goldgilzean @ay0nha @itsmoonchik @musings-of-a-rose-writes @poedameronloverx @mandeepandee1997 @yourlocalmerchgirl

#tommy miller #the last of us #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller fan fiction #tommy miller x you #gabriel luna

38 notes · View notes

tpwkwriter · 1 year

Text

Golden.

A Short and Sweet idea from this lovely anon! ❤️

Pure fluff<3

—————

The Italian sun looked good on H, the way his eyes glittered in the sun, the way his skin slightly browned under the Amalfi Heat.

The couple had decided on going for a getaway, somewhere only they knew, just to forget about the world for a while.

The Familiar Amalfi coast is where they agreed on, the constant sun, the Beautiful oceans and perfect sunset views.

Y/n sat Edge of the Pool dangling her feet on the water while basking in the last of the sunshine, meanwhile her boyfriend was fully engrossed in the pool enjoying the sight of the sky and his girl.

“Hey Angel girl” he says gently wrapping both his hands on her ankles.

“Hey baby” she sighs contently.

“Come in with me?”

“Baby it’s freezing cold” she smiles

“Y’warm up” he says run king bis Palms up and down her legs, almost preparing her for the cold water.

“Harryyyy”

“Please angel” he says almost giving the Girl Major puppy eyes.

“Fine but only if we can watch the sunset together” she pouted.

“Whatever y’say”

Y/n used one of his shoulders to stabilise herself and slid right into the pool.

“Oh shit” she hissed once her body was now engulfed by the water.

“Sssshh c’mere” he said not hesitating to pull her in.

After Moments of Messing around and playing in the water like childeren y/n initially forgot about the ‘cold water’

A comfortable silence was cast upon them, when they found them self enjoying the view that was ahead of them.

“Thank you for bringing me here H”

Without a single thought he makes his way over to his girl.

“S’no problem, we needed this hey?” He said snaking his toned arms around the girls waist and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Y’so perfect” he blurts shamelessly.

“H” she giggles

“M’serious, don’t know how I got so lucky with you”

3 years of a relationship and the butterflies never left y/n’s stomach After any compliment or act of love from him.

“Harry” she blushed

“And y’all mine” he said gently taking her hand and spinning her in the water to fully Face her.

Y/n placed her arms over his shoulders, allowing her hands to dangle just behind his neck.

“What’s with the compliments styles?” She smiled.

“Jus appreciating my girlfriend”

“Sure” she giggled

“This is lovely tho H, the whole place, you didn’t have to do this” she interjects

“Y’know I did, can’t beat this hm?” He hummed running his finger up and down her hips

“My golden girl” he says pressing a sweet chaste kiss to her lips.

That’s when the girl had seriously melted into his touch.

#harry styles #harry styles au #my fic writing #fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #hs #fine line harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #anon request #anon reply #enjoy 🫶🏼

107 notes · View notes

twostepstyless · 1 year

Note

how are our ARLTY lovies doing? :(( miss them!!! 🥹

Oh my god!! the fact that you miss them??? Ouch I miss them SO much too, shall we have a little check in with them?

Read the original one shot here :))

Masterlist

2.3k words

***

The rest of the trip flew by. Well, it would do when the pair were surrounded by a pink, glittery haze of their newly professed love. After Harry had gone back into the villa to lock the balcony doors and they left Amalfi, they cut across Italy, through Salerno and Potenza before arriving in Bari where they spent a few days traipsing round the maze of narrow, cobbled streets of the old town and walking through galleries and museums while nudging hips and the brushes of hands against one another’s. The pair took turns on the drive alongside the Adriatic coast, stopping for day trips and overnights. They had no plan so pulled in wherever they fancied, or when something caught their eye. Funnily enough, the weird, dodgy sound coming from the engine had disappeared and was now a distant memory as they made their way to Venice. Venice was… well… bloody Venice. They wandered down paved streets hand in hand, and they took a gondola ride as night fell on their first evening. As the sun set around them their gondolier told them the romantic legend of the Bridge of Sighs and urged the young couple to share a kiss as they floated under the bridge so they could bask in eternal love.

“What a load of old shit,” Y/N had snorted quietly to Harry as they approached the bridge as she was cuddled up to his side.

“Oi, it’s romantic,” Harry jabbed her side playfully before looping his arm around her shoulders and playing with the ends of her hair that fell there.

“It’s the gondola companies capitalist wet dream is what it is, look at all the boats lined up,” she giggled thinking about how many young couples must pay a premium to come to this spot every day.

Harry laughed as he noticed the queue of boats himself, “hm, so no kiss then?” he asked just as they were about to sail under.

“Well, I never said that” Y/N whispered turning her neck to face him as he was already leaning in. She planted her lips on his and indulged in the feel of his lips moving against her own, honouring the legend even if it was used as a ploy to make money nowadays.

Venice continued to be perfect. Harry held his clumsy girl steady on the landings that bobbed in the water of the Vaporetto water taxis, taking her hand in his, helping her to board. They spent a day and two entire reels of film in Burano taking in the brightly coloured houses that were even brighter and even more sweet-like than the ones they saw in Naples. The colours paired with the sun shining above them made for beautifully hazy pictures of the two of them with the houses at bright backdrops. Harry had Y/N posing for him every few metres that left him overwhelmed with options for his phones new home screen. He settled on one with her hand raised to stop him a faux glare gracing her face as he stopped her again to take her photo.

The toured a lacemakers on Burano and Y/N went back with scraps of the handmade lace in her hands that she knew was going straight into the scrapbook she planned to make of this trip. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off her as her fingers toyed with the lace and ran delicately over the top of it appreciating the floral designs and the craftmanship that went into making even the little pieces she was going away with. Their favourite stop was at the Libreria Acqua Alta, the most beautiful bookshop the pair had ever seen, the Waterstones on the high street near both their houses paled in comparison to this. Stacks of books littered the place, but what really sold it to the pair was that the slew of books were displayed in buckets, boats and bathtubs to save them from flooding when the canals overflow into the shop. They spent a while looking at all the books with Harry buying a few of his favourites in Italian so he could get better at learning the language. She watched him from an aisle over, his brow furrowed as he read over the blurb on the back of a particular book in his hand, eyes flitting over the words before deciding to buy it and depositing it on the growing pile of books he had accumulated. He looked up to find her, but seeing her gaze already on him as they smiled to each other before Harry went over to grab her own pile of books to carry for her.

