"You smell like the stars revolve around you," Miguel complimented, his voice dropping into a low, resonant frequency that seemed to vibrate in the small space between them.
"I want to always smell something like that every morning before I wake up," he added, his focus shifting as he softly pressed his sexy lips together, the suggestion hanging heavy in the air.
Fedora heaved a sigh in total emotional exhaustion. Just seconds earlier, he thought the man had offered a genuine, rare scrap of poetry, only for Miguel to double down and sexualize the entire sentiment. He shook his head in a tired, unsurprised rhythm; his face snapped toward the floor to hide the traitorous, uncontrollable smile stretching over his lips.
"What was I expecting?" he asked himself in dry amusement. He was becoming dangerously accustomed to Miguel's annoying taunts.
