28 Minutes

6:18

As my eyes devour into his skin and his lips and his eyes my nose is gifted with the wonderful smell that is him. You can tell that he isn't wearing a fancy cologne by the smell alone. It's a wonderful smell. One might not even notice that the smell is there at all if they aren't looking for it.

A wonderful smell. A soft, light, clean scent floats around him loosely. Nothing like the cologne that I have on. The cologne is heavy and hangs on my clothes assaulting anyone as they walk by. My own cologne doesn't smell horrible, but it's loud and hard to miss. I've been told it's the smell of lavender and man. I've never truly figured out what a man smells like, however, I guess it pairs well with lavender whatever it is.

Harry's cologne is like a whisper. Made to draw one in after a smell. You catch it and you wonder what smells so sweet that you want to chase it. You want it. You need it. So, you follow it. As you do you're engulfed by it and can't get away, but nobody wants to. It's a sweet, sweet trap that I find myself stuck in.

I find myself leaning towards him, wanting to get closer. Wanting to get drenched in the sweet-smelling cologne. He doesn't stop me.