***

It was November now, and the stack of books with worn edges and pretty leatherbound spines Y/N had bought from the little shop in Venice sat pride of place in the bookshelves of her flats living room. She was sat criss-cross on the floor in front of her coffee table with her supplies spilling over the edges of the small table and onto the floor, a large square book opened onto a blank page in front of her. She rifled through the bundle of freshly developed photographs trying to find a specific shot of her and her best friend. It was a photo from a few months ago on a road trip they had taken. It was a photo of them on a walk one evening in Positano, they were walking side by side down the middle of the road watching the sunset when a stranger stopped the pair and asked if she could take a photo of them as they looked like such a beautiful couple and they should remember their evening with a picture. How little the stranger knew that the beautiful couple had only became a couple a short 12 hours before that. But as the setting sun burnt the sky a rich orange that faded to pink then into blue behind them, Harry and Y/N were photographed leaning against the railing that looked over the water, arms wrapped around one another with radiant smiles plastered on their faces as the stranger took the first official photo of the pair as a couple. Y/N looked fondly down as she pasted the photo into her scrapbook with the glue stick that she had to peel a layer of crust off as she had left the lid off for too long. She wrote the date under the photograph before flipping through the book again, seeing the U.K sticker they peeled off the car when they arrived back next to the photo of them outside the car before they left, the photo of an unsuspecting Harry getting to drive through the big tunnel he was so desperate to do, the two of them standing in front of the candy-coloured houses in both Naples and Burano caught on film and glued into her book, a strip cut off from the silk scarf Harry had tied round her neck, to live out her best Audrey Hepburn fantasy, was in the book next to one of the numerous photos of Y/N that Harry had taken that evening. She was just starting a new page with the scraps of lace from Burano getting pasted in when she heard a key jiggle in the lock of her front door. Now, only Y/N’s mum and one other person had a key to the flat and her mum was currently in her hometown to that left the latter as who it could be.

“Girlfriend, where are you?” he sang from the entryway as he shed his coat from his shoulders before putting it in her coat cupboard in the hallway. She heard his shoes get kicked off his feet in a clatter against the wooden floor.

“I’m in the living room, boyfriend,” Y/N called back not looking up from her task at hand as she heard his socked feet pad up the hall towards her.

“Evening, my love, wha’s all this?” Harry asked standing next to her, peering down at her covered coffee table and the opened scrapbook.

“Went to the craft shop today, went a bit mental, here I am, finally making the scrapbook from our trip,” she spoke as she pressed down on the piece of lace to stick it in place before looking up at him, “hi pretty,” she sighed out smiling up at him from her place on the floor.

“‘Went a bit mental,’ yeah I can see that,” Harry laughed leaning down to peel a letter H sticker from her forehead before showing it to her on the pad of his index finger.

“Oh! I was looking for that,” she carefully peeled the sticker from his fingertip and flicked to the front page of the book to complete the sentence that formerly read as ‘Arry and Y/N’s Roadtrip.’ “There we go,” she stuck it in place, even if it was a little squint on the page. “Help me up?” Y/N pouted up at him raising her hands up in front of him. Harry popped the plastic bag for life onto her couch to grip both her hands in his pulling her up from her spot.

“Hmm, finally,” Harry groaned as he finally got to kiss her hello. A deep, slow kiss as his tongue licked into her mouth just a little bit before he pulled back with three short pecks, muttering a ‘hi,’ against her kiss softened lips.

“Hm, what’s with the bag,” she glanced down to her couch as if to remind him.

“My turn to cook tonight, isn’t it?” Harry asked lifting the bag and walking towards her kitchen setting it on the side before helping Y/N pop herself up to sit on the countertop when she followed him in. “Did y’know they charge 30 bloody pence for a bag for life nowadays,” Harry sighed as he stood between her legs wanting to be close to her after a long day and last night without her.

“It’s so we stop using plastic H, where were your reusable ones?” asking as she rest her forearms on his shoulders pulling him in closely and letting her hand card through the back of his hair.

“Left them in the car and couldn’t carry everything without one,” he muttered before holding back a moan at the satisfaction of her nails scraping lightly against his scalp.

“How was the studio?” Y/N questioned him as he untangled himself from her for a second to unpack his shopping bag so he could start preparing dinner.

“Hm, was good I think, felt like a good day today,” he mused, sniffing his fresh produce quickly, still didn’t smell as good or as fresh as what they bought in Italy.

“Write anything good?” Y/N reached behind her to grab the two cutting boards he would need.

“Yeah, think so,” Harry smiled, remembering what he got out today and thinking about what inspired it.

“Let me hear some?” she asked playfully, knowing already she had absolutely no chance until Harry was ready to share it with her.

“Nice try, baby, not yet” Harry came back to stand between her legs, reaching forward to quickly push her hair back off her face.

Y/N scrunched her nose and grumbled, “tell me what it’s about at least,” batting her eyelashes flirtatiously to try and convince him.

Kissing the pout from her lips, tasting the balm she was using to fight off the chapping the ever-increasing winter wind was causing as London grew colder and colder.

“Hmm, I’m not sure,” Harry teased.

“Oh H, please,” she whined hopping down from the counter, standing on her tiptoes she brushed her nose against his, the tip of his own still tinged pink and a little cold from being outside, before resting her chin on his chest to gaze up at him.

Harry breathed out a huff of laughter his hands cupping her face, thumbs brushing across the tops of her cheeks as she leant into his touch

“Driving,” he stated

“Driving?” she puzzled head tilting to the side.

“The songs about driving,” he said softly. Memories of the road trip that changed it all for the flourishing couple rushed through both their minds simultaneously, Harry’s like a movie in his mind and Y/N’s all the pasted pages of her scrapbook that she had worked on all day. Smiles graced both of their faces, knowingly, but not one of the two saying it aloud. Harry let out a hum of laughter, almost bashful sounding before he pulled her into a kiss. His lips nipping her bottom lip between them.

Harry was cooking dinner when Y/N spoke up again as she watched him stir the sauce with a tea towel draped across his shoulder.

“My wish came true by the way,” she spoke from behind him as he turned to face her, closing the distance by pulling her into his chest.

“Wish?” Harry puzzled, resting his forehead on hers, the innate need to be close to her waving its flag.

“My wish I wouldn’t tell y’about at the Trevi, it came true,” she whispered the sound of food bubbling away on the stove almost drowning her out.

“Mine too,” Harry pulled back to look into her eyes before leaning down to kiss his love.

“Now feed me, Styles,” Y/N proclaimed as they broke apart. Harry laughed as he turned round grabbing the spoon from the sauce and holding it up for her to taste. As she leant to taste it, the sauce fell from the spoon and down her shirt that was partly covered by the soft cotton dungarees she wore. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, that was your fault this time,” she whined as she began to shimmy out of the t-shirt from under her overalls, and to Harry this all felt a bit too much like déjà vu.

#anon #ask #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #one direction #one direction fanfiction #harry edward styles #harry fanfic #harry styles friends to lovers #friends to lovers

136 notes · View notes

rgnaroc · 1 year

Text

♡ 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐤

finished commission: click the source link below to be redirected to 570 gifs (268x151px) of nicolas maupas in ‘ un professore ’ ‘ under the amalfi sun ‘ and ‘ mare fuori ‘. all of these were made by me from scratch so don’t claim as your own or redistribute. please like/reblog if you found this helpful. possible tw: kissing, eating, guns, violence, flashlights.

