Tuesday, 5:02 pm
The room was silent, he stood by the window and was staring out.
He noticed that your window was larger than his. He also noticed that your room was much larger than his.
Even though you lived in the same neighbourhood as him, your house was much bigger compared to his.
Maybe because he lived in an old one, one that required some care and repairs.
But this was not the time to think about all of this, his mind was telling him something else.
This was your room, and this was the first time he entered your room.
Everything in here resembled you, smelled like you.
Oh, your sweet scent. It was everywhere, he was surrounded by it.
It smelled like cherries and vanilla, the entire house.
You had placed scented candles in every room and allowed their scent to take over the atmosphere.
But your room smelled different, it owned another scent.
And that scent was yours. Your bed on which you sleep, the clothes you wear, the chair you sit on, your hairbrush standing over your desk.
All of them were things you used almost every day.
Things you marked with your scent, things that were important to you.
Things you might notice if they were missing. Things that were easy to carry.
Maybe he could take on of those many options, and give it back to you later.
But these were things he wanted to keep forever. And never give back.
He looked at your brush before he walked towards your desk, taking the plastic into his hands and nearing it to his nose.
He inhaled the scent and decided to keep it.
But what about the clothes?
Those would have more of her scent, he thought.
So he placed the brush back on the desk and walked to your closet, sliding the doors open.
His eyes were wide, observing every piece of clothing you owned.
He knew them all, he had taken pictures of you while wearing them.
An unknown smile formed over his lips as he brushed his hands over the hanged shirts, dresses and skirts.
Your jeans were all neatly folded and piled up on the upper shelf, more shirts and tops below.
But those weren't enough for his desire, he needed something more personal.
Something that would allow him to imagine your body better.
He needed sizes and for that, he needed something you wear underneath your clothes. Your undergarments.
He saw three drawers under the open doors of the closet. Without sliding the doors shut, he then knelt down.
He slowly pulled one drawer open and that's when he gasped every so quietly, he had found the treasure.
He had found your collection of bras, designed in many different colors and forms.
Some were sweet while others were erotic. He had even found one that was see-through.
I want to see you wearing this, he thought and raised the red see-through bra.
His cheeks were now flushed with a faint red, he felt like a naughty kid.
