Doing Buggy’s hair for him, Cabaji got to stand so close to his captain that he could smell him. Winding his fingers through the luxurious azure strands, Cabaji’s nose was filled with the sweet scene of Buggy’s greasepaint, the lingering floral note of his soap, and the biting tang of gunpowder that often clung to him. The scents combined into a distinctly personal cocktail that Cabaji couldn’t help but drink in.

He leaned his chest on his captain’s back as he finished tying his pigtails, and grinned, pleased for any chance to spend a little time so close to him.