" It was filled with a dark paste, rather than liquid. I unscrewed the cap. The smell rolled toward me, and I reared back. I could almost hear growling, the pop of a bone socket.
"Civet," Claudia said, unfazed. "It takes a strong stomach to smell an animalic base note straight, don't you think? But a drop or two, down there in the bottom of a perfume? It sends that other message. Death and sex- that's what perfume's all about. You'll understand when you're older."
I stared back at her. I knew about death. I knew about sex. I didn't need her to tell me.
She held out another bottle, her expression bland. "Jasmine."
I was cautious this time, barely sniffing the contents, but the smell was a relief- sweet, white, and creamy, almost euphoric. I felt as if I were floating in it.
Just as I was about to put the bottle down, though, I caught a whiff of something else in the background, something narcotic and sticky. I inhaled more deeply, trying to pin it down.
"You like it," Claudia said. For the first time, she seemed pleased with me. "Do you know what that is, that note you're searching for?"
I shook my head. It was right there, but in that cool, blank room, I couldn't quite name it.
"It's shit," Claudia said. She smiled, slow and lazy. "Technically, the molecule's called indole, but a rose by any other name... "

― Erica Bauermeister , The Scent Keeper