Libertine begins on a note of desperation. At first you don't recognize it as such, because it's so bright and sugary and eager: Hello! Hello! It wants to be your friend so badly! It will do anything! ANYTHING!
When it suddenly starts screaming at you, or collapses in a chaos of hot weeping, you're completely stumped-- even more so when it just as abruptly clams up and pulls away, eyes cold and lips pressed tight. Ever patient, you wait for Libertine to recover its dignity. It manages, though just barely. For the rest of your time together, its affect seems catatonic by contrast, exhausted by its own outpouring of ill-managed energy.
You run into Libertine several times afterward, but it's never the same. You sense that it prefers to maintain a slightly arch and flippant front with you, especially when others are there to serve as witnesses. This sort of distance you can accept; at least it's better than a messy scene. But you'll never forget or recreate that single instant of naked, passionate revelation you once shared. No matter how manic it seemed at the time, in retrospect all that furor seems so much more honest than this brittle facade you encounter now.
You keep waiting for Libertine to say one true thing, but the lovely painted face is mute.
Scent Elements: Bergamot, pineapple, grapefruit, passionfruit, lily-of-the-valley, honeysuckle, rose, oakmoss, patchouli, musk, amber