#nicolas maupas gif pack #gif pack #gif hunt #nicolas maupas #gif society #mine.#gif commissions #thank you ♥

72 notes · View notes

dramaticals · 4 months

Text

Under the Amalfi Sun (2022)

#absolutely very boyfriend!theo #lorenzozurzoloedit #lzurzoloedit #under the amalfi sun #lorenzo zurzolo #ludovica martino #ludovicamartinoedit #theodore nott #theo nott #*gifs #*

206 notes · View notes

serendipity-in-love · 3 months

Text

Under the Amalfi Sun (2022)

#under the amalfi sun #lorenzo zurzolo #movie #movies #movie quotes

12 notes · View notes

toomuchracket · 10 months

Note

Anytime I think of Ross I just see gorgeous European holiday in the sun

somewhere deep in the trenches of this blog i've written about him proposing on the amalfi coast - i am OBSESSED with the thought of going on a little italian getaway with him. and given that he's supposedly good with history, let's talk about going to rome with ross, wandering around looking at the trevi fountain and st peter's basilica and castel sant'angelo and the colosseum; you turn to ross when you're touring the latter to be like "this is so cool because of the history and all, but frankly i'm mostly excited about being here because of the lizzie mcguire movie lol", and he rolls his eyes and calls you daft but giggles and smiles at you like you hung the moon (and then he kisses you quickly, probably to stop you bursting into a rendition of what dreams are made of lmaoooo). and you spend some time in museums and galleries too - ross posts a very pinterest-y pic of you looking at some art to insta and unironically captions it "she thought the art was pretty but i think she's prettier" - but most of your days are spent walking around in the sun, drinking espresso and eating gelato, just looking at the architecture and taking as much in as you can. and then it's back to the hotel for a rest (although spooning on such a comfy bed with your man never really ends up in sleep, if you know what i mean...) before getting ready and going back out for pasta and wine under candlelight; the nights tend to end with both of you nearing tipsiness as you walk back to the hotel, ross inevitably scooping you up and carrying you when your heels start to falter on the cobblestones. it's relaxed, and oh so romantic - just perfect, really <3

#mads muses #mads answers asks #ross asks #fluff asks

22 notes · View notes

enthusiasticharry · 2 years

Note

hey there!! i was wondering if you still do requests, so i thought about being harry’s girlfriend for a while and always wanting to visit italy, and since he has a house there, he decides to surprise the reader with a vacation trip! :)

Surprise Trips

summary: harry surprises you with a trip to italy because he knows you want to go.

word count: 1k of gut wrenching fluff. i haven't written in a while so bare with me but inspiration came when i saw this ask so thank you ever so much!!

You woke up thinking that this Saturday was just like any other regular Saturday, but Harry knew that this Saturday was soon going to become one that you would never forget.

The day did start like any other day. The mainly dark bedroom was lit up by a streak of sunlight escaping in through a gap in the curtains, and whilst both you and Harry knew that it was probably time to wake up, you both just snuggled in closer to each other.

That wasn’t an unusual practice for the two of you at the weekend. It had been a busy week for you teaching your year three class and Harry had spent a lot of his time in the studio working on his new album. You felt as though you both deserved those few extra minutes in bed. It was also the first day of your Spring Bank holiday which you believe means you are doubly-deserving of those few extra minutes in bed.

Nothing, to your knowledge, had been planned for this weekend and these were often your favorite weekends with Harry – where the day was up for the two of you to spend it however you please.

You didn’t know the time and you didn’t want to know the time. It could be seven in the morning or ten in the morning and it wouldn’t matter to you. That is until you heard Harry’s alarm go off. You groan and try to furrow your face further into Harry’s chest. You were asleep before Harry came to bed so you didn’t know that he had set an alarm.

“Baby, you need to let go so I can turn it off,” Harry chuckles, his finger dancing along your back just above the waistline of your shorts.

“Why is it on in the first place?” You mumble, lifting up slightly and slotting down next to him on the bed.

“Because we need to get up,” You groan at his words and pull the duvet further over your head, “Okay, none of that.”

He attempts to wrestle the duvet from over your head, and when he succeeds you look up at him with a pout on your lips. He leans down and places a quick kiss to your pouty lips and a smile immediately replaces the pout.

“Why are we getting up?” Standing up, you help Harry to make the bed. You honestly feel like a zombie of sorts, but you manage to help with very few complaints from yourself, “What time even is it?”

“It’s eight,” He smiles, “And you have an hour and a half to get ready and pack a bag before we leave.”

“Pack a bag?” You raise an eyebrow at him, not knowing what your boyfriend had under his sleeve, “Where are we going?”

“Just pack for a week in somewhere hot,” He grins, a slight cheeky hint in his eyes, “And I’ll do the rest.”

You shake your head, “You and your scheming.”

.ೃ࿐

If there was one thing that you want to do in your life it is to go to Italy. You want to experience basking under the Italian sun, eating all of the delicious Italian food that you could get your hands on and explore all of the hidden gems of the new country that you are in.

In your nearly two years of being with Harry, all you’ve ever said to him when he’s spoken about his own experiences in Italy was that you wanted to go. Since the two of you had made the plunge to move in with each other a few months ago, he knew that he had to do something special for you – and he knew that booking you a trip to Italy was the thing he was going to do.

The two of you are in the car, on your way to Harry’s house on the Amalfi Coast when you turn to him with the biggest grin on your face that you could muster. He turns to your grinning face and accepts the kiss that you wish to give him.

“What was that for?” He places another kiss on the top of your head.

“To thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” He places another kiss on your lips, “The look on your face is enough.”

The house that you pull up to is gorgeous. It’s exactly as it looks in the pictures that Harry has shown you and what he’s described it as. You are exhausted from the flight that you’d been on that morning, but you couldn’t contain your excitement as you walk up to the house.

When Harry passes you the key to the house, you don’t hesitate to run up to the door and throw it open. You can hear Harry laugh as he follows you with his suitcases.

You look left and right as you walk through the entrance of the house, basking in its gloriousness. The first thing your eyes are drawn too, however, is the large sliding doors that open up towards the garden and pool. You couldn’t believe that the man you love has his own pool, but here you are standing in front of it.

Dropping your bag by the couch in the lounge, you rush over to the doors and push them open. You’re immediately enveloped in the setting Italian sun, and even though it's nearing towards the evening there is still the heat that is just perfect.

“Why did I know this is where I’d find you?” You laugh as Harry wraps his arms around your waist.

You lean into his touch, “Because you know me so well.”

“I do,” He nods, and you turn your head slightly to press a kiss to his lips again.

“I’m in awe of this place, Harry,” You sigh against him, “I can’t believe that it's yours.”

“It’s ours,” He mumbles, grazing his lips against your neck, “It’s ours. It’ll be our place to come and relax and then when we have our family, we’ll bring them here during the school holidays. It's ours, baby."

You beam another smile at him, “I can’t wait.”

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles drabble #harry styles fluff #italy!harry

250 notes · View notes

oonajaeadira · 2 years

Text

WINKTOBER DAY 8: Cream Pie (Javi Gutierrez)

Oh, come on now...it’s pie. I am romantically obligated to go with Sweets Series’ Javi G and Girl Sunday.

He’s been like this for two days, pacing aimlessly–in his office, in your office, around the pool, and now down on the beach of your private little cove–and you’ve been chewing your nails for almost as long as you watch him and worry over him while he waits for that call.

You’ve been able to take his mind off of it here and there, but no distraction seems to last long.

If only you could put him on a plane and take him somewhere, somewhere relaxing and happy like you both were on your recent working vacation to the Amalfi Coast or–oh, that’s it!

