The look on Mark's face when I said "No, that was one of the things on my list." was a wonderful thing.
I was happily burying my face one of his clean shirts, fresh from his closet and then twisted around my hands, the one I've recently stolen, and he said something about how it wouldn't smell like him because he hadn't worn it yet. That was when I said "No, that was one of the things on my list." He got this particularly cute look on his face- intrigued and flattered, almost excited to see into my mind and part of what I'd blogged about him.
"You're made up of different smells. Completely different scents that combine to make you." And I poked his belly when I said "you" He smiled and I went on, touching different parts of him as I spoke about them, "your soap," I touched his face, "Shampoo," ran my fingers through his soft bark blonde hair, "Clean cloths" I felt and took hold of the hem of hist shirt, rubbing it between my fingers for a moment, "and of course your deodorant." I pointed to his armpits, not about to poke them.
He just smiled, and I smiled back.
Thinking on it I wish I had told him that I would take any of the pieces of his scent with me, But his cloths were easy and made it feel like I was wrapped up in him when I went to sleep. He may have smiled wider.
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