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Summary
Dottore fit perfectly within his embrace. The way the other man instinctively wrapped his arms around Pantalone’s shoulders—it felt perfect.
It would have been even more perfect if his nose had not caught the trace of an unfamiliar scent lingering on Dottore’s clothes. There was a scent there that definitely did not belong to Dottore. Pantalone would know, because every cologne and perfume Dottore owned had been chosen or gifted by him, and this was definitely not one of them.
“Ugh. You reek of them. I don’t like it,” Pantalone grumbled into the fabric against his face, pressing his nose further into the silk.
“Fufu— jealousy is unbecoming of you, Feofan.”
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It was difficult for Pantalone when everyone seemed drawn to Dottore’s radiance.
Series
- Part 7 of The Foolish Fatuus