There’s still half a bottle of limoncello that you brought home from the Coast–a reminder of nights sitting under the stars sipping its sweetness in the surf together–and Néstor has just restocked the pantry, so you roll up your sleeves and begin with the graham cracker crust.

An hour later the sun is just beginning to set as you carry two forks and a chilled limoncello cream pie down to the beach where Javi is sitting–or rather, yearning–out over the water, and you cuddle down beside him, gently forcing a fork into his big, warm hand.

A little smile from him means the distraction is working; a bigger smile when he takes a bite means he too remembers your vacation (and the way you kissed him in the moonlight); but you know your worries are at an end with the biggest smile comes when his phone lights up with a text and you wipe his happy tears as he sobs, “Pichurri, it is happening; they are going to option my script!”

---

WINKTOBER 2022 MASTERLIST

#winktober #six sentence ficlets #tuwomt fanfic #javi gutierrez #javi g x girl sunday

146 notes · View notes

star-wars-writing · 3 months

Text

A coastal proposal

A/N: Hey everyone! Excited to share my latest piece for the@codywanbingo, focusing on 'Proposal' and 'Vacation.' Consider this a sequel to 'Beyond the Script,' where I've blended the prompts into a story I hope you'll love. Dive in and let me know your thoughts!

The first kiss of the Mediterranean sun greeted Obi-Wan Kenobi and Cody Fett as they stepped onto the sun-drenched cobblestones of Amalfi. The air, fragrant with the scent of the sea and blossoming lemons, enveloped them in a tender embrace, whispering of ancient tales and modern romances intertwined along the coastline.

Obi-Wan, his eyes reflecting the cerulean hues of the sea, stood for a moment, absorbing the vista before them. The Amalfi Coast, a symphony of colors, lay sprawled in its timeless glory - the azure of the sky melting seamlessly into the sea, the pastel shades of the buildings clinging to the cliffs like a painter's dream.

Cody, standing a step behind, watched Obi-Wan with a fond, almost reverent gaze. There was something about the way the sunlight played with Obi-Wan's hair, casting a halo around him, that made Cody's heart swell with an emotion too profound for words. He saw the tension, always lurking in Obi-Wan's shoulders from the constant scrutiny of Hollywood, melt away under the Italian sun.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Obi-Wan murmured, his voice a soft echo of the gentle waves below.

"It's incredible," Cody agreed, his voice carrying a note of awe, not just for the scenery but for the man beside him, who seemed to belong in this picturesque setting, a timeless figure amidst the beauty.

As they walked through the narrow streets, their hands found each other, fingers intertwining naturally, a silent testament to their shared journey. The locals, accustomed to tourists, paid them little mind, allowing them a privacy that was a rare luxury in their usual life. Obi-Wan's fame, which often preceded him, seemed to dissolve in the Italian air, leaving behind just Obi-Wan the man, not the actor.

They stopped at a small café, nestled between a quaint bookstore and a vibrant flower shop. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries wafted through the air, inviting them in. As they settled at a corner table, the café owner greeted them with a warm, toothy smile, her eyes crinkling in a way that reminded Cody of his grandmother.

Obi-Wan ordered in fluent Italian, his accent perfect to Cody's untrained ear. The owner's face lit up at his words, and she chatted animatedly, gesturing towards the pastries with pride. Obi-Wan listened, nodding and smiling, completely at ease. Cody watched this exchange, a feeling of contentment settling over him. Here, Obi-Wan wasn't a star; he was just another traveler, another soul enchanted by the magic of Italy.

As they sipped their coffee, their conversation flowed effortlessly. They spoke of trivial things – the quaintness of the café, the book titles in the shop next door, the vibrancy of the flowers on the streets. But underlying each word, each laugh, was a deeper current of connection, a profound understanding of each other that went beyond the spoken language.

Cody watched as a group of tourists passed by their window, their faces alight with the joy of discovery. He turned back to Obi-Wan, his eyes lingering on the curve of his smile, the gentle crinkles around his eyes. In that moment, with the Italian sun casting a golden glow around them, Cody knew this was where they were meant to be. Not just physically in this charming café in Amalfi, but together, side by side, facing whatever the future held.

And as Obi-Wan caught his gaze, a silent communication passed between them, a promise of this moment and many more to come, each one a thread in the tapestry of their life together. In the heart of Amalfi, they were just two souls, bound by love, surrounded by beauty, and embarking on a journey that was their own.

***

As the afternoon sun began its descent, casting a softer light over the Amalfi Coast, Obi-Wan and Cody left the café, stepping back into the narrow, winding streets that seemed to pulse with the life of Italy itself. Around them, the town thrummed with the harmonious chaos of everyday life – locals exchanging greetings, laughter spilling from open windows, scooters zipping through the streets, their engines a humming backdrop to the coastal symphony.

Walking side by side, they made their way towards the seafront, drawn by the siren call of the Tyrrhenian Sea. The path wound down towards the water, flanked by buildings awash in sun-faded yellows, pinks, and oranges, their shutters thrown open to embrace the sea breeze. Flower boxes overflowed with vibrant blooms, their colors a vivid contrast against the pastel walls.

As they reached the promenade, Obi-Wan paused, leaning against the balustrade, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the sea and sky merged in a dance of blues. The sea, a canvas of ever-changing hues, reflected the shifting light of the sky, its surface dotted with the white sails of distant boats.

Cody stood beside him, observing Obi-Wan's profile against the backdrop of the sea. He noticed the subtle relaxation in Obi-Wan's posture, the ease in his expression. It was as if the sea had the power to wash away the residue of their life in Los Angeles, leaving behind something raw and real.

"It never ceases to amaze me," Obi-Wan said quietly, his voice tinged with a hint of wonder. "The way the sea can be both tumultuous and tranquil, all at once."

Cody nodded, his gaze still on Obi-Wan. "Much like life, I suppose. Full of ups and downs, but beautiful in its entirety."

Obi-Wan turned to look at Cody, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I couldn't have put it better myself," he said. His eyes, mirroring the depth of the sea, held a warmth that spoke volumes. There was a comfort in this shared silence, a language they had come to understand and cherish.

As they resumed their walk along the promenade, their conversation ebbed and flowed like the gentle waves lapping at the shore. They spoke of the future, of dreams yet to be realized, and adventures yet to be embarked upon. But underlying their words was an unspoken acknowledgment of the present, of the preciousness of these moments together.

They stopped at a gelateria, lured by the promise of homemade gelato. As they sampled flavors – Obi-Wan favoring the classic stracciatella, Cody opting for a bold pistachio – their laughter mingled with the lively chatter of the shop. The gelato was a burst of sweetness on their tongues, a simple pleasure magnified by the joy of sharing it with each other.

Leaving the gelateria, they continued their stroll, the sun now a fiery orb kissing the edge of the sea. Around them, the town began to shift from the languid pace of the afternoon to the vibrant energy of the evening. Lights twinkled on in the houses and along the streets, casting a golden glow on the cobblestones.

As night fell, they found themselves at a small trattoria, tucked away in a corner of the town. The atmosphere inside was cozy, the air filled with the aroma of garlic, basil, and simmering tomatoes. They were shown to a table by the window, a candle flickering softly between them.

