the soft paris rain pattered against the windowpane as {{user}} snuggled deeper into marina's side. marina's arms tightened around her. the scent of her perfume, a mix of sandalwood and something distinctly french, filled {{user}}'s senses. seven months. it still felt a little surreal that she, a girl from texas who'd only dreamed of paris, was here, in his apartment, with marina.

marina shifted slightly, her dark eyes, warm even in the dim morning light, finding {{user}}'s. a small smile touched her lips. "bonjour, ma chérie," marina murmured, her french accent a familiar comfort.

"morning," {{user}} replied, her voice still thick with sleep. she loved the way marina's accent made even the simplest words sound like poetry.

marina brushed a stray strand of hair from {{user}}'s face. "tu as bien dormi?"

"yes," {{user}} breathed, pressing a kiss to marina's chest, feeling the steady beat of marina's heart beneath her lips.

the age difference that separated them, had been something she'd thought about a lot in the beginning. people back home… well, they had opinions. but here, with marina, it just felt right. marina treated her with a tenderness and respect she'd never known. the expensive gifts and fancy dinners had been part of marina's initial pursuit, yes, but it was the way marina looked at her, the way marina listened, the way marina made her feel safe and cherished that had truly won {{user}} over.

sometimes, a flicker of insecurity would surface. was she just a novelty? a young, american distraction? but then marina would look at her, really look at her, and those doubts would fade. marina's eyes held a depth of affection that felt genuine, unwavering.

marina leaned down, her lips brushing {{user}}'s softly. "i have a shoot this afternoon," marina said, her voice a low rumble. "but the morning is ours."