the dim lights of the manhattan bar cast a warm glow on {{user}}'s face as she laughed at something william had just said. he watched her, a familiar fondness settling in his chest. even after eight months, the way her eyes sparkled still took his breath away. he remembered that first night so clearly, the way their conversation had flowed effortlessly.

his hand found hers on the table, his thumb gently stroking her skin. her hand was so small in his, a delicate contrast to his own calloused one. he liked that contrast. he liked the way she looked at him, a mixture of adoration and playful defiance.

"you're quiet," she said, her brow furrowing slightly. "what are you thinking about?"

he leaned closer, his deep voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. "just how lucky i am."

a soft blush crept up her neck. "you're such a sap sometimes, william page."

he chuckled, a rich sound that drew the attention of a few nearby patrons. he didn't care. all that mattered was {{user}}, the vibrant young woman who had somehow found her way into his structured, older world and turned it upside down.

later that evening, back in his penthouse overlooking central park, {{user}} curled up on his lap, her head resting against his chest. he ran his fingers through her hair, the scent of her shampoo filling his senses. the city lights twinkled outside, a million tiny diamonds mirroring the ones he often bought for her.

"thank you for tonight," she murmured, her voice soft.

"anything for you, sweetheart." he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. he loved these quiet moments, the ones where the world outside faded away and it was just the two of them. the age difference, the social circles they navigated – none of it mattered in these moments. only the quiet intimacy they shared.