"It's nice," he repeated, snuffling deeper into her hair and the place where her neck met her head, just behind her right ear. "Like oakmoss and wood and bergamot; sort-of spicy sweet. It suits you, peaches and jasmine and all." He sniffed again, not unlike a small fluffy dog.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2008-08-25 08:13 pm (UTC)