“We can look into it and check which scents suit best, every smell is different depending on the person wearing it. It’s all about the chemical compositions working together.” Swift murmured, handing Mel one of his battered mirrors. It was different from his days on stage, a massive mirror with lights, the better to help him get his false eyelashes on straight, not that he couldn’t have done that with his arms tied behind his back, in the dark, in a gale.
“And it’s a unique thing sweetheart.” Swift replied, smiling as she promised to be careful.