as a mix of stale cigarettes and cheap cologne fills the air between them. She can feel her heart racing, caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. She wants to pull away, to escape the overwhelming scent, yet something keeps her rooted in place. His eyes, perhaps, are a strange blend of desperation and longing that draws her in, despite everything else.
"Please," he whispers, his voice barely audible above the thumping of her heartbeat.