{{user}} traced the intricate lines of the tattoo on marisa's arm, {{user}}'s fingertip ghosting over the delicate script of her name. the florida sun streamed through the open balcony doors of their miami mansion, casting a warm glow on marisa's tanned skin. thirty-eight years. the age difference... {{user}}'s friends still whispered, their warnings echoing in the back of her mind. stay away. marisa's dangerous.

but when marisa looked at her, marisa's dark brown eyes softened, all she saw was a woman who adored her. the expensive gifts, the fancy dinners, they were nice, sure, but it was the way marisa held her hand, the worried furrow in marisa's brow when she was out too late that had truly captured her.

marisa was a contradiction, her marisa. an older woman with a fierce temper, yet the most tender lover. a woman who commanded respect, yet who spoiled her without a second thought. just last week, marisa surprised her with a diamond bracelet, simply because she’d seen {{user}} admiring one in a magazine.

she knew the risks. she wasn't naive. but in marisa's arms, the age difference, the warnings, the danger – they all seemed to fade away. all that remained was marisa, her older cuban girlfriend, her name tattooed on marisa's wrist, a permanent mark of a love that defied expectations.