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Kris smelled like apples.
Everyone in class knew it; they knew by the way the sweet smell would fill the air when Kris walked into the classroom, especially fragrant when they had miraculously woken up in time to take a shower before school.
But there were two students in particular who especially noticed. Susie, who would be leaned over their head as they napped in class, gripping the front of her desk, making frantic efforts to avoid drooling on them, and Noelle, who noticed this...habit that Susie had. She would also be gripping her desk in class, her stomach churning at the thought that she would be jealous of her childhood best friend, the apple smell not particularly interesting to her as a child, yet seeming to enthrall the girl she loved. Oftentimes her thoughts in class were occupied by planning her next trip to the store, her future self bee-lining to the shampoo aisle.
Everyone in class knew Kris smelled like apples, because of the empty-threats Susie would make to them when she was their tormentor. Even though they were menacing sentences, Kris always thought it strange, as it was an indirect compliment to them. Who knew smelling good would make someone so angry?
Everyone in class knew Kris smelled like apples, because it was the shampoo they used. It was the smell Susie would so often complain about, cravings frustrating her as she waited for the lunch hour, only to stare down at her disappointing, scarce, lunch, and Kris was right there with their...apple-y smell.
Kris smelled like apples.
Well, their hair did, at least.
It wasn't unusual for Kris and Susie to spend all of their time together, especially lately. Whenever they separated to go to their respective homes, they both felt like they were missing something. The next morning they'd come back together, reuniting with the secret feeling that it had felt like years since they last saw each other.
What people didn't know is that Kris also smelled like chocolate.
It was subtle, something you'd only realize when you were skin-to-skin with them, or close enough to feel their breath on your cheeks, or when you were sharing chocolate with them, their beaming face looking up at you as they held the heart-shaped box in their hands. All of which Susie had experienced, and which no one else knew. It was a sweet, delicate scent, pleasant and making Susie's brain short-circuit whenever they laid their head on her. Their hair would drape over their face and spread out on her shoulder as they would both stare into the distance, appreciating the beauty of nature, and Susie would catch a mixture of what she could only describe as a most heavenly scent on earth. It started with the base note of apples, delicious and red, just like Kris's eyes, of which also only Susie had ever experienced. The sweet gourmand smell would come after, gently and oh-so-subtle, and one that she knew no one else had smelled, except maybe their mother, who coveted Kris's special chocolate, as it was a "problem".
And Susie relished in the fact that no one else knew this. That she was the only one. Anyone could smell the apples, anyone could be around Kris, maybe even hug them if they were particularly lucky, but they were never close enough to really know how their skin smelled of chocolate. Only Susie. Milk, white, dark chocolate, it didn't matter. She could stay this close to them forever if she could, her mouth resting on the back of their neck as she pulled them closer during a particularly comfortable nap session. She wished she was enveloped in the scent, in Kris's presence, in Kris's life.
Susie would never say this out loud, of course. She couldn't even really admit it to herself. It felt like her heart was in her throat whenever she'd caught herself thinking this deeply about Kris and of them, denying herself to think too much about her feelings. Some subconscious part of her also wished that, one day, she'd get the courage to say it out loud, even if just to herself.
So she'd just subtly express her suppressed desires in the form of chocolates on Kris's desk, or plopping one on their hand in the guise of hand-holding, or trying to balance as many kisses as she could on their head as they napped, wishing that they were real ones. Chocolate kisses would suffice for now, at least until it was after school, or after being in the dark would, tuckered out from their adventures.
"It's cold out."
Kris would nod and then look at Susie expectantly.
"...Come here," she'd roll her eyes, and they'd crawl over to be wrapped in a bear-hug from behind, laughing and pretending to push away, and they'd eventually settle into their routine, their thing, with her maw resting on the nape of their neck, taking a deep breath to appreciate everything Kris had to offer.
They'd spend their afternoons strolling on the streets, exploring every nook and cranny that Hometown had to offer, or at home, watching movie marathons, or sit in silly positions on Kris's bed, drinking fruit punch they'd retrieve from the weird Ice-e's, or when Toriel would ask if they wanted to bake pies, sometimes even chocolate cake. Susie found herself getting tired of the taste, but never the smell, and she'd tolerate munching on candy bars if that's all Kris wanted to do all day.
Susie loved this. She loved Kris.
She stopped twirling a pencil through Kris's hair in class, becoming hyper-aware of herself and her surroundings. They stirred a bit, face turning to rest on their right side on their desk, slightly snoring. Susie pulled back and rested against her desk, eyebrows creased. She'd never thought that before, she reflected. Her heartbeat slowly rested and she slowly started to feel a warmth spread across her face, in her stomach, on her fingertips and shoulders. It didn't matter because she always knew she loved Kris. And she knew it wasn't a big deal, because they loved her back, whether it was as friends, or something more. She knew that the way they reciprocated each other's feelings, and thoughts, and actions were result of a wavelength they were both on, and that nothing else mattered, not as long as they had each other. Things could remain unexplained, or confronted, or whatever. They could get weird looks from their classmates, wondering when and how the two got so close, or glances from Toriel, remarks made by other acquaintances, and it wouldn't matter.
She took a deep breath as she closed her eyes and crossed her arms, taking in the smell of the person she cherished, knowing that within a few hours they'd be pressed against each other, playing some sort of game or telling stories, or holding hands as they ran against the rough pavement of the sidewalks, and her stomach would grumble as she smelled the sweetness of apples and chocolate coming from her life-partner and best friend, who would giggle and offer food back at their place.
Kris's apple-scented hair could fill the streets of Hometown, and everyone could follow it, but they would never be close enough to smell or taste the lingering remains of chocolate.
Everyone knew that Kris smelled like apples, but no one knew they also smelled of chocolate.
That was only for Susie.