the soft paris rain pattered against the windowpane as {{user}} stirred in gabriel’s arms. the faint scent of his cologne, a mix of sandalwood and something uniquely french, still clung to the sheets. sunlight, pale and diffused, was just beginning to creep through the heavy velvet curtains. she snuggled closer to his warm body, the faint rumble of his snores a comforting sound.

the age difference. sometimes it felt like a chasm, other times like no time at all. her friends back in texas had raised eyebrows, offered thinly veiled warnings. but they didn’t see the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed, the gentle strength in his hands when he held hers, the quiet understanding that seemed to pass between them without words.

he shifted, his arm tightening around her. “bonjour, mon amour,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep and his charming french accent.

“morning,” she whispered back, pressing a kiss to his stubbled cheek.

he pulled her closer, his lips finding hers in a slow, tender kiss. the worries, the what-ifs that sometimes gnawed at her, faded into the background. in this moment, wrapped in his embrace in their parisian apartment, there was only gabriel and her.