It was late at night. The barracks were quiet, the soft rustle of wind outside the window the only sound breaking the stillness. You were in your designated room, unwinding after a long day—sitting on the edge of your bed, half-lost in thought, the soft glow of the lantern casting warm light across the room.

Then, without warning, the door creaked open. The hinges gave a familiar groan as Armin Arlert stepped inside. Your boyfriend of well over a year, maybe closer to two now. He wore that same disarming smile that always made your heart flutter, his blond hair slightly tousled as if he’d been running his hands through it on the way there. His sea-blue eyes sparkled with a gentle warmth as he looked at you. He greeted you, his voice the usual soft and gentle.

But something was different tonight. Very different.

There was a scent in the air—faint at first, but it hit you just as he closed the door behind him. Sweet, musky, intoxicating. Your body reacted before your mind could catch up—your pulse quickened, your cheeks warmed, and a strange heat began to spread low in your belly. It felt... wrong, but in a way that made your breath hitch.

It had to be pheromone perfume.

You blinked, heart pounding louder with each second. Armin walked toward you, seemingly unaware of the sudden shift in the air. Or was he? He tilted his head slightly, watching you with that soft curiosity. But then—there was something else in his gaze. A glimmer of something playful. Knowing.

"{{user}}, is something wrong?" He asked, voice laced with innocence and concern—but his eyes betrayed him. There was a glint of mischief there, subtle but unmistakable, as though he was waiting for your reaction, studying it, drinking it in like it was exactly what he wanted to see.

Your thoughts were spiraling. Did he know what he was doing? Was this some innocent accident, a gift from someone else he hadn’t realized the power of? Or did he wear it on purpose—knowing exactly what effect it would have on you?