Work Text:
your lover kills himself on a friday evening. his body casts a shadow too similar to his father's.
he comes back on the following monday, in the shape of a young girl with lovely blue eyes. her name is g-something, named after her grandmother - not that she should've been, considering - regardless, a beautiful name.
you say as much. she blushes, and thinks about a man with short fingernails.
you meet the man with short fingernails on a bus the following afternoon. well - it might not be him, but it might as well be. he too has the look. you know where he's been, what he's seen.
you pass by this man without saying a word. how, after all, do you react to the quick-beating heart under his clothes?
the girl beside you right now has a quick-beating heart, too. maybe she's smelling your perfume, your cologne. maybe she's thinking about the man with the fingernails, wondering if he too wants to - wants to -
wondering if the man wants to take his quick-beating heart and leave it in the gutter. she's always loved the smell of rain on concrete.
if there's no girl beside you, ask yourself. what smell do you love the most?
friday loved rich brown smells. reminded him of his mother's cooking.
g-something (geniveve) loves the smell of spring and the birds on the trees. her grandfather used to take her camping, away from-
the man with short fingernails hates the smell of a dusty desert.