It smells
“Sometimes a certain smell will take me back to when I was young. Like fresh laundry - or your jacket. Which is really weird considering-”
“considering what?” At least he doesn't sound offended, despite the obvious insult you really hadn't meant to throw into his face just now.
“Your jacket. It's, well, y’know.” You vaguely gesture in his general direction, the familiar worn hoodie open and revealing one of his nicer shirts. No stains. At least, for now.
He raises a non-existent brow, and you shrug, despite the heat flashes running down your back. “...it stinks?”
“No - it's just, not freshly-laundered? And, well, worn? Stained? Um. But it doesn't smell bad. Nice, actually… I like how you - it smells. Reminds me of home.” You're rambling, backtracking in a hurry to take it back. He looks extremely amused, and it kind of infuriates you. With a pout you turn away, huffing. “Whatever.”
He laughs, a deep rumble in your ears as he saunters closer, phalanges finding your sides as he leans in close. You really don't like the way he's invading your personal space, mainly because he's making you feel things you shouldn't. Oh, and there's that smell - lavender and chalk, mixed with the pungent smell of ketchup. Its… an earthy smell, rich and at the same time kind of a turn off.
“Can you please-”
“please what?” He asks, and you can hear the stretch of his grin in how jovial he sounds. He just loves to set you off-guard. “you're real cute when you're flustered, y’know that?”
You pull yourself away, giving him a frown despite the way you try and fight down a smile. “And you stink.”