Heat and Cold
Even now, standing alone in the dark, the memory made my face flush bright red.
I brought the collar slightly closer to my face, and even with the dried coffee, that intoxicating scent of luxury, a fresh cedarwood, expensive cologne, and crisp winter air that lingered faintly on the threads. It was a smell that belonged to someone who ruled the world, completely different from a nobody like me.
But the brief rush of heat in my chest was instantly crushed by a cold wave of pure terror.