Arya
I walk into the humongous walk-in closet and all I can see is a blend of grey, white and black. There are just a few browns and blues. Everything is organized in sections; shirts, slacks, and coats. Then I find belts, shoes, and ties. Whoa! It's like a mini clothes shop! Maybe it took him a whole lot of decades to collect all these? When does he ever wear them? Doesn't he ever find it hard to choose, because they are almost the same color and style?
I go deeper inside, forgetting what brought me here. It is like I am trapped in here with his scent all around me. Then I land on a laundry basket where he put the sweats he was working out in. Unconsciously, I lean down and pick up the t-shirt, and bring it to my nose. I draw in a breath, filling my nostrils with his scent, mixed with his sweat, it is a heady mixture. It makes me high. It is my cocaine!
I stay like this for a long time, doing nothing but getting drunk with this scent and horny at the same time.