Scent of Love (Scomiche fanfiction)

Cold sheets

A/N

So, this is it. I still can't believe I'm letting go of those characters, got kind of attached ;)

A big, big thank you to all of you, guys! Thank you for your support, the votes, and ever-amusing comments. It was a fun journey.

Special thanks to _opheliac, Sreed09, bantambirdie and singforeverxo for being there for me and putting up with my endless ranting. I've had some very inspiring conversations with you, guys, and I'm forever grateful!

On another note, look out for spin-off one shots for this story! There are still areas I wish to explore and topics I'd like to touch upon when it comes to this storyline and these characters. Hope to meet you there :)

A gust of wind sent chills down his spine. He wrapped his arms tighter around himself, secretly wishing it was a different set of arms altogether. He was tired.

Keeping his eyes fixed on Scott's slightly hunched back, he wondered if the man was even aware of how intensely he was staring at the paving beneath his feet. Not a single muscle on his body moved, not a word was spoken. Mitch held his breath and waited, like he would always do. He was used to waiting.

"What?"

The unexpected question effectively pulled him out of his thoughts, making him wonder when his own gaze had fallen to the ground to join Scott's. Maybe if he stared at it long enough, it'd open up and swallow him whole. Oh, if only it could.

"What did you just say?" The voice echoed in his ears again.

And that was when it hit him like a punch to his stomach. He had said it. The thoughts he'd been trying to suppress all this time were suddenly transforming into words and materializing. They were real, almost tangible, they were out there. And, above all, they were terrifying, even to his own ears.

"I-" he started and trailed off momentarily. He what? There was no justification he could think of, other than his own carelessness. He had let the words slip out of his mouth in the moment of weakness. He didn't mean it. Or did he?

"Say that again."

The voice seemed muffled, yet strangely insistent, and it made Mitch look up from where his eyes had been admiring the cracks in the concrete. He instantly regretted the action as he found himself staring into a pair of blue, narrowed eyes, eyes that pleaded for something he wasn't sure he could give. Something he wasn't sure he had.

And when had this man turned around, anyway?

"Okay, I guess I heard it wrong," the blonde whispered after a few more seconds of silence, but before he could move to walk away, a hand grasped onto the sleeve of his hoodie.

"No," Mitch half-yelped, fist tightening in the fabric. "Don't."

"Mitch-"

"You heard it right," the boy admitted in a small voice, gaze lowering again. The shivers intensified tenfold, even though the wind had already dropped. His hand was still balled in the cotton of Scott's hoodie when he muttered, "I feel really vulnerable right now. And ridiculous. Make it stop."

"Say it again first, please."

"What the fuck, Scott?" Mitch cringed, letting go of the blonde's forearm before hiding his face in his hands. "Why are you doing this to me? I'm so confused and terrified right now. I thought you'd left me but I just found out you'd gone to fucking Australia for me and I'm still so damn mad at you for doing it all in secret but like, no one has ever done anything like that for me, and it's been four months, and I missed you so, so much and-"