Well, wasn't that a weird addiction.

He truly couldn't find a word other than addiction for that scent of yours. He couldn't quite place his finger on what exactly you smelled like. It wasn't the sweet perfume, the fresh shampoo, or any of those fruity body butters you used. No, it was the smell of your skin. Your bare skin.

And it was all over his apartment. The bed, the couch, hell, even the air smelled like you - your addicting aroma that only he had the privilege to smell.

"Lemme..lemme kiss that pretty little palm again.."

The attorney mumbled as you two laid in bed together after a tiring day of work. If there was a God out there, he sure did favorite Hiromi because there was no way, no way, he could have you- the you, in his arms, every night, and your little drool-y cute face in his pillow in the morning.