Zayne had a plan.
A good plan.
A distraction plan.
*Take her to the market. Show her new things. New food. New experiences. Anything to make her forget about last night. About the pain. About trying again.*
*Please let her forget about trying again.*
They walked through the vibrant local market—colorful stalls selling fruits, vegetables, handmade crafts, street food.
Nana's eyes were wide with excitement, darting from stall to stall.
"ZAYNE! Look at this fruit! It's SPIKY! Why is it spiky?! Is it a weapon?!"
*She thinks fruit is a weapon. This is normal for her.*
"It's a dragon fruit. Not a weapon."
"Can I eat it?"
"Yes, that's the purpose of—"
"I'M EATING IT!" She'd already bought one and was attempting to bite through the skin.
"Hamster, you have to peel—"
Too late. She'd bitten the spiky exterior.
"OW! It bit me back! The dragon fights!"
*The dragon fruit fights back. My wife is at war with fruit.*
He gently took it from her, peeled it properly, and handed back the white flesh with black seeds.
She bit into it, eyes lighting up.
"IT'S SWEET! The dragon is delicious after you defeat its armor!"
*She's narrating fruit consumption like a battle. This is my life.*
But she was smiling.
Happy.
Not thinking about last night.
*Good. This is good. Keep her distracted. Keep her happy.*
They continued through the market—Nana trying samples of everything, buying snacks, talking to vendors in broken hand gestures and enthusiasm.
She hadn't mentioned last night.
Hadn't mentioned trying again.
*Thank god. Maybe she forgot. Maybe she's not ready to try again. Maybe—*
"Zayne?" She looked up at him while munching on some kind of fried pastry.
*Oh no. Here it comes.*
"Yes, hamster?"
"Last night was... it hurt. A lot." She said it quietly, almost embarrassed.
*I know. I felt you tense. I heard you cry out. That's why I stopped.*
"I know," he said gently. "That's why we stopped."
"Yeah." She was quiet for a moment. "I think... I think I'm a little scared now? Like, I want to try again someday. But maybe not... not right now?"
*Someday. Not now. PERFECT. IDEAL. THANK YOU UNIVERSE.*
"That's completely normal," he assured her. "And completely fine. We'll try again when you're ready. No pressure."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Can we just... do other things? Kissing? Hugging? Just being close?"
*Yes. A thousand times yes. Anything that doesn't involve me trying not to hurt you while dying of want.*
"Of course," he said, squeezing her hand. "Whatever you're comfortable with."
She beamed, relieved, and went back to her pastry.
*Crisis averted. She's not pushing. We have time. I can survive this. I can—*
*—thank god she doesn't want to try tonight. I don't think I could stop twice. Once was hard enough. Twice would kill me.*
Nana had discovered a row of food stalls near their villa and was systematically trying everything.
Grilled seafood. Tropical smoothies. Some kind of meat on a stick. Rice wrapped in leaves. Desserts Zayne couldn't even identify.
"This is SO GOOD!" she declared, mouth full, holding up skewered shrimp. "Try this! And this! And—"
She was feeding him samples, bouncing between stalls, talking to vendors, completely in her element.
*She's adorable. Completely adorable. How did I get this lucky.*
"Zayne!" She grabbed his arm suddenly. "We should take pictures! Normal couples take pictures! We haven't taken ANY pictures together!"
*Pictures. She's right. We haven't. Not since the wedding. Not even one.*
"You want pictures?"
"YES! For memories! And to show Mina and Jisu! And—" she pulled out her phone, "—let's take one now!"
She positioned them in front of the ocean view, held up the phone at arm's length.
Made a peace sign with her fingers.
Smiled—big, bright, sunshine smile.
*Happy hamster. She looks like a happy hamster.*
Zayne stood beside her, considerably taller, expression neutral.
*Am I supposed to smile? Make a face? What do people do in photos?*
He tried to smile. It came out stiff. Robotic.
*I look like a robot. A handsome robot according to her, but still a robot.*
But his eyes—his eyes softened looking at her.
