Perfumer's Note

There is a physics to the first kiss — a closing of distance so slow it feels infinite. The Held Breath opens with a rush of cold air and a sparkling, skin-warm neroli, as if the world has gone very quiet and very bright all at once. At its heart, a trembling rose — not a bouquet, but a single petal pressed between two palms — wraps around a barely-there spearmint and the almost unbearable warmth of someone else's cheek. It dries down to something tender and permanent: blonde musks and pale amber that settle like a memory you didn't know you were making.

“a first kiss”

The Held Breath

The moment before everything changes.