Over dinner, they delved into deeper conversations, exploring topics that touched the core of their beings. Obi-Wan spoke of his roles, of the characters that had left imprints on his soul, of the blurred lines between reality and the personas he portrayed. Cody listened, his eyes never leaving Obi-Wan's face, seeing not the actor, but the man he had come to love – complex, thoughtful, and endlessly fascinating.

Cody shared his own reflections, of the transition from bodyguard to partner, of the challenges and joys it brought. He spoke of his aspirations, of a life that was no longer defined by the protection of others but enriched by the love he shared with Obi-Wan.

Their conversation was a tapestry of shared experiences and individual dreams, woven together by the threads of their deep connection. They spoke not just with words, but with glances, touches, and smiles – a language that was uniquely theirs.

As they left the trattoria, the night enveloping them in its embrace, they walked hand in hand, lost in their world. The Amalfi Coast, with its timeless beauty and rhythmic pulse, had become a witness to their love – a love that was as vast as the sea, as enduring as the cliffs, and as vibrant as the life that coursed through the streets of the coastal towns.

In this corner of the world, they were not actor and former bodyguard; they were Obi-Wan and Cody, two souls on a journey of love and discovery, their hearts beating in unison with the timeless rhythm of the Amalfi Coast.

***

In the ensuing days, Obi-Wan and Cody immersed themselves in the essence of the Amalfi Coast, their journey a tapestry of experiences, each thread woven with the joy of discovery and the depth of their connection. The historic streets of Positano offered a kaleidoscope of sights, sounds, and scents, the air rich with the aroma of freshly baked bread and the salty tang of the sea.

As they meandered through the vibrant marketplace, their hands occasionally brushing, Obi-Wan's gaze was drawn to a stall adorned with an array of hand-painted ceramics. "These are exquisite," he murmured, tracing the intricate patterns with a finger, his eyes reflecting the vivid blues and yellows of the pottery.

Cody watched him, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You always had an eye for beauty," he said, his tone light yet laced with an undercurrent of admiration. "Remember that painting you picked out for our living room? I never would've given it a second glance, but it's perfect."

Obi-Wan looked up, meeting Cody's gaze, a soft laugh escaping his lips. "Ah, but you have your strengths too," he replied, his eyes crinkling with mirth. "Who else would've thought to pair that antique lamp with our modern decor? You have a knack for blending the old and new."

Their conversation, a playful dance of compliment and jest, continued as they left the marketplace, their newly acquired ceramic piece carefully wrapped and tucked under Obi-Wan's arm. They talked of ordinary things – of home, of favorite meals, of mundane chores – yet in their words lay the extraordinary nature of their shared life.

The journey to Ravello was a winding ascent, the road snaking up through the hills, offering breathtaking views of the coastline. The lush gardens of Ravello awaited them, a verdant paradise suspended between sky and sea. As they walked along the pathways, flanked by blooming flowers and ancient statues, the beauty of the place seemed to mirror the beauty of their relationship – vibrant, alive, and full of hidden depths.

Obi-Wan paused by a bed of roses, their petals a delicate blush against the green. "I've always loved roses," he said, his voice a whisper, as if sharing a secret with the flowers themselves. "There's something about their elegance, their resilience... they thrive even amidst thorns."

Cody, standing beside him, nodded, his eyes not on the roses, but on Obi-Wan. "Just like us, huh?" he mused, his voice tinged with a quiet strength. "We've had our share of thorns, challenges... but here we are, thriving."

Obi-Wan turned to him, a tender smile spreading across his face. "Yes, here we are," he echoed, his hand reaching out to gently grasp Cody's. "And I wouldn't change a thing."

Their stroll through the gardens was a journey through their memories, each flower, each turn of the path evoking a story, a shared moment. They spoke of past hardships with a reflective honesty, of triumphs with a quiet pride, their conversation a testament to the depth of their understanding and the strength of their bond.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a golden light over the gardens, Obi-Wan and Cody found a secluded spot, a bench overlooking the vast expanse of the sea. Sitting side by side, they watched in silence as the sky transformed into a canvas of fiery oranges and purples, the sun's final performance before nightfall.

"It's moments like these that I'll cherish forever," Obi-Wan said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if in reverence to the spectacle before them. "With you, every ordinary moment becomes extraordinary."

Cody turned to him, his eyes reflecting the colors of the sunset. "And with you, every day is an adventure, a story waiting to be written," he replied, his words a mirror to Obi-Wan's sentiments. "I can't imagine my life without these moments, without you."

As the last rays of the sun disappeared, leaving behind a sky strewn with stars, Obi-Wan and Cody sat in comfortable silence, lost in their thoughts, yet united in their emotions. In the heart of Ravello's gardens, under the canopy of the night sky, they found not just the beauty of the world around them, but the beauty of their love – a love as enduring as the ancient hills, as vast as the sea, and as radiant as the stars above.

***

Under the veil of night, the Amalfi Coast transformed into a realm of quiet whispers and shadowed pathways, a stark contrast to the vibrant tapestry of the day. Obi-Wan and Cody, their hands interlocked, wandered through the dimly lit streets of Amalfi, their path illuminated by sporadic streetlights that cast a soft, golden glow.

The air was cool and crisp, the earlier warmth of the day now a memory, replaced by a gentle breeze that carried with it the faint scent of the sea and night-blooming jasmine. They walked in comfortable silence, occasionally exchanging glances and soft smiles, each step an affirmation of their shared journey.

As they turned a corner, they stumbled upon a small, lively piazza where a group of musicians played a lilting melody, their notes floating through the air like a serenade to the night. People gathered around, some swaying to the music, others simply enjoying the impromptu concert.

A few passersby glanced at Obi-Wan, recognition flickering in their eyes, but they offered nothing more than a respectful nod or a discreet smile. The anonymity granted to them in this foreign land was a cherished gift, allowing Obi-Wan to shed the cloak of celebrity and simply be, his true self unveiled in the presence of Cody and the embracing night.

Amidst the music and the subdued chatter of the crowd, Cody's gaze was fixed on Obi-Wan, a mixture of love and an unspoken anxiety simmering beneath his calm exterior. In just a couple of days, he would be proposing to Obi-Wan, a moment he had meticulously planned yet now approached with a growing nervousness.

"Let's dance," Obi-Wan suddenly suggested, his eyes twinkling with a playful light. He tugged gently at Cody's hand, leading him closer to the musicians.

Cody, caught off guard by the suggestion, hesitated. "Dance? Here?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

"Why not?" Obi-Wan replied, his tone light and encouraging. "There's music, a beautiful night, and us. What more do we need?"

With a reluctant chuckle, Cody allowed himself to be led into the impromptu dance, their movements at first awkward, then gradually finding a rhythm. As they swayed to the music, Cody's nervousness began to ebb, replaced by the warmth of Obi-Wan's smile and the gentle pressure of his hand.

"You're not so bad at this," Obi-Wan teased, his voice a soft murmur close to Cody's ear.

"I have an excellent teacher," Cody replied, a smile breaking through his earlier apprehension.

As the song came to an end, they paused, their foreheads touching lightly, the sounds of the piazza fading into a distant backdrop. For a moment, it was just the two of them, their shared breaths a testament to the closeness they had nurtured.

