Smells of Spices

by Spirit-hime

Her hair smells of spices. Walk into any spice shop, and suddenly it's as though she's right there beside me. I can feel her bare arms around my waist, her all-too-delicious hips, barely covered by a ratty pair of cutoffs, swaying with that sporty jaunt of hers, and all I want to do is reach right over and pull her against my chest. It's a warm, strong scent; perfectly suited for my Mako-chan.

The sweet, wholesome scent of cloves always makes me think of the holidays. A warm kitchen, thick with the scents of turkey and cranberry sauce, crumbs and sauces splattered over every surface, and the snow falling outside. She's in a pink sweater with the sleeves rolled up, and flour is smeared through the sweat on her face. She does not realize how amazing she looks right now.

There is the hot, flirtatious smell of cