She rarely ever wore perfume. She hated leaving that sort of trail. When she did though, it was light spritzes from the bottle that lived in his bathroom. He had gotten it for her for Christmas. He hadn't really known what else to get her. The box had stayed under his tree five days past New Year's, sat quietly until she had shown up again. She had rolled her eyes to hide her smile. She told him she hadn't gotten him anything.
He told her he had assumed as much.
As she unwrapped the box she had grimaced playfully, informed him that she didn't wear perfume. He shrugged and told her she should've left him a list, then. She laughed and sprayed a bit on her wrist, smiling at the aroma. Then they sat and watched crap telly until they fell asleep.
She was gone the next morning, of course. But there was a note on the bottle.
'Don't toss it'
Now occasionally he smelled it in his flat. It was her way of letting him know she either was or had been there. As he awoke, he smelled it. He was confused for a moment. She wasn't curled up beside him. He stood and checked the loo. She wasn't in the tub. It wasn't until he reached the living area that he smelled food. Perplexed, he peered into the kitchen to see her at the stove, scrambling eggs.
"I'm out of eggs."
She glanced over her shoulder with a smile. "I got more."
"Why?"
"Because I was hungry."
He moved to her side and leaned his chin on her shoulder, lacing his fingers behind his back.
"Smells good."
She giggled, reaching over for a fork an offering him a bite. It was delicious, but the whole scenario was eating at the corner of his mind. This was not normal. Killers did not make breakfast. She did not wake him up with treats, she woke him up bleeding in his tub. She noticed that he had gone quiet and craned her neck to peer at him.
"Were they that bad?"
He shook his head, taking a step back. "No, they're fine. Great, really."
"Am I freaking you out?"
He hesitated for a moment before replying simply, "Yes."
She laughed and turned back to the eggs, dishing them out onto a plate. She pulled toast from the toaster and spread some jam on top, then carried the plate and two forks to the couch, waving him along. He followed and sat down next to her, and she laid the plate on his lap and began taking dainty bites. He watched her for a moment before joining in. He couldn't let her eat it all.
Once the plate was empty, he smiled softly at her, still perplexed. "Why?"
She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed gently. "Because I never got you a Christmas present."