At her genuine happiness. Her pure joy. Her—
*I love her. So much. It's visible in my eyes even if my face is stiff.*
"Perfect!" Nana checked the photo. "You look so handsome! Very doctor-like! Professional! But also—" she frowned, "—wait. Where's my face?"
She showed him the photo.
Her face was cut off.
The top of her head was visible. Maybe her forehead. But mostly just her hand making the peace sign.
*Oh. The height difference. She's 153cm. She's too short to get both of us in frame.*
"I'm too short!" she wailed dramatically. "The photo betrays me!"
*She's cute even when complaining about height.*
"We can take another—" he started.
But Nana had already spotted a solution.
A large decorative rock near the beach.
"I'LL CLIMB!" she announced.
*Of course. Of course her solution is climbing.*
She scrambled up the rock—all 153cm of determination.
Got to the top.
Held up her phone again.
Still too short.
The angle was wrong. Her arm wasn't long enough. The rock wasn't tall enough.
"THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE!" she declared. "I'M TOO SMALL! THE WORLD IS AGAINST SHORT PEOPLE!"
*The world is not against you. You're just vertically challenged.*
Zayne huffed a quiet laugh.
*This is ridiculous. She's ridiculous. I love her.*
"Come here," he said, holding out his arms.
"What?"
"Climb me."
"WHAT?!"
"Like a tree. Or a koala. You've climbed everything else today. Climb me."
Her face lit up.
She jumped off the rock and launched herself at him.
Zayne caught her easily—she weighed almost nothing.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, legs around his waist, clinging like a very happy koala.
*Koala wife. I have a koala wife.*
"Perfect height!" she announced, holding up the phone.
Now she was level with him. Same height. Both faces in frame.
She made her peace sign.
Smiled that bright smile.
"Say cheese, husband!"
*Cheese. I'm not saying cheese.*
But he smiled anyway.
A real smile this time.
Not robotic.
Genuine.
Because she was clinging to him like a koala, taking pictures, completely happy.
*This is my life. And it's perfect.*
Click. Click. Click.
She took multiple photos, different angles, different expressions.
"PERFECT!" she squealed, checking them. "Look! We look so happy! So cute! Like a real couple!"
*We are a real couple. This is real.*
"We're very cute," he agreed, still holding her. "Can you get down now? People are staring."
"NO! I like it up here! You're tall! I can see everything!"
*She's using me as a viewing platform. This is my purpose now.*
"Nana—"
"Five more minutes!"
She was not getting down.
So Zayne just... stood there. Holding his koala wife. While tourists walked by and smiled.
*This is normal now. This is my normal.*
And honestly?
He didn't mind.
.
.
.
.
.
🌻🌻🌻
They'd had a good day.
Beach. Market. Food. Photos.
Normal couple things.
No mention of last night.
No pressure.
Just... them.
Perfect.
Now they were back at the villa, and Nana had announced: "I want to shower!"
Normal.
Safe.
"Okay," Zayne had said. "I'll shower after—"
"Together!"
*What.*
"What?"
"Shower together! I want to be close to my husband! We're married! Married people shower together! It's normal!"
*Normal. She thinks this is normal. Joint showers. With my wife. Who is curious. Who touches everything. Who—*
Oh no.
"Hamster, I don't think—"
"Please? I want to see everything! Educational! Remember? You're teaching me!"
*EDUCATIONAL. SHE WANTS EDUCATIONAL SHOWER TIME.*
*I'M GOING TO DIE.*
"We can shower separately and—"
"But I want to see your THING!" she said it so innocently, so casually, like asking to see his medical degree.
*MY THING. SHE CALLED IT MY THING. SHE WANTS TO SEE MY—*
*DEEP BREATHS. CLINICAL THOUGHTS. ANATOMICAL TERMINOLOGY. PENIS. MALE REPRODUCTIVE ORGAN. SCIENTIFIC. MEDICAL. NOT "THING."*
"Educational purposes?" he managed weakly.
"Yes! Very educational! I'm very curious!"
*Of course you are. You're curious about EVERYTHING.*
"Fine," he sighed, already regretting this decision. "Educational shower. But no touching."
