My baby's gloves

It's almost night and I should be working on my projects. But hey, this is what a relationship does to you sometimes!
Rastaman lost his thick, hot, woolen gloves. He's been searching around for them all over. In the end, with a sad face he concluded that his hands are going to freeze till he's got the time to buy a new pair. And we were speaking about the pretty gloves he had, how he got them when I got my candles, for New Years'. That's when we went shopping together, remember? I think I was kinda attached to his gloves too. Funny thing to say!
Later on, he went to work and me back to banging my head on all the walls of my room. The funny and sad thing is that whenever I've got so much work, I could do anything to run away from it. So, in my fake attempt to pretend I was doing something as useful as finishing my semester projects, I started cleaning my room. Not small was my surprise when in a bag that I thought empty, I found the very object of our earlier mourning: his woolen gloves.
I picked them up smiling and feeling so very content. I looked at them and smelled them to find his sweet skin smell there. I put them on slowly almost feeling guilty.
You know those people that get aroused by wearing their partner's clothes? I'm the lamer version of it: With them on my hands, I grabbed my shoulders and remained like this for a long, long time. Then, I've put my hands on my face like he does and I closed my eyes. It's almost like he was here for a second! All this got me so relaxed all of a sudden.
I feel a bit awkward for doing it. I feel undercovered for writing about it. I feel nervous for him reading this. Still, this made me so dreamy that I can't keep it for myself!
Yes my dear Rastaman, I'm getting high on your gloves!