#what a waist...Apparition dreamers

[itzprismosblog]

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ COCONUT AND HONEY ❜

with Michael ‘Riz’ Ariza.

Request: Hey hope your okay but I love prompt 7 about not liking the smell of their new shampoo. I thought you could do this with che or riz

Prompt: Person B holding Person A very close, close enough to smell their hair. They whisper into Person A's ear: 'I don't like your new shampoo'.

BY @softi92

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 900

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to my wonderful @sonsofeorl ✨

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You're not a person with fixations, but your husband is. After having a warm and relaxed shower, you dry your hair a little with a cotton towel to take off the excess of wetness. Shaking your mane with the help of your fingers, you grab the brush to undone the tangles in it. You take a soft and cold tuft to bring it to your nose. Actually, you like the sweet smell that emanates from it, but it's not its usual scent. The tropical fruits fragrance is stronger than the coconut and honey one you are used to. And even if you don't care, you know that Riz is not going to be happy. A funny night awaits.

Braiding your hair and placing it behind your shoulders, you walk to the door as soon as you hear it. Finding your husband taking off his boots and his socks, you walk towards him with a smile of feigned innocence on your lips. He raises an eyebrow, knowing that he already noticed the smell. Wrinkling his nose, like a dog would do, he takes two steps closer while you try to catch your laughs.

“Stop, Riz”. You mumble, placing both hands on his chest, leaning back your head.

But he insists, grabbing your waist to push you onto him, sinking his nose behind your ear. You can hear him sob disgusted, making you some tickles.

“I don't like your new shampoo”.

Finally, you can't help but break in loud laughs, pulling himself away from you. You're barely breathing, watching the look on his face. Now, seeming like a beaten puppy.

“My usual was sold out”. You try to explain him, but probably Riz isn't listening to you anymore. “But they will call me in three days, when they restock it”.

Pouting at you, he just nods.

“Amor, it's just a shamp—”.

“You're the only one who can smell like coconut and honey. It's not because of the shampoo, but because you make the difference. And everytime I smell coconut or honey, it reminds me of you. And that makes me happy”.

Looking at him with widened eyes, you sigh an ‘aw’, placing both hands on your chest.

“I mean, that smells good. But it doesn't smell like my wife”.

You know he's trying to explain himself, not knowing exactly how to do it correctly. But you're understanding him, and it's melting your heart. Reaching his lips, you kiss him softly, cupping his cheeks into your palms.

“On Monday I will buy a lot of bottles, okay?”

“I'm sure I'm not gonna sleep till then”.

“Don't exaggerate”.

He didn't. The last night you could feel him constantly snorting, rolling over the bed, sobbing, getting up, tucking in (...). And not keeping in mind the dark circles under his eyes and the constants yawns. He is used to sleeping with his nose almost pressed on your nape, and the fruity smell disgusted him more than you could imagine. So you make sure to be on point at the supermarket, touring the hallways with your cart until you find the section of body and hair products. And like an apparition, you see a whole shelving filled with bottles of your shampoo, shining like a fifth avenue diamond.

When the checker sees you coming just carrying seven bottles of it, you are sure he is thinking you are crazy. Or that you work in a hair salon. Anyway, you don't care. You are happy, and you know that Riz is going to leave you in peace at the end. Once you have the bags inside your car, you set sail to the clubhouse, with a huge and satisfied smile on your lips. Parking in a side of the scrap alley, you keep a bottle of shampoo inside your bag, leading your steps to the yard. They usually don't have much work on Mondays, so you can put him away for a couple hours. Coming into the club, you find the elders inside the Templo, sending some kisses on air to the youngsters, continuing to the adjoining room.

And before you can open your mouth, Riz is suddenly getting up from his chair.

“You got it?”

By the look on the other faces, you know that they are aware of what he is talking about. And a gesture of your neck, slightly twisted, is more than enough to make him sigh alleviated. Your husband walks towards you, pulling him out of Templo as soon as you can grab one of his wrists to practically drag him through the club, straight to his dorm.

“Wait here”. You demand him, pointing at the bed. He obeys without complaints.

It doesn't take you more than three or four minutes, on washing and brushing your hair. Yes, now you smell like you are used to. And actually feels good. Like if these two smells contributed with your brain to generate serotonin. Taking off your sneakers and the socks, you step out of the bathroom to lie down on your husband's bed. His arms quickly surround you, pushing him as much closer as he can, hugging you tightly and sinking his nose in your hair. Riz closes his eyes and has a deep, deep breathing, making you laugh out loud.

“That's it… That's my wife”. He whispers, kissing your wet head so happily that gives you some gentle shivers. “I'm sorry for being so unbearable these last days, mi amor…”

“You are a pain in the ass twenty four seven, cariño. Pero así te amo”. (But I love you just like that).

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