Steam furled out into the hallway as the bathroom door swung open.  The pleasant smells of rose hips shampoo and sandalwood body wash wafted throughout the little trailer and clung to her skin as she stepped out in nothing but a towel.  It was a miracle that she was still upright after the night she’d had.  All she could imagine was flopping onto her mattress and slipping into a coma.  Her weary body had to be dragged into her bedroom and the idea of just passing out naked was tempting… If only it weren’t so damn chilly tonight.  She needed to get something on her body before she froze to death.  She flung open a dresser drawer and retrieved a pair of panties that she slid on under the towel.  Next drawer down, a cozy pair of flannel pajama pants were located and stepped into.  Only when she reached her shirt drawer did she realize that she had neglected to do laundry far too long.  Flipping through the few shirts that were in the drawer, she groaned upon noting that these were ones that she could no longer squeeze into.

With a huff, she turned and walked over to the hamper she had in the corner.  Before she could start digging through dirty clothes, she spotted a t-shirt on the floor beside it.  The scent hit her the moment she bent down to scoop it up.  Now, she was guilty of having a bit of a lingering smell of cigarette smoke on her, but the smell permeating from this article was strong.  She grabbed it from the floor and held it out, only to realize it was his.  It was that dumbass monkey shirt… The one he tossed to her when she was over and he spilled beer down the top she was wearing.  She made a face and went to toss it into the hamper, but her hand wouldn’t let go.  She hesitated, looking down at it again.  It wasn’t… dirty.  Not really.  She had watched him pull it out of his dresser to give to her.  She'd only had it on long enough to drive home, then she pulled it off and tossed it to where it had sat until moments ago.  She brought it closer, just to give it a proper smell test…  Or at least that’s what she told herself.  She buried her nose in the fabric and inhaled deeply.  Smoke was the most prominent smell.  Unlike most people, she never actually found the scent unpleasant.  It was more comforting and nostalgic to her.  Sniffing again, hints of that dollar store aftershave he used were also present, as well as a musk that was unmistakably him.

By the time she realized what she was doing, the shirt was already being pulled over her head.  Dude was much thinner than her.  Not to mention, he wasn’t lugging around massive tits.  It made sense that his shirt wouldn’t be as baggy on her as she would have preferred for sleepwear, but she couldn’t find it in her to take it off.  She “checked” the pits… obviously to make sure it wasn’t nasty.  The teensiest pang of disappointment hit her when she confirmed he didn’t sweat in this shirt before lending it to her.  Whatever.  This shirt would work until she could do laundry in the morning.  She balled the towel up, tossed it on top of the hamper, then crawled between her sheets…

God, her bedding needed to be washed too.  She could smell him on her pillow as she pulled it closer to hold, even though it had been days since he laid his head there.  She snuggled it as her eyes grew heavy.  She was so exhausted that she couldn’t bring herself to roll over and turn off the lamp.  Even as sleep threatened to claim her, all she was aware of was his stupid scent.  It felt like it was everywhere in that moment.  At the same time, there wasn’t enough of it.  It teased her.  Taunted her.  Reminded her that the stench of this Dude was starting to stink up every aspect of her life.  She spent so much time in the shower getting clean only to slip into his aroma.  She hated it… No, she hated that she wanted more of it.  She hated that she wanted to call him up even though she couldn’t keep her eyes open.  She hated that she missed him.  She hated… that someone was knocking on her goddamn door at one in the morning.

She tossed the blankets back and forced herself upright.  With great effort, she made it to the front door and didn’t even check before opening it.  At this time of night, it could only be one person.  Just as she predicted, he was standing there as if he could smell the desperation on her from miles away and just had to prey on it for himself.  Neither said anything at first.  His eyes drifted down to her chest.

“… Nice shirt,” he commented.

She looked down and just had to laugh herself.  She'd almost forgotten what she was wearing.  She should have been embarrassed that she was caught in it, but she was too glad to see him to care.  “Get your ass in here.”

Dude wasted no time making his way inside.  “Don’t tell me you were already in bed,” he said.  He looked over at the oven, checking the time.  “Didn’t you just get home?”

“You keeping tabs on my schedule now?”

“Maybe,” he said, collapsing onto her couch.  “Got nothing better to do.”

She wandered over and slumped right beside him.  When he tossed an arm over her, she settled against his side and rested her head on his shoulder.  God, he smelled good tonight.  He must have showered before coming over…  He had been doing that recently.  Sure as hell beat when he’d come over after terrorizing the town, reeking of guts and guns.  She had to admit though, she was starting to develop a soft spot for that too.