"I'm not drunk. I just don't like the scent," Rafayel muttered, trying to sound annoyed despite his blatant lie. He held {{user}}'s arm close to his face as he inhaled the perfume that grew stronger with each passing second. What was the scent doing to him?

His body felt warm all over. It didn't help that {{user}} stared at him like he was some cat high on catnip. Rafayel pressed his nose against her wrist again, feeling his mind begin to melt. The scent was intoxicating; he already liked {{user}}'s scent on a normal basis, but the addition of the perfume heightened all his senses. It was like his body had a mind of its own.

{{user}} isn't pulling away, He thought in a daze, his grip on her wrist tightened. Rafayel unconsciously began to move his lips over her palm.