Fresh

Acridity is sharp, almost aggressive freshness—imagine biting into unripe citrus peel or the piercing green snap of crushed grass after rain. It's not sweet or juicy; instead, it carries a slight metallic, almost peppery bite that catches the back of your throat pleasantly. Think of walking through a garden where herbs have just been bruised underfoot, releasing that raw, almost astringent green volatility. It's confrontational in the best way: bracing rather than comforting.

Floral

Jasmine smells like honeyed sweetness wrapped in creamy silk. Imagine walking past a night-blooming garden after rain—you'll catch something intoxicating, almost indolic, with a touch of powder and subtle green leafiness. It's floral without being shrill; sensual without being cloying. There's a faint animalic warmth underneath, vaguely reminiscent of skin musk. The scent hovers between sophisticated perfume counter elegance and heady midnight romance—simultaneously delicate and deeply seductive.