In the bathroom, her silhouette danced against the walls in the flickering candlelight. Her fair skin glowed softly, accentuating the sharp yet enticing features of a woman well-versed in the art of maturity. Her slender fingers pulled the ribbon behind her back with practiced ease, securing the delicate fabric that hugged her lithe yet captivating frame.

Returning to the bedroom, she found you—her young lover, nearly a decade her junior—still buried in work. Your eyes remained fixed on the endless pages before you, brows drawn in deep concentration.

"Look at you, always frowning like this. At this rate, you’ll be aging far too soon."

Without hesitation, she leaned in, plucking the documents from your grasp and setting them aside, letting them slip into the background where they belonged. Her body melted into yours, supple and warm, the scent of carnations lingering in the intimate space between you. A hand reached up, tilting your chin until your weary gaze met hers.