Inhale
Vegeta loved the way she smelled. He could admit that to himself long before he was ever able to admit the depth of his feelings for the woman herself. His keen sense of smell could always pick Bulma up in a crowd, her scent imprinted on him, haunting him day and night like an wayward poltergeist.
In the mornings before he trained, she smelled like coffee and osmanthus perfume. In the evenings, after he had returned from the GR and she from her lab, it was motor oil, smoke, and metal. On nights when he visited her bed, she smelled of vanilla body-wash and musky feminine arousal. That was his second favorite. His first was the way she smelled in the early pre-dawn, when she slept soundly next to him. It was then that she smelled of herself, her skin rich with the scent of Bulma. She was female, sweet and earthy, her aroma mixed only with the evidence of their activities that had dried upon on her skin. Marked by him, she wore his scent like a perfume.
The sky lightened as the sun crept towards the horizon. He would watch her soft slow breaths as she dreamed in his arms, far too trusting, unaware as he pulled her in for a long, selfish breath of her neck.
His Bulma.
~xox~
Written for Rutbisbe, inspired by her art= http : SLASH SLASH rutbisbe DOT tumblr DOT com SLASH post SLASH 168023796721 SLASH sketch-of-the-day-a-huge-warm