They resumed their walk, the music now a soft echo behind them. Cody's thoughts returned to the looming proposal, a knot of nerves and excitement tangling in his stomach. He glanced at Obi-Wan, who seemed lost in the beauty of the night, his face aglow in the soft light of the streetlamps.

Cody knew that what he was about to do would change their lives forever. The weight of the ring, safely hidden in his suitcase, felt like a physical presence, a reminder of the commitment he was about to make. Yet, looking at Obi-Wan, feeling the strength of their bond, he knew that this was the path he wanted to take, the future he yearned for.

Their conversation drifted to lighter topics – a discussion about the next day's plans, a shared joke about an amusing incident from their earlier explorations. Yet, beneath the casual banter, there was an undercurrent of anticipation, a sense of something momentous on the horizon.

As they returned to their hotel, the night enveloped them in its embrace, the stars above witnesses to the silent promises and unspoken dreams that danced in their hearts. In the quiet of their room, they lay side by side, the sound of the distant sea a lullaby that lulled them into a peaceful slumber, their fingers entwined, their souls aligned, on the cusp of a new chapter that awaited them with the dawn.

****

The following morning dawned with a gentle caress of light spilling through the curtains of their hotel room, painting soft streaks of gold across the bed where Obi-Wan and Cody lay, still entwined in sleep's tender embrace. The tranquility of the room, with its muted colors and the distant sound of the sea, provided a cocoon of peace, a stark contrast to the often tumultuous world they navigated beyond these walls.

As they awoke, the air between them filled with the quiet yet profound intimacy that had become the cornerstone of their relationship. Cody, his eyes tracing the contours of Obi-Wan's face, felt a surge of emotion at the thought of the proposal he planned for the following day. The mixture of anticipation and apprehension was a delicate dance in his mind, each step a balance between fear and love.

Obi-Wan, sensing Cody's contemplative silence, turned to face him, his own expression a canvas of curiosity and affection. "You're deep in thought this morning," he observed, his voice soft, a gentle probe into Cody's inner world.

Cody offered a small, somewhat strained smile. "Just thinking about us, about everything we've been through," he admitted, his gaze not quite meeting Obi-Wan's.

Obi-Wan reached out, his fingers gently tilting Cody's chin, ensuring their eyes met. "We've certainly had our share of storms," he said, a hint of nostalgia lacing his words. "But look at us now, stronger for it all."

The conversation drifted to the past, to the time Obi-Wan was injured, an event that had shaken the very foundations of their relationship. Cody's eyes darkened at the memory, the guilt and helplessness he had felt still a shadow in his heart.

"I almost ran away then," Cody confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "The thought that I had failed to protect you, that I was the cause of your pain... it was too much to bear."

Obi-Wan's hand found Cody's, a reassuring anchor. "But you didn't run away," he said gently. "You faced it, faced your fears, and we came out stronger. That's what matters."

Cody's eyes held a lingering sorrow, a remnant of the scars left by the incident. "I was so afraid of losing you, not just to the injury but to the realization that I wasn't infallible, that I couldn't always be your shield."

"And I was afraid too," Obi-Wan added, his voice tinged with his own vulnerability. "Afraid of what the injury meant for my career, for our life together. But in that fear, we found strength in each other, a connection that went beyond physical protection or fame."

The room fell into a comfortable silence, their thoughts and emotions weaving a shared tapestry of understanding and resilience. Obi-Wan broke the silence, his tone reflective. "You know, my feelings towards fame have been evolving," he mused. "There was a time when it was all I sought, a validation of my worth. But now, I see it for what it is – fleeting, sometimes hollow."

Cody nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "And yet, you've used it to bring joy, to tell stories that matter," he said, his admiration for Obi-Wan evident in his words.

Obi-Wan's gaze drifted towards the window, towards the sea that lay beyond. "Yes, but it's the genuine connections that truly matter," he said, turning back to Cody, his eyes alight with sincerity. "Connections like ours, built on honesty, on understanding each other's fears and dreams."

Cody felt a warmth spread through him at Obi-Wan's words, a reaffirmation of the depth of their bond. "I never knew I could have something like this," he confessed, his voice laden with emotion. "With you, I've found not just love but a partner, a confidant."

They lay there for a while, basking in the comfort of their shared space, of the journey they had embarked upon together. The conversation had meandered through the landscapes of their past, each memory a stepping stone to their present, a present filled with hope and the promise of a future woven with love and understanding.

As the morning light grew stronger, casting a gentle warmth over the room, they rose, ready to face the day, their hearts aligned, their souls intertwined. The proposal, now just a day away, lingered in the air between them, an unspoken promise of a commitment that would mark a new chapter in the extraordinary tale of Obi-Wan and Cody.

***

The day unfolded like a carefully crafted sonnet, each line a new adventure, each verse a deeper exploration of the Amalfi Coast's enchanting beauty. Cody, having planned this day with meticulous attention to detail, wore a veneer of calm, though beneath it, currents of nervous anticipation swirled.

Their journey began with a visit to a vineyard nestled on a sun-kissed hillside, the vines a vibrant green against the backdrop of a clear blue sky. The air was rich with the scent of ripening grapes and earth, a perfume that spoke of nature's bountiful gifts.

As they strolled through the rows of vines, Obi-Wan's keen eyes noticed the slight tension in Cody's shoulders, the way his gaze often drifted to the horizon, lost in thought. "You seem a bit distant today," Obi-Wan commented, his voice light but laced with concern.

Cody, caught off guard, offered a quick, somewhat strained smile. "Just taking in the beauty of this place," he replied, gesturing to the sprawling vineyard. "It's not every day we get to walk through a scene straight out of a painting."

Obi-Wan, not entirely convinced but choosing not to press further, nodded, allowing the conversation to shift to the process of wine-making as explained by their guide. The guide, a jovial man with hands stained from years of work among the vines, shared stories of the vineyard's history, each tale a testament to the land's rich heritage.

As they tasted various wines, the flavors bold and invigorating on their palates, Obi-Wan observed Cody with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. He noted the careful way Cody listened to the guide, the occasional furtive glances he cast Obi-Wan's way, as if seeking approval or perhaps reassurance.

Their next stop was a quaint local restaurant, where they indulged in the exquisite cuisine of the region. Plates of fresh seafood, pasta drizzled in rich sauces, and vibrant salads graced their table, each dish a burst of flavor, a celebration of local culinary artistry.

Throughout the meal, Cody's attempts at casual conversation were interspersed with moments of introspection, his mind seemingly adrift. Obi-Wan, sensing the undercurrent of Cody's unease, reached across the table, his hand gently covering Cody's. "Whatever it is, you can tell me," he said softly, his eyes searching Cody's.

Cody shook his head, a slight smile touching his lips. "It's nothing, really. Just want everything to be perfect for you," he said, his voice tinged with an emotion he couldn't quite mask.

The day waned, and they found themselves at a secluded beach, the setting sun painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The sound of the waves lapping gently at the shore was a rhythmic lullaby, a serene soundtrack to the end of their day.

As they walked along the water's edge, the sand cool beneath their feet, Obi-Wan's thoughts lingered on Cody's unusual demeanor. "You've been quiet," he observed, his gaze fixed on the horizon, where the sky met the sea in a delicate embrace.

