Maisie
I hopped about in a circle, slipping into my socks. A nervous excitement cramped my stomach as I watched the time again.
Past eight.
I hummed a nameless tune as I browsed through the scents stowed away in my small dresser. Citrus? Freesia? Champagne? Strawberries? Which one did he like better, I thought?
Having a too sharp sense of smell, I wasn't often keen on perfumes, but I threw caution to the wind and dunked the sugared blackberry and vanilla.
I smiled at the mirror, feeling all gooey inside.
My skin was freshly shaved. I smelled like a little cone of delicious ice cream flavours. I had light make up on. And I was running the brush through my hair for the sixth time.
I was getting ready for bed.
Sort of.
Who was I kidding? My sleeping shirt was hanging off my shoulder invitingly, showing off the length of my neck. My shorts were shorter than regular shorts, barely covering my ass. I hadn't bothered with any underwear. I'd even applied some lipstick.
