Romans & histoires The Perfume Burned His Eyes

The sensitive skin of her pussy burning up immediately even more as suddenly the scent of a perfume like lily filled the air. "Now no one will know how dripping wet you are for me."

It seems they are used to seeing the sight of me crying all the time. I opened the letter. Slowly with trembling hands. I was utterly dumped, and I wasn't wanted anymore. Suddenly something fell. I saw a bottle. Why didn't you see it earlier? I examined the little bottle. Perfume? Well, I was given a perfume, and it smells very calming. Ah, Gerald smells good. My tears poured out. I cried out loud and sprayed the perfume on my body while inhaling my favorite scent. It's been a long time, and I haven't felt this scent. I miss this scent.

Alessia’s POV I couldn’t stop staring at the bottle. It sat there on the vanity, gleaming like it knew exactly how much trouble it had caused me. Velour d’Ombre. The one perfume I swore I wouldn’t touch again. And yet, here it was, taunting me like a ghost from my past. It was a ghost though. I sighed, propping my chin on my hand. “You really had to smell this good, huh?” The silence didn’t answer. And, just like that, the memory around this perfume seemed to be coming back together in my head.

"I really don't know what wolfsbane is! I just wanted to make a perfume similar to yours!" "So you're saying I'm framing you?" I could feel the liquid on my dress burning my skin. I rushed towards the pond, not just to treat the burn. I pulled out a vial of rose oil from my pocket and held it to my nose, but all I could smell was a vague, chemical flatness. I tried sandalwood, then bergamot… In my nose, they had lost all their layers, their soul. They were just meaningless symbols. My world—a universe built from a billion scents—was collapsing.

“I have a serious knack for making those who cross me suffer a miserable death, and unless you want to face the same fate as your sidekick over there, I suggest you be a little more open-minded.” The big-mouthed kids' eyes waver past me for a split second, then they quickly return to mine. He puffs his chest out and lifts his head as he tries to play it cool – like he is unaffected by the scene of death behind me. “Perfume.” He states firmly. “There was a hint of perfume that clung to the contents inside the envelope. It smelled like sophistication. Money.” “It was sent to you by a woman?” “If I had to bet my life on it, yes.”

However, the next second, Owen's eyes turned frosty, his gaze cold as ice. “Let go of me. Your perfume is too pungent; don’t dirty my clothes.”

I felt a hand tug at me gently. Camille stood in front of me, holding out a white handkerchief. I took it without thinking and began to clean my face, trying to remove the sticky mess. The fabric felt soft and gentle. But then the burning started. “Fuck!” I cried out. My eyes began to sting even more. It was not just the paint. Something was on the handkerchief. Something peppery and painful. My eyes burned like someone had rubbed chili into them. I dropped the handkerchief instantly and stumbled forward, shutting my eyes tightly.

It had to be something else. He pulled the crumpled lab report from his pocket and scanned it again. This time, a particular chemical name jumped out at him, one he had overlooked earlier. His jaw tightened. “Those bastards,” he growled under his breath. “They need to die for this.” “Shit. Those guys need to be killed,” he muttered aloud. “Why would they create a perfume so harmful? Are they trying to kill Amber? This bottle must have been a prank. They couldn’t have sold this to customers… right?”

“You don't like it? I got it for you before and you said it was nice” He heaves a sigh “Eve, I don't like sandalwood. I don't know why you didn't notice that I never wore that perfume for once. I said it was nice, I didn't say I loved it. Sandalwood makes me choke but I took it because I didn't want you to feel upset.” He laments before dumping the perfume on the nightstand. I look from the perfume to him, I mouth a low apology still thinking of what else to say.

The scent wrapped around him, leaving an indelible mark on the atmosphere. Unable to resist the temptation, he finally spoke, breaking the silence with a question that held a subtle undertone of desire, "Which brand of perfume do you use?" Suddenly Hazel looked at Francisco as she heard him. "Ah... it's Amarige," Hazel replied with a hint of hesitation, caught off guard by her boss's unexpected question. "It smells so nice," Francisco complimented, his eyes still closed, lost in the intoxicating scent that enveloped the car.