Santana/Quinn.
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"Your warm whispers, out of the dark they carry my heart, your warm whispers, into the dawn they carry me through..."
Vanilla.
It's the first thing she remembered noticing when the blonde sat down in front of her in Spanish class freshman year, her senses having peeked the minute the other girl's presence neared. Santana had looked up and around quickly to find the source of the sudden sweet smell that had commanded her attention so demandingly, her nostrils finding the culprit one row up with a shiny pink bow in her hair as the golden curls it held together swung back and forth neatly. It's those same long, blonde tresses that have gone on to tease her everyday without fail, the scent of Quinn's shampoo having tickled her nose every morning as she breathed the head cheerleader in and out deeply before watching those sunshine locks turn away and cause her perfectly placed pony tail to sway. Santana would try to remember if Quinn had always smelled like that or if maybe it was something new, the soft, sweet breeze that wafted her way every time the other girl moved her body blowing away any further discussion over the object as Santana sighed. She knew she probably looked crazy as she leaned in uncomfortably to catch more of her scent, and that if she ever saw herself she'd probably kick her own ass for being such a fucking creeper, but the smell of Quinn's sweet shampoo completely took over her senses while she forgot any and everything as her being was overwhelmed.
"It's fresh baked cookies," Quinn had told her one night as they lay comfortably under the stars, "It smelled exactly the way I thought it would."
"It's nice," Santana mumbled from her place between the crook of Quinn's neck as she lay there and smiled, her fingers having gotten tangled and lost in the shining, blond curls as every turn on her fingers released a wave of sweet smells, "Its my favorite."
It's not just her hair that smells delicious either though, Santana able to remember the smell of the tangy sweet bubblegum that Quinn chewed. It's the tropical kind in those bright orange, yellow, and green packs that they sell in the gas station down the street from her house, the blonde's purse filled with the white and blue wrappers from numerous occasions of popping in the little coral strips. She would smack and chew and contort the piece of gum around between her lips with her tongue until it was softened as she blew a few bubbles here and there, the citrus gum filling her mouth with the most delicious breath as she leaned in to whisper to Santana.
"We'll get out of here someday?" she'd ask as the fruity hint of pineapple would cascade from her lips, her voice dripping slowly like molasses as she'd bat her eyes and smile.
"Yeah, yeah we will," Santana would nod as she linked her own fingers with Quinn's, their skin warm as it came together and giving the blonde the relief she needed, "Someday, we'll get out here, just you and me."
"I like being with you," Quinn had whispered into the darkness as she sighed, her piece of bubble gum still looping around her mouth as she gnawed on it lightly, "There isn't anyone else I'd rather be with."
The confession had made Santana bubble like uncorked champagne as Quinn's words eased her body and mind like warm milk, the blonde's simple, sincere thought making Santana flutter. She wondered if Quinn had meant it or would remember it in the morning but chose to take the opportunity to bask in the thrill, still watching the blonde's small lips fumble with the now tasteless gum between them and causing Santana to wonder if Quinn had ever chewed a piece to hide the smell of the brunette's saliva from her own.
And sure, she may not be able to tell you the brand that Quinn uses or her favorite overall but Santana can sure as hell tell you it's a mixture of pink lemonade and cherries, the scent of Quinn's sugary perfume having drifted down the halls and into the Latina's nose more than once as her friend passed her by. It would always linger on for a few moments as it overflowed Santana's signals with lust and hunger, not in a pungent way though but more like the overpowering need-you-now-behind-the-bleachers-and-in-the-backseat-of-my-car kind of way, a cruel, teasing reminder of how good Quinn always smelled, how good Quinn always was. It always seemed to stay on Santana's clothes and skin and mouth, the backseat of her car and the sheets she laid in every night always stained of Quinn's tantalizing scent as a reminder.
"It smells good," Quinn had remarked one day as she climbed in Santana's car, "It smells like…like…"
"You," Santana had finished as she turned the car on, "It smells like you. It smells like home."
But despite the fruity scents and syrupy lotions she rubs on to make herself sweeter and more appealing none of them come close to the one Santana loves the most, the one she has to work for, the one that only she gets. It doesn't come in some antique, pretty bottle or flutter from another elegant, brightly colored dispenser, the best scent she's ever smelled having radiated from Quinn's skin. It's the one that developed after their legs untangled and their arms unlinked, when Santana's lips finally detached from Quinn's neck as the blonde's porcelain fingers released the folds of tan skin they'd clawed and scratched, their previous moving and thrusting and rolling now leaving behind something more pleasurable and desired than any perfume could. It was the sweat from her brow as Santana made her frame quiver and the saliva from her moans as she panted for more, the scent of their mixed and raveled bodies hanging in the air as the brunette breathed it in. It's different from anything Quinn had ever worn before because it was primal and heated, having marked her perfect body with Santana's own, the one and only time that she smelled like the brunette even if it was just for the moment.
And it's there that she realized how much Quinn captivated her, how even simple smells like honey and cinnamon could always bring her right back. Everything always brought her right back there, and she smiled as she realized that there's no place else she'd ever want to be.
"And I'm weeping warm honey and milk, that you stay surrounding me, surrounding me, honey stay surrounding me."