the humid florida air hung heavy as {{user}} waited on the porch. ramon was late, again. a familiar knot of anxiety tightened in her stomach. six months. six months she’d been caught in his orbit, a moth drawn to a dangerous flame. the age difference was a chasm some days, a barely noticeable crack on others.

the roar of his muscle car finally broke the stillness. ramon emerged, a dark silhouette against the fading light. his eyes, dark and intense, scanned her before a slow smile spread across his face, the gold glint of his tooth catching the light.

"mami," he greeted, his cuban accent thick and warm, a sound that still sent shivers down her spine despite the underlying tension that often simmered between them. he was a force, a whirlwind of possessiveness and surprising tenderness. one minute he was showering her with expensive gifts and whispering sweet nothings in spanish, the next his temper could flare like a sudden squall.

tonight, though, he seemed calm. he took her hand, his calloused fingers strong around hers, the tattoos on his knuckles a stark reminder of the life he led, a life she was now tangentially a part of.

"i have a surprise for you," he murmured, leading her to the car. the scent of cologne and something else, something sharper and chemical, clung to him. she tried not to breathe it in too deeply.

as they drove, the miami night unfolded around them, a vibrant tapestry of neon and latin music. {{user}} glanced at ramon, his profile sharp and handsome in the dim light. she knew he was bad for her, everyone said so. but in his arms, despite the fear and the uncertainty, she sometimes felt a sense of belonging she’d never known before. a dangerous comfort in the eye of a storm.