"What? Why no touching?"
*BECAUSE I'M BARELY HOLDING ON. BECAUSE NAKED TOUCHING WOULD DESTROY ME. BECAUSE—*
"Because it's... distracting."
"But I learn by touching! That's how I learn best!"
*I know. That's the problem. You touch. I die. Simple equation.*
"We'll see," he said, which meant absolutely not but he was too weak to say it directly.
This was a mistake.
A catastrophic mistake.
Zayne stood under the warm spray, trying desperately to think about anything other than the fact that his completely naked wife was standing right next to him.
Also completely naked.
Staring.
Not even trying to hide it.
Just... staring.
At him.
At all of him.
Specifically at—
*Don't look down. Don't acknowledge. Pretend this is normal. This is fine. Just a shower. Educational shower. Clinical. Scientific.*
"Wow," Nana breathed.
Oh no.
"It's... bigger than I thought."
*STOP TALKING. PLEASE STOP TALKING.*
"And it's just... there. Like that. Just hanging. Casually hanging."
*YES. THAT'S WHERE IT IS. THAT'S HOW ANATOMY WORKS. CAN WE STOP DISCUSSING THIS.*
She leaned closer.
*NO. DON'T LEAN. STAY BACK. MAINTAIN DISTANCE.*
"It's kind of... cute? No, that's not the right word. Impressive? Intimidating? Both?"
*Cute AND intimidating. My penis has been given mixed reviews.*
She was quiet for a long moment, just staring.
*How long is she going to stare. How long is appropriate staring time. There has to be a limit. There must be—*
Then she reached out.
NO.
NO NO NO NO NO.
ABORT. ABORT MISSION.
But before he could stop her, she poked it.
With her finger.
Just... poked.
*She poked it. My wife poked my penis. This is happening. This is real.*
"Oh!" She giggled. "It moved! It responded!"
*OF COURSE IT RESPONDED. YOU POKED IT. THAT'S HOW—*
*Don't think about responses. Don't think about how it's definitely responding now. Definitely getting—*
She poked it again.
"It's getting bigger! Like a sunflower! When you water a sunflower it grows! You're growing!"
SUNFLOWER.
SHE COMPARED MY PENIS TO A SUNFLOWER.
A SUNFLOWER.
Zayne wanted to die.
Actually die.
Right there in the shower.
Death by sunflower comparison.
"Hamster," he managed, voice strangled, "please stop poking."
"But it's growing! Look! It's like magic! Poke poke!" She poked twice more, delighted. "SUNFLOWER!"
*She's naming it. She's named my penis Sunflower. This is my reality now.*
"Nana—" he caught her wrist gently, "—no more poking the sunflower."
"Why not? It seems to like it! It keeps growing!"
*Yes. Because you're touching it. Because you're naked. Because my body has zero control when you're involved.*
"Because—" *how do I explain this clinically* "—continued stimulation will cause... further physiological responses that are... difficult to manage in this context."
"What responses?"
*AROUSAL. FULL AROUSAL. ERECTION. DESIRE. WANTING TO PIN YOU AGAINST THIS SHOWER WALL AND—*
STOP. CLINICAL. STAY CLINICAL.
"Responses that would make this educational shower... less educational and more... practical."
"Oh!" Understanding dawned. "You mean the honeymoon activities?"
*Yes. Exactly those. The ones that hurt you. The ones we're not doing. The ones I'm desperately trying not to think about while you poke my anatomy.*
"Yes," he confirmed.
"But I thought we weren't doing those yet?"
"We're not. That's why you need to stop poking."
"Ohhhhh." She finally pulled her hand back. "Okay. No more poking. But can I still look?"
*Looking is almost as bad as touching but sure. Fine. Whatever. My dignity is already dead.*
"You can look," he sighed.
So she looked.
For a long time.
Just... staring.
Studying.
Like she was memorizing it.
*What is she thinking. Why is she staring so long. Is she scared? Impressed? Confused? All of the above?*
"It's really big," she finally said. "Like... that's supposed to fit? Inside? That seems... impossible?"
