Novel & Cerita The Perfume Burned His Eyes

Her stomach tightened as she gently whispered in his ears "Thank you" "You're welcome" he retorted in a low tone. "Damn!! she's wasted" he said to himself as he chuckled slightly. The scent of a perfume he was wearing sipped through her olfactory canal hitting the part of her brain that refused to leave his embrace. she kept staring at him with those large brown eyes, she drew him toward her with her eyes, he tilted his face toward hers and lay his mouth on her mouth, which was like a freshly split-open fig

I whispered, too scared my voice would undo it. He smiled, his eyes never left me all the time I studied the work of his hands. Even when he reached the drawer for the different perfumes and cologne Mira made sure I had, he picked one. Just one… as if he had studied everything and had them by heart. He spread it into the air slightly above and beside me before putting it down. I stood up carefully, which happened to be the only time he seemed to have something to tell me. His grey eyes were piercing and his pupils kept dilating and contracting like there was a war going on in his head.

With a soft grunt, she ignored the intruder and continued to shake the bottle, looking for the leakage. No drip. Perfect She ticked the first box on her checklist, ignoring the man who sat opposite her. She twisted the cap of the bottle and it is smooth, didn’t get stuck. And it’s a yes to another tick. While she is busy inspecting the new perfume bottle, Antoine sat there in silence, his mischievous eyes hiding behind his Gucci glasses. “Comment ça va, ma belle?” He asked, his voice lazy but playful and it only annoyed Clarissa who is inhaling the smell of the perfume after spraying it on her wrist.

The transparent cream would do its function and his stalker will not even know it. Being his only motive of using it. As his fingers skilfully moved over the burns, she stirred again but still didn't wake up. Once done with it, he couldn't help staring at her beautiful face. He twirled her small locks in his fingers and hated the fact that she had cut her long beautiful hair. She didn't smell like blossoms now instead you can smell the soil in her. But who said he hated it? He loved the fragrance of rain mixed with soil, the one you smell before the rain approaches.

For some reason I felt like his answer this time explained what he was feeling. Moreover, I've never seen him show emotions other than anger and joy. “By the way, are you wearing my perfume? Why?” “I thought you wouldn't notice.” He sniffed me like a bee sniffing nectar. “Does it smell good on your nose?” “Yes, why? Are you annoyed that I'm using it?” “In case you forgot, it's the perfume that you said made you sick over and over again so you wanted me to throw it away.” Ouch, I'm so embarrassed.

She thought it was a Rolex, which was why she assumed it was expensive. She didn't realize Elvin was already standing in front of her. His scent immediately permeated her nose. It was a perfume scent, perhaps as strong as *kapeng barako* (Barako coffee). Her head hurt because of the strange and intense smell. She raised her hand and covered her nose and mouth so she wouldn't inhale Elvin's scent. It smelled so bad.

He stopped speaking, tilted his head, and sniffed me. I stood my ground, my fists balled at my side as I clamped my teeth tighter, my eyes still fixed on the trail of blood his footsteps had left... he’d walked in blood. Someone’s blood. Nico’s blood. “I got you this perfume, baby,” he soothed, running his fingers across my jaw. “And you used it. With every intent to fuck... him?” he breathed out, tilting his head backward as though he was way too tired and stressed to even have this conversation.

Like the aftermath of someone shedding one skin for another. I stepped further in, my boots sinking into the thick rug as I crossed to the bed. My gaze landed on a half-open travel bag perched at the edge of the mattress. That’s when I saw it. A perfume. The sleek glass bottle caught the light from the window, the pale gold liquid sloshing inside. I froze, staring at it, the tiny script on the label unmistakable. The scent alone was enough to pull memories to the surface, memories of Lila gliding into a room with that very fragrance trailing behind her, soft and intoxicating.

But my eyes focused on the fire burning mercilessly in his eye. A promise of something. Not warm . Not kind. But cold. More like punishment to every one deserving of it including me. At this point I could swear that my pants were soaked. No, not soaked. They were fucking ruined. My chest heaved. I couldn't even move my legs. His scent had evaded my space and even crawled up my spine sending hot waves down my legs making my pussy clench so fucking hard like it was begging for a dick I hadn't even seen yet.

He turns to the wardrobe. Halfway up a string of hanging shirts his fingers hit clothes he did not own. He knew the smell before the shape. Sandalwood. Smoke. The slight metallic taste that always seemed to be on Blaze’s clothes. He pulled the black shirt from the string and brought it to his face. He inhaled once, slowly, then again. His eyes were burning. He pressed the cloth against his face and clasped it over his chest, his shoulders knocking forward as he sobbed silently. He just stood there for a while, inhaling the memory of a dead man who could not bear him.