LUCIEN

Her being so close to me felt a bit strange; her scent filled my nose as I tried to find out what it was. "Vanilla", I blurt, unable to help myself.

"What?" She looked up at me, her face scarred with bruises. I wonder if she intentionally left them exposed for me to see, or maybe she was comfortable with them on her.

"You smell like vanilla," I say, and then I begin to wonder why I had just blurted that out once again.

"Oh, it's the bath wash," she said, raising her hand to her nose and ...