Scent of Love (Scomiche fanfiction)

...Not even close.

If anyone follows this story, I'm sorry I made you wait forever for the new chapter. I promise I wasn't being lazy, it's just that I was away for a while. I've been dropping lots of hints recently so I wonder if it's obvious by now what happened to Mitch in the past. Hope you enjoy!

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There's definitely something to be said for Mitch's determination. It kept him sane during the two years of emotional roller coaster and five years of general indifference that followed. Eventually, it allowed him to focus on things unrelated to the day when his world had collapsed, helped him take his mind off the regret and hurt, the numerous what if's and maybe's. It made him into a brand new person.

He was proud of who he had become – a self-confident man who not only knew how to stand up for himself but also where to stab to cause the greatest pain. Somewhere along the way he lost track of how many hearts he'd broken, but it didn't bother him, not really. If anything, he enjoyed the numbness that had wrapped around him tightly like a shroud, and he would laugh at the irony of it, feeling dead inside most of the time indeed.

It didn't take Mitch long to discover that numbness was preferable to vulnerability, and, while he wasn't able to simply will the nightmares away, he decided that he would become strong enough to face his memories someday. The only problem was, someday came quite unexpectedly and without warning, and even though Mitch had initially felt more than ready for the final battle, it turned out he was anything but that.

It came to him like an epiphany at the worst possible moment, with Scott's hand rubbing along his inner thigh. He was quite aroused and definitely more than tipsy so his judgment might have not been on point when he decided it was perfectly fine for Scott to be kissing under his ear. It's not that anyone at the party knew who he was though, or was sober enough to remember the next day that they were practically dry-humping in the middle of the room. None of that bothered him and if he was to be honest, he couldn't bring himself to care about anyone and anything at all, not with Scott's hand so close to where he needed it, or where he thought he needed it in his drunken state.

And then, a flash. He could hardly register a bunch of people to his left taking pictures together before he heard an explosion of giggles coming from the same direction. He froze momentarily and closed his eyes tightly, trying to shut out the memories that were suddenly flooding his head. He couldn't believe it was happening again after so many years. He thought he had overcome it long ago, and yet, there he was, barely able to stand up straight while the combination of Scott's all-too-familiar scent and the blinding camera flash was stimulating all the wrong reactions in his system. Run! was a message that rushed through the synapses towards his muscle cells, and before he knew it, he was staggering away from Scott, dragging his feet against the floor as his breath grew rapid and shallow.

He was fairly surprised he had made it outside without anyone asking him questions he wouldn't have been able to answer or Scott trying to stop him. The moment he closed the door behind him, he finally felt like he could breathe again. It's been a while since he last experienced what he liked to call – for dramatic purposes – a sensory attack. He was used to joking about it, mainly to stop Esther from worrying, but in fact, he didn't find it one bit amusing. Having a superior sense of smell might not seem that bad, but if you think it was just your regular hyperosmia where his condition would have been limited to an increased olfactory acuity, you're not exactly right. Here's why.