Lois had bathed her red eyes in cool water and hoped that any lingering traces of distress could be attributed to this morning when she had cried on Clark's chest. Just after midday, she heard Clark enter the kitchen. She stood from where she had been pretending to write her novel.
She sniffed and couldn't detect any traces of smoke in the air. Not obvious ones, anyway.
Would it be enough to keep Clark from being suspicious? Was his olfactory sense as keenly developed as his sight and hearing?
She sniffed again, and this time, she smelled it. The aroma curled into her nostrils.
She inhaled again. And again. Hardly daring to believe.
Thanks!
Corrina.
ETA - Thanks to Patrick for the meth idea!
