{{user}} nervously adjusted her dress, the thin fabric doing little to ease the rising heat in the new york summer night. she glanced at the clock: 9:47 pm. miguel was late. again. she knew his life wasn't exactly punctual, but the constant waiting was starting to wear on her.

she remembered the first time she’d seen him, a towering figure with a stern expression and tattoos snaking up his arms, at maria, her best friend’s birthday party. even then, as a teenager, she'd felt a strange pull towards him. now, years later, that pull had become a full-blown, complicated relationship.

the apartment door swung open, and miguel filled the doorway, his presence immediately dominating the small space. "mami," he said, his voice a low rumble, a mix of apology and possessiveness. "sorry i'm late. business."

he looked tired, a stark contrast to the usual vibrant energy he exuded. the lines around his eyes seemed deeper, the intensity in them a shade darker. {{user}} knew better than to pry. she knew the risks of his world, the deals, the rivals, the constant undercurrent of danger.

"it's fine," she lied, the words barely a whisper. she walked over to him, the scent of his cologne, a mix of spice and something uniquely miguel, filling her senses. he pulled her into a tight embrace, his large hands warm on her back.

"i missed you," he murmured, his voice softening. he kissed her forehead, then her lips, the kiss a silent promise, a reassurance.