The Perfume Burned His Eyes Novels & Stories

She never did. She didn’t even give me a second. One moment I was standing there, the next she slammed into me, arms tight around my shoulders. My bag slipped, almost fell. My ribs squeaked under the squeeze. And then—bam—the smell of her perfume hit. Sweet at first, then sharp, almost burning, and strong enough to cling to my nose. “Look at you!” she pulled back, eyes darting all over me like she was scanning for damage. “Same eyes. I knew it. If it weren’t for those, I’d have walked straight past you.”

The thorny bite of Desert roses. And Myrrh. His heart stumbled over himself in a choking gasp. Tears filling his eyes at the smell. Her perfume. Something he had forgotten not by choice. But because every trace had faded over the years. Was it really… Alexander couldn’t resist himself. He inhaled deeply, straining every muscle in his chest like a starved man. And just as desperate, greedily held it at the top of his lungs until it could burn. As if making it burn could also mean finally keeping it somewhere it wouldn’t dry up and fade away.

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?

She wanted to stop imagining the other life he might be living just beyond her sight. But in the dark, the perfume lingered still — not jasmine now, but smoke. End of Chapter 2 — Seeds of Poison.

Her perfume was frankly beginning to choke him. "Oh, I'm sorry", she said sadly, her eyes watering in an Oscar worthy performance. Alex wasn't stupid, he could see right through her. His eyes twitched. This was all Myla's fault, if she loved him like she was supposed to be wouldn't ever have to be exposed to such a blatant display of idiocy. He shook her off and walked to his father's office. He smelt her the moment she walked through the door. Hers was a smell of lavender and sandalwood, it made him itch with want. He graciously walked towards where she should be and saw that Hailey had hurt her again.

"Don't. Leave. Without. My. Permission." She took in a gulp, deathly, in other words, her life was completely over. Without thinking, she quickly unzipped her bag before bringing out a shallow perfume, not to shallow but her father had gotten it for her. It was the perfume that made one.. well, it was just a perfume. She flushed it towards his eyes hurriedly, he let out a shrill yell, releasing his hands away from hers, taking that as a good motive, she bounced up from the chair and fled outside.

for forcing me to live with the weight of my choice, blaming myself every day for doubting that I had done the right thing. I open my eyes again, they sting, but if I keep them closed, I’ll remember those damn flames, the destroyed car, the glass scattered between the stones and the earth. The smell of fuel sometimes burns my nose. In fact, it seems to be impregnated into my skin. No matter how many times I rub my body, I can still feel it on me. Death. The smell of burn… I swear I can still hear Julian’s cry.

Without hesitation, she sprayed it directly into the drunkard’s face. Almost instantly, the man let out another guttural scream. The chemical reaction in the perfume specifically designed to burn and irritate took effect immediately. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME, BITCH!” His hands flew to his face as he collapsed to his knees, eyes wide in pain, screaming and begging for relief. Alexander didn’t even blink. He turned coldly to the bar’s security staff, who had rushed to the scene after hearing the commotion. With a quiet but authoritative tone, he issued an order.

He turned his face toward me, and for a terrifying second, those clouded eyes felt like they were seeing right through the porcelain foundation and the colored contacts. “Why did you change it?” he demanded. I had to think. Fast. The truth was that the perfume Emelia gave me made me sneeze and gave me a migraine, so I had dabbed on a tiny bit of my own cheap vanilla oil, thinking he wouldn’t notice such a small detail. I was wrong.

Thirty minutes after use, the user experiences thirty seconds of intense weakness, leaving the user extremely exposed to attack. But I don’t settle for less. Never have and never will. And although there is no way to rectify this flaw in the perfume, I have another way to make up for it. With my plan in mind, I can’t help the maniacal laughter that escapes me from growing excitement. They are all blind.