This evening, a chill didn't touch my skin, not even a whisper of the cold.
It was something else that enveloped me
The very desire to absorb his essence, to fuse his scent into my very being.
I chose deception, feigning a chill as an excuse.
In response, he tenderly offered his varsity jacket, a garment bearing the aroma of his world.
His fragrance lingered, a fusion of tanginess and a bouquet reminiscent of a high-end cologne perhaps ...
His gesture, a canvas of endearing innocence, wove itself into my senses, drawing me closer.
I indulged in the scent, embracing the jacket, yet a tremor of fear nestled within me
fear that people might chance upon this memento, recognizing it as his, seeing into my clandestine longing.
Throughout the evening, I revisited the jacket, each inhale a silent vow to etch his essence into memory.
Yet beneath this facade of a yearning for his scent lay a deeper truth, a yearning for the realness he brought forth, another fantasy spun into reality by his gentle action.
MDA