Cody, his eyes reflecting the colors of the sunset, sighed. "I guess I'm just lost in the moment, in the beauty of all this," he said, his voice a mix of truth and evasion.

Obi-Wan, feeling the honesty but also the evasion in Cody's words, decided to let it be, respecting the boundary of his unspoken thoughts. They continued their walk, the silence comfortable yet filled with unvoiced questions and emotions.

As the sky darkened, giving way to the first stars of the evening, Cody's nervous energy seemed to dissipate, replaced by a quiet resolve. Obi-Wan, sensing the shift, squeezed Cody's hand, a silent message of support and love.

They stood at the water's edge, watching the stars emerge, the vastness of the universe a reminder of the infinite possibilities that life offered. In that moment, on that secluded beach, with the night embracing them in its gentle arms, Obi-Wan and Cody stood together, two souls connected by a love as deep as the sea and as endless as the sky.

The gentle lapping of the waves against the shore played a soothing melody as Obi-Wan and Cody lingered on the beach, the twilight sky a canvas of deepening blues and purples. Stars began to twinkle into existence above them, each one a distant, shimmering point of light in the vastness of the night.

Obi-Wan, standing beside Cody, felt a sense of wonder enveloping the moment. There was something about the day, with its carefully chosen activities and Cody's underlying current of nervous anticipation, that hinted at more than just a desire to enjoy the beauty of the Amalfi Coast. He watched Cody, who stood staring out at the sea, his profile etched against the fading light, a silhouette of contemplation.

"You've outdone yourself today, you know," Obi-Wan said, breaking the comfortable silence. His voice was soft, a gentle nudge into Cody's thoughts.

Cody turned towards him, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before settling into a smile. "I just wanted to make it memorable," he replied, his tone carrying a hint of something unspoken, a depth yet to be revealed.

Obi-Wan observed him closely, noting the way Cody's eyes seemed to hold a multitude of secrets, like the sea reflecting the myriad stars above. "It's more than that, isn't it?" Obi-Wan ventured, his intuition sensing the undercurrents of the day.

Cody's gaze shifted back to the sea, a momentary escape from Obi-Wan's perceptive eyes. "Sometimes, I think you know me better than I know myself," he said, his voice a whisper lost in the sound of the waves.

They walked back towards their shoes, left at the edge of the beach, their footprints a transient mark on the smooth sand. The night air was cool, a gentle breeze playing with Obi-Wan's hair, bringing with it the salty scent of the sea.

As they put on their shoes, Obi-Wan kept stealing glances at Cody, trying to decipher the thoughts behind those introspective eyes. "Cody, whatever it is, you can share it with me. You know that, right?" Obi-Wan asked, his concern laced with affection.

Cody looked up, meeting Obi-Wan's gaze, a myriad of emotions playing across his face. "I know, and I will, just..." he trailed off, his sentence hanging unfinished in the air.

They began their walk back to the hotel, the path illuminated by sporadic streetlights that cast a warm glow on their surroundings. The night was peaceful, the occasional sound of distant laughter or the soft strumming of a guitar from a nearby house adding to the serene atmosphere.

As they walked, Obi-Wan found himself reflecting on their relationship, on the journey they had embarked upon together. He thought about the strength they had found in each other, the way Cody had stood by him through the highs and lows, the way they had navigated the complexities of their lives with an unwavering commitment to each other.

Cody, meanwhile, was lost in his thoughts, the weight of the impending proposal both a source of joy and anxiety. He wanted everything to be perfect, to express the depth of his love for Obi-Wan in a moment that would be etched in their memories forever.

Upon reaching the hotel, they retired to their room, the soft sound of the sea a constant presence in the background. As they prepared for bed, the unspoken anticipation of the following day hung in the air, a promise of a moment that would mark a new chapter in the beautiful narrative of their lives.

In the quiet of the room, with only the moonlight streaming through the window as their witness, Obi-Wan and Cody lay side by side, their thoughts intertwined with their unspoken emotions. The night whispered its secrets, and in its embrace, they found a sense of peace, a serene prelude to the dawn of a significant day that awaited them.

As the sun began its graceful descent towards the horizon, painting the sky in a palette of fiery oranges and soft pinks, Cody led Obi-Wan along the winding paths of Ravello towards their final destination for the day. The air was filled with the gentle scent of blooming flowers and the faint saltiness of the sea, creating an atmosphere that was both tranquil and charged with anticipation.

The Terrazza dell'Infinito, renowned for its breathtaking views, awaited them, its beauty a perfect reflection of the moment's significance. The terrace, perched on the edge of a cliff, offered an unobstructed view of the vast sea below, the water a shimmering canvas under the setting sun's tender strokes.

Obi-Wan, taken aback by the sheer magnificence of the view, stood in awe, his eyes wide with wonder. "Cody, this is incredible," he breathed out, his voice tinged with an emotion he couldn't quite name.

Cody, standing beside Obi-Wan, his heart pounding in his chest, took a deep breath. This was the moment he had been preparing for, the moment that would forever change the course of their lives. He turned to face Obi-Wan, taking both of Obi-Wan's hands in his.

"Obi-Wan," Cody began, his voice steady but filled with a depth of emotion that resonated in the quiet air around them. "From the moment we met, you've been a constant light in my life, guiding me through my darkest days, and celebrating with me in my brightest."

Obi-Wan, sensing the gravity of Cody's words, listened intently, his heart beginning to understand the magnitude of what was unfolding.

Cody continued, his eyes locked with Obi-Wan's, "We've weathered storms together, faced challenges that seemed insurmountable. When you were injured, I thought I had lost everything. The fear of losing you, the guilt of not being able to protect you... it nearly broke me."

Obi-Wan's eyes glistened with unshed tears, the memories of those days a vivid tapestry in his mind.

"But you," Cody's voice cracked slightly, emotion seeping through, "you showed me that true strength lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall. You taught me that love isn't just about the joyous moments, but also about standing together in the face of adversity, about holding each other up when the world tries to tear us down."

The sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow over them, the light a silent witness to Cody's heartfelt declaration.

"And now, here, in this place of infinite beauty, I want to ask you the most important question of my life." Cody reached into his pocket, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled out a small, velvet box.

Obi-Wan's breath caught in his throat, his pulse quickening with the realization of what was about to happen.

Cody opened the box to reveal a simple, yet elegant ring, the stone catching the last rays of the sun, sparkling with a promise of forever. "Obi-Wan Kenobi, will you marry me? Will you continue this incredible journey with me, as my partner, my confidant, my love, for the rest of our lives?"

The words hung in the air, a tender offering of a shared future, a vow of eternal commitment.

Obi-Wan, overcome with emotion, tears streaming down his face, nodded, unable to find the words to express the depth of his feelings. "Yes, Cody, yes," he finally managed to say, his voice a whisper that carried the weight of his love and joy.

Cody, his own eyes brimming with tears, slipped the ring onto Obi-Wan's finger, a perfect fit, a symbol of their unbreakable bond.

