Narcotico isn’t just a scent, it’s a state. Meo Fusciuni built it around the idea of dependence, altered perception, and surrender, and you feel that immediately. This isn’t a linear perfume - it moves like a slow descent. The opening feels dark and almost intoxicating, with boozy, resinous warmth that immediately blurs the edges. There’s sweetness, but it’s shadowy, as if you’re not meant to fully trust it. It sets the tone: this is about losing clarity, not brightness. As it develops, tobacco and balsamic resins take over, thick and enveloping. This is the heart of the story - the narcotic phase. Time feels slower here. Everything is dense, sticky, and immersive, like being suspended in a dim room filled with smoke and warm air. It’s sensual, but also unsettling in a quiet way. The drydown doesn’t resolve neatly. Woods and resins cling to the skin, lingering and intimate, refusing to fully let go. It feels obsessive, introspective, almost confessional - a perfume about staying too long in a feeling because it’s too powerful to leave. That’s why I love Narcotico so much. It’s not meant to be worn casually or to please. It’s emotional, heavy, and uncompromising - a fragrance that tells a story of desire, loss of control, and comfort found in darkness. One of those rare scents that feels honest, even when it’s uncomfortable.