The delicate fragrance lingered long after she had passed and he breathed in the intoxicating smell, letting it invade all his senses and his mind. It was all he could think about as he left his seat in the train carriage and followed the smell as the train pulled into the station.
He spotted her walking up the stairs and he quickly made his way off the train unable to ignore the smell any longer; night after night he had smelt her, watched her and ignored her . . . . until now.
Now was the right time for him to introduce himself; his confidence overflowing as he picked up his step, hoping to catch her up and share with her his love of perfume, her perfume.
In fact he was sure he carried that very same perfume in his pocket, the very same perfume that he had left with the last woman after she had said no; the newspapers called it his signature and penned him the rather unimaginative 'Perfume Killer'. . .