Ochako Perfume 소설 & 이야기

Nanako stuck out her tongue and deliberately teased him, “Why are you talking so much when you’re just greedy?” Yahiko laughed a few times and took a bottle of sake with the word ‘14th Generation’ written on it, then said to Charlie, “Mr. Wade, this is no ordinary sake. This is the top-class sake that is the top out of thousands. It is called ‘Laughing Dragon and Nine Heavens’, and I’m afraid that even the Prime Minister might not have the chance to even smell it!” “Laughing Dragon and Nine Heavens...” The corners of Charlie’s mouth twitched slightly as he smiled awkwardly and asked Yahiko, “Why did they choose such a weird name?”

He went behind my back. My skin prickled when I felt his breath near my neck—he leaned close, as if smelling me. “I like this scent. What perfume is this, Sasha?” “That’s Chanel No. 5 Parfum, Steffano.” My fists slowly unclenched when he stepped back in front of me. He lifted my chin again, inspecting me like a finished product, as if deciding whether anything was still missing. “How do you like her new look, Steffano?” Sasha asked.

"Not as Alexander's pitiful abandoned Luna." She thought silently for a moment, quietly returning the other clothes to their places, her expression becoming unusually grave and serious. "Alright, then we'll choose this one." Next came the perfume selection. Ruby brought over an exquisite velvet tray with five different perfumes neatly arranged. I walked over and directly picked up the bottle with the purple label—Nocturne. This was a unique fragrance I had personally designed, featuring wild iris and white pepper as the main notes, with a subtle hint of smokiness at the base.

he asked, curious suddenly. “Mmmm, yes. I bought a new kind before I left Chicago—Chloé by Chloé. Very original, no?” “You smell like flowers.” He inhaled. He’d been trained to detect subtle notes of fragrance in wines, and found himself able to do so similarly for perfumes. “I smell rose, maybe a layer of cedarwood? And amber.” She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “How did you—? That’s impressive. I think there’s also honey and peony, if I remember correctly.”

She chuckled slightly. “I guess that settles it…Adrian…” Before Gabriel could finish, sturdy steps echoed and instantly the smell of Indian agarwood mixed with sandalwood, musk, and Turkish rose filled the air. They were expensive ingredients used to make luxurious perfume that sell at almost a million and half dollars for a small bottle. The scent brought a hint of familiarity that had me thinking where I could have met such a man. I waited until he appeared, and holy heavens, he was nothing I expected him to be.

Now, silence lived in the corners of the house. Mark came down late that morning, already dressed, tie knotted tight, jacket folded neatly over his arm. He kissed her on the cheek, and she noticed it faint but unmistakable a scent that didn’t belong to her. It was floral, sharp, and expensive. Jasmine, maybe. Clara’s perfume was sandalwood and bergamot earthy, restrained. This was something younger, brighter. “Morning,” he said, brushing past her to pour coffee. “Morning,” she echoed.

she took the bottle from her pocket and showed it to the crowd; “I have taken this from her skirt earlier while I was inspecting. It had spilled after the fall, that’s why she reeks of the smell. Major Vargas, however, if you have a good nose, you can easily recognize the scent of . . .” She paused, approached me, and began sniffing parts of my white long-sleeved polo. I tensed a little at the sudden interaction when her nose touched my nape. After a few seconds of moving her nose around, she stood properly and faced the crowd, her twinkling emerald eyes gazing at Jacob’s dark brown ones as she smirked. “. . . roses. Roses blended with shiso leaves and guaiac wood, with a tiny hint of spice

That is Jessica’s Chanel Coco perfume, the one she always wore when I was the slave of this pack house. Confusion dominated by anger started boiling up inside me. Why does he smell like Jessica’s perfume?

Her eyes were blue as cave pools and distant as the stars. Madame Skia clicked her tongue at the girl. “Miasma,” she said, “You have been indulging too much in the chariko again. It is for the clients, stupid girl.” Miasma continued to smile. Her curly hair seemed to float around her head in a cloud of silver and gold. Chariko was the name of the spice Ilyria had smelt in the vestibule. They provided it to … clients? Ilyria felt uneasy. She had learned many things listening in on the merchants’ conversations. Not all of them had made sense at the time.

I woke up in the middle of the night and had to call Naki. She answered the phone groggy, “Is everything ok?” she asked. “Yes, I know what to name it! It’s perfect!” “Huh?” “The perfume, it just came to me in a dream. ‘Venom’ it stops them in their tracks. They can’t resist it.” I was smiling but Naki was yawning, Yeah, that's great”