Kaya
"You smell more of tree resin and warm spice when you're calm," I explain as I start all over again. "It's sweet. But your scent becomes colder, more earthy when tension bolts through your muscles. I can still smell it––it's like taking a morning stroll in the winter woods."
Then, I notice another change, though now, I don't think it's tension. The moment I uttered that last sentence, the air around him shifted into sweetness again, but when I looked into his eyes again, I felt a slight tingle deep inside my chest.
"It's like reading an old book by the fire with a fresh scent of the pine forest seeping through the open window," I mumble quietly, more to myself than for him to hear.
Magnus says nothing, his expression carved from stone, but I see the flicker of something behind his eyes—a slow burn that mirrors the heat crawling up my neck.