They embraced, holding each other close, their hearts beating in unison, as the sun set below the horizon, leaving behind a sky painted in shades of purple and blue, the stars beginning to twinkle in the celestial canopy above.

In that moment, on the Terrazza dell'Infinito, with the world sprawling out beneath them, Obi-Wan and Cody stood together, their future laid out before them, a future filled with love, hope, and infinite possibilities. The proposal, a poignant culmination of their shared past and a hopeful glance towards their future, was a moment etched in time, a memory that would forever be a cornerstone of their life together.

****

In the wake of Cody's heartfelt proposal, the world around Obi-Wan and Cody seemed to stand still, the only reality being the space they occupied together on the Terrazza dell'Infinito. The sky, now a tapestry of deep blues and purples, stretched infinitely above them, a celestial witness to their newly promised commitment.

As they stepped away from the terrace's edge, their hands remained clasped, a physical manifestation of the invisible bond that had been strengthened in those profound moments. They walked in silence, the weight of their emotions rendering words unnecessary. The night air was cool against their skin, a gentle reminder of the world's continued existence around their intimate bubble.

Finding a secluded spot, they sat side by side, their gaze fixed on the vast expanse of the star-studded sky above. The gentle sound of the sea, a constant companion throughout their journey in Amalfi, provided a soothing background melody to their thoughts.

Cody, his earlier nervousness replaced by a sense of serene contentment, turned to Obi-Wan, his eyes reflecting the starlight. "I can't believe you said yes," he whispered, his voice a mix of awe and happiness.

Obi-Wan, still processing the multitude of emotions that the proposal had stirred, smiled softly. "How could I not? You've just given me one of the most beautiful moments of my life," he replied, his tone imbued with sincerity.

The quiet of the night enveloped them, the occasional sound of a distant wave crashing against the shore punctuating their shared silence. Obi-Wan leaned his head on Cody's shoulder, a gesture of trust and affection. "I was thinking about the first time we came to Italy," he mused, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "Everything was so new, so uncertain. And now, here we are, engaged under the same Italian sky."

Cody's arm wrapped around Obi-Wan, pulling him closer. "It feels like a full circle, doesn't it?" he said, a note of wonder in his voice. "From uncertainty to a promise of a lifetime."

The ring on Obi-Wan's finger caught the faint light of the stars, a small but significant symbol of their commitment. Obi-Wan turned his hand, watching the light dance across the surface of the stone. "This ring... it's not just a piece of jewelry. It's a promise, a reminder of everything we've been through and everything we have yet to experience together."

Cody nodded, his gaze still fixed on the sky. "I wanted it to be perfect, the proposal. I kept going over it in my mind, worrying about every little detail."

"And it was perfect," Obi-Wan assured him, lifting his head to look into Cody's eyes. "Not because of the setting or the words, but because it was us, because it was real."

They sat there, under the vast canopy of the night, sharing thoughts and dreams, basking in the glow of their newly affirmed love. The stars seemed to shine a little brighter, the sea to sing a little sweeter, as if nature itself was celebrating their union.

As the night deepened, they rose, hand in hand, walking back to their hotel. The path was familiar, yet it felt different, imbued with the significance of the evening's events. Their steps were light, their hearts full, their future a path strewn with the potential of shared adventures and shared life.

Back in their room, they stood at the window, looking out at the night sky. The stars seemed to wink at them, a cosmic approval of their love. In this quiet moment, with the world asleep around them, they embraced, their engagement not just a formal promise, but a deepening of the bond that had already been forged through time, through trials, and through an unwavering commitment to each other.

In the stillness of the night, with the stars as their only witness, they celebrated their engagement, a celebration not of grandeur, but of intimacy, a quiet acknowledgement of the journey they had embarked on together, and the journey that lay ahead. The chapter of their lives closed with a sense of fulfillment, of peace, and of an unspoken excitement for what the future would bring. In each other, they had found their partner, their confidant, their love – under the stars, under the Italian sky, in a world of their own.

As they stood at the window, gazing out into the starlit night, a sense of profound peace enveloped Obi-Wan and Cody. The world outside was a distant echo, their room a sanctuary where dreams and future plans began to unfurl like delicate blossoms.

Obi-Wan, his hand still clasped in Cody's, broke the silence with a contemplative voice. "Do you ever think about how our wedding will be?" he asked, his tone laced with a mixture of curiosity and excitement.

Cody, turning to face him, smiled thoughtfully. "I have, more times than I can count. But now that it's real, it feels different, more... substantial." He paused, searching Obi-Wan's eyes. "I always imagined something small but meaningful, with our closest friends and family, somewhere that holds significance for us."

Obi-Wan's eyes lit up with shared enthusiasm. "I love that idea. Maybe somewhere outdoors, under the stars, like tonight. A celebration that's intimate and true to who we are."

The room seemed to grow warmer with their burgeoning plans, the air itself buzzing with the potential of their shared future. Obi-Wan walked over to the bedside table, retrieving a small notebook and a pen. "Let's jot down our ideas. Everything from the venue to the vows. This is the beginning of our journey, not just as partners, but as a married couple."

As they sat on the bed, the notebook between them, ideas flowed freely, each suggestion a building block in the foundation of their wedding day. Cody mentioned a vineyard they had visited once, its beauty and serenity a perfect backdrop for their vows. Obi-Wan suggested a string quartet, their music a subtle accompaniment to the natural setting.

Their conversation was a tapestry of dreams and aspirations, woven with threads of love and mutual understanding. They spoke of guests, of flowers, of the menu, each detail a reflection of their personalities and their journey together.

As the list grew, so did their excitement, their voices intertwining in a melody of anticipation and joy. Obi-Wan, his eyes sparkling with happiness, leaned in closer to Cody. "And what about our life after the wedding? Have you thought about that?"

Cody, his heart swelling with emotion, nodded. "Every day," he replied. "I dream of a home filled with laughter, with love, a place where we can be ourselves, unguarded and free. I see us traveling, exploring the world together, making memories in every corner of the globe."

Obi-Wan's smile was a mirror to Cody's dreams. "And I see us continuing to grow, individually and together. Supporting each other's aspirations, celebrating each success, no matter how small."

Their dreams for the future were as vast as the night sky outside their window, each star a distant beacon of hope and possibility. They talked of adopting a dog, of maybe one day writing a book together, of learning new things from each other.

The notebook, now filled with their ideas and dreams, lay closed on the bed, a testament to the beginning of a new chapter in their lives. They lay down, turning off the bedside lamp, the room enveloped in the soft glow of the moonlight.

In the quiet of the night, with only the sound of their steady breathing, Obi-Wan and Cody lay side by side, their hearts full of love and hope. The future, once a distant concept, was now a tangible path stretching out before them, paved with the promises they had made and the dreams they shared.

The chapter of their lives closed on a note of hopeful anticipation, their engagement not just a commitment to marry but a vow to continue building a life rich with love, adventure, and shared dreams. Under the blanket of the night, they drifted off to sleep, their thoughts intertwined with the possibilities of tomorrow and the many tomorrows to come. In each other, they had found more than a partner; they had found a companion for life's journey, a journey that was just beginning.

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this journey through love and the stunning landscapes of Italy, feel free to reblog and share your thoughts. Your support means the world!

6 notes · View notes