Lavender.

Today, you came with many reasons to go when I just wanted you to stay. Today, you were as stubborn as you had never been.

So with not a single grit left to fight for us, can I at least beg you for the last time? Though I have never been, or could never be prepared of losing you, Nadhir, can I hug you once as if we are still ours to keep?

You have never nodded your head so unsure, yet you had both your fists loosen and your lips parted to reply with something that came out so breathless and voiceless: go on.

And finally I gave in to the vague, unusual scent of citrus and the choking reek of alcohol that I noticed as I pulled you closer; you had no Idea that the way you stood very still hurts me less than the absence of your lavender.

Because to me, lavender is a scent of going back home. Your embrace felt nothing like it, but I could just always pretend that it did with a name of perfume I have memorized for far too long.