His Scent

He didn't smile at my joke, but his hand let go of mine. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked out of the living room and down the narrow hall, toward my bedroom. Stepping in, I shut the door behind me and leaned back against it. My thumb and index finger pinched the cold metallic zip that had been brought up to my neck, pulling downwards as I took off the over-sized maroon jacket I had on. Apart from a couple drops of moisture here and there, it wasn't wet at all.

I hadn't been thinking properly when Damien and I had been running through the thick sheets of rain. He was leading the way, and it didn't occur to me to ask where he was taking us. But at one point, he'd taken off the jacket he'd been wearing and put it on me.

"I don't want you falling sick," he'd spoken loudly over the sound of the rain, pulling the hood up over my hair and quickly bringing the zip up as far as it would go. With that, he'd taken my hand once again and started running. If it hadn't been for that, I'd probably be the one in the living room, sneezing and catching a cold.

I looked down at my small, pink hands that peeked out from the sleeves. Bringing them to my face, I turned my head to brush the few wet strands of my hair back. A heavy, musky scent collided with my senses as my nose brushed the upturned collars of the jacket. It smelt like a breeze coming through a forest, of grass and sand with a touch of sandalwood. Was this Damien's scent? Closing my eyes, I breathed in deeply before freezing - what was I doing?

My face burned up of its own accord as embarrassment flooded in. Unzipping the rest of the jacket, I took it off and avoided the sight of my red face in the mirror as I changed quickly.

When I re-entered the living room, Damien was quick to notice the blush that lingered in my cheeks.

"You okay?"

"Fine," I said, sitting down next to him and handing him back his jacket. "Thank you."

He didn't take his eyes off of me, seeing the lie as much as he heard it in the quivering of my voice. He didn't push though, shrugging to himself and taking his jacket back.

Settling back against the couch, I crossed my hands over my chest and stared intensely at the blank television screen in front of me. What was with me earlier? Had I really been sniffing in Damien's scent? It did smell nice though. I was dead sure it wasn't from a cologne. It was too...natural to be so. Is that how he always smelled?

I peered at him through the corner of my eyes, only to notice that he was looking at me. The blood rushed to my face and I quickly returned my gaze to the TV. I was losing it.

I felt Damien shift closer to me on the couch. "I hope I didn't pass my cold on to you. Are you sure you're okay?""

I bobbed my head up and down, pulling my ponytail to the side and twisting the edges of my straight hair with my fingers. "I'm swell."

The End

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