BenchedLoon
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Summary
When Shane got home that evening, he immediately parked himself on the couch and opened his browser. He typed in “essential oil diffuser” and was immediately overwhelmed with hundreds of options and brands of essential oils.
Series
- Part 2 of The Scents That Stay
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Summary
Shane knew he was very particular about smells. The locker room smelled faintly of bleach, but was laced with a sickly floral smell that made Shane want to gag.
Series
- Part 1 of The Scents That Stay
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Summary
“You’ve never gotten me flowers before,” Ilya whispered, eyes glassy and his cheeks flushed pink.
“You’re blushing,” Shane teased, leaning down to press a kiss to the flush on Ilya’s face.
“No I’m not- I- Russians do not- I am not blushing!” Ilya spluttered, his cheeks darkening into a deeper red, making his blue eyes sparkle even more.
Shane laughed. “You absolutely are. But it’s okay, it’s very cute,” he said.
Or: Shane gets Ilya flowers, and Ilya absolutely melts.
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Summary
It wasn’t that he wanted to die, per say, but the thought of it became more and more appealing as the years dragged on. Oftentimes it wasn’t even because he missed his Mama, though he did, with every fiber of his being. It was just that he didn’t really feel like there was a point anymore. There was nothing to live for. Yeah, he had hockey, but even that was becoming a chore. He did it so Father wouldn’t constantly be on his ass calling him a lazy, useless waste of space. He felt as if any joy or love or any positive emotion had been covered by that thick, dark cloud that spread and spread until he could feel it in his lungs with every breath. Much like the cigarettes he was breathing in by the carton, he welcomed it. Welcomed the dark and found himself becoming intimately familiar with each whisper of its wind.
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Summary
The door next to him flung open and two long, muscular legs strode out into the night. Shane stared at the boots that were pointed away from him before they slowly turned around. The door clicked closed and the boots walked around to Shane’s other side and he heard the soft oomph of their owner sitting down beside him. Shane closed his eyes, suddenly too aware of his wet cheeks, but doing so only made the world tilt dangerously, so he opened them again and focused on a spot on the ground in front of his feet. He heard the telltale sound of a lighter clicking and the deep inhale from the man next to him. He smelled the familiar scent of tobacco, that he really did hate, but in this moment he loved it because of who it represented. He found himself inhaling just as deeply, sinking into the familiar aroma that was gently laced with pine and vanilla.
“You smoke now, Hollander? Craving it?” said Rozanov, taking another hit.
Or: Shane is mad at Ilya for his lack of communication when they run into each other at a club. Angst and feelings ensue.
Recent series
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- Words:
- 2,142
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 6