*Finally. Finally she understands why I stopped. Why two fingers hurt. Why—*
"With proper preparation, patience, and time, yes," he explained clinically, trying to maintain some shred of medical professionalism despite being completely naked and having his wife analyze his anatomy. "The female body is designed to accommodate. But it requires gradual adjustment. That's why we're waiting."
"Because it would hurt."
"Because it would hurt," he confirmed. "And I don't want to hurt you."
She looked up at him—really looked at him. Not at his body. At his face.
"You stopped last night because of this. Because you knew."
"Yes."
"Thank you," she said softly. "For stopping. For caring."
*Always. I'll always care. I'll always choose you.*
"Always," he said simply.
She smiled—soft and genuine.
Then, because she was Nana and couldn't help herself:
"Can I name it Sunny? Short for Sunflower?"
*NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. MY PENIS IS NOT NAMED SUNNY.*
"No."
"Please? It's so cute!"
*CUTE. MY PENIS IS NOT CUTE. IT'S—IT'S—*
"It's not cute. It's anatomical. It doesn't need a name."
"But—"
"NO NAMES."
She pouted but finally dropped it.
*Thank god. No names. No Sunny. No Sunflower. We maintain SOME dignity.*
They finished showering—separately this time, thank god—and Zayne tried very hard not to think about:
1. The poking
2. The sunflower comparison
3. The fact that she stared for three full minutes
4. The name "Sunny"
5. Any of it
He failed.
He thought about all of it.
Constantly.
For the rest of the night.
*My wife poked my penis and called it a sunflower.*
*This is my life.*
*This is real.*
*I can never unknow this.*
ZAYNE'S INTERNAL MONOLOGUE - 10:34 PM
Medical log - Day Sixteen - Honeymoon Day Two:
Today's events:
- Market distraction (successful)
- Wife forgot about last night (temporarily)
- Wife is scared to try again (good)
- Wife wants "someday" not "now" (PERFECT)
- Took pictures together (finally)
- Wife climbed me like koala (adorable)
-Shower together (MISTAKE)
- Wife saw everything (OH GOD)
- Wife poked it (DIED)
- Wife called it SUNFLOWER (DIGNITY DECEASED)
- Wife wanted to name it SUNNY (ABSOLUTELY NOT)
Current status: Traumatized. Embarrassed. Never showering with her again.
She poked it.
Just... poked.
Like poking a plant to see if it's alive.
And it responded.
Because of COURSE it responded.
And she noticed.
And compared it to a SUNFLOWER.
"When you water a sunflower it grows!"
I can never unhear that.
Never.
My penis has been compared to garden vegetation.
This is my legacy now.
But also...
Also she understood.
Understood why I stopped.
Saw the size and said "that seems impossible."
She GETS IT now.
Why it would hurt.
Why we need time.
Why I chose to stop.
That's... that's good.
Even if my dignity died in the process.
Even if I'm now associated with sunflowers.
She thanked me.
For stopping.
For caring.
That made it worth it.
All of it.
Even the poking.
Even the naming attempt.
She's not pushing anymore.
She's scared but understanding.
She wants "someday."
Not now.
Someday.
I can work with someday.
Prescription for tomorrow:
- More distracting activities
- NO joint showers
- Maintain dignity (what's left of it)
- Never think about sunflowers again (impossible)
- Love her anyway (always)
She's perfect.
Even when she pokes things.
Even when she names things.
Even when she destroys my dignity.
Especially then.
I love her.
My curious, poking, sunflower-naming wife.
God help me.
And god help Sunny.
NO. NOT SUNNY. IT DOESN'T HAVE A NAME.
IT'S JUST ANATOMY.
CLINICAL ANATOMY.
NOT A SUNFLOWER.
NOT SUNNY.
JUST... MINE.
UNNAMED MINE.
This is fine.
Everything is fine.
I'm fine.
(I'm not fine.)
(She called it Sunflower.)
(I'm never recovering from this.)
.
.
.
.
.
🌻🌻🌻
To be continued.