Silently he sat there, in his small apartment, which was now a single apartment again. There was nothing there to remind him that until three weeks ago, two people madly in love had made plans for their future together. Nothing except...
He had his cold hands buried in her beautiful suede jacket on his lap again. Ever since their breakup, he'd been dragging it around with him constantly.
He remembered all the times she had worn it, on so many occasions she had it on. On their first date, when they'd gone for a walk in the woods. On quite a few visits to amusement parks, when they'd screeched with laughter and ridden all the cheesy attractions, but he'd never been able to get anything out of them. He made her feel it, too. How terribly mean he was to her sometimes! And she just forgave him, even cut him some slack!
His fingers played with the golden zipper, he undid it and closed it again, thinking of how often she had opened it with her delicate hands, sometimes lasciviously, because they both knew what was about to follow. Sometimes with a jerk because she was pissed and wanted to get to bed quickly. But mostly he opened it for her, simply because he liked that soft, light suede so incredibly on her, and liked touching it very much.
It fit her like a glove, hugging her slender figure, accentuating her fair complexion, and when her blonde hair was down, it almost melted into the fine leather.
He lifted the jacket to his nose and inhaled quite deeply the scent so intangibly familiar to him. The cloth interior smelled a tiny bit synthetic, but this was masked by a wonderful sweetness.
She wore almost exclusively vanilla perfumes, and because the jacket had to be washed at the dry cleaners, which was very expensive and therefore only done twice in all the years of their relationship, the most diverse vanilla notes now mixed with this fine soft leather. As if intoxicated, he inhaled this beautiful smell that he would recognize anywhere in the world.
Lost in thought, he plucked a few small straws from the inside pocket where his hands had wandered. Horses, yes, that was her great passion. Even in the stable she wore her beloved buckskin jacket. But, what was it? A small, withered, pale purple flower fell into his hands. He lifted it closer to his eyes and carefully turned it back and forth in his fingers. After all these years, she had still had it in her jacket pocket and never lost it? The flower he'd brought her on their first date, he kept forgetting its name, but of course she knew it. "Heliotrope!" he heard her flute, "Heliotrope, you can make yourself a mnemonic with 'purple' and you won't forget it!" He had forgotten him, over and over again. Because he didn't care enough about such things, just as he ended up not caring enough about her.
An ache drove through his heart, razor sharp and hot, as it had so many times on the past few days. What a fool he was, what a giant idiot! The longing for her shook him, gave him sleepless nights, and made him cry every night like a kicked animal.
The scent of the jacket would soon diminish, he knew. Forever he would not be able to preserve it, and that made the physical and mental pain 1000 times worse. He knew she didn't want the jacket back. And he also knew that he deserved this agony he would suffer the day the scent was gone for good. But it still clung so well to the soft leather that it almost seemed like she was in the room with him. The whole apartment smelled of it, ravishing and tormenting him at the same time. He deserved this emotional chaos, yes. She was gone, for good, he'd pushed her away, and now she wasn't responding to his messages. With tears in his eyes and his jacket in his arms, he curled up on the couch. Never again would he find such a great woman, he knew that. But that realization came too late.
"... you have been the one, you have been the one for me.
I'm so hollow baby
I'm so hollow
I'm so, I'm so
I'm so hollow"
Music Lyrics: "Goodbye my lover" by James Blunt
--- Editor's note: Cuir Beluga is not a sad fragrance, but fine, soft and noble. This fragrance description flowed just so from my pen, or my phone, and absolutely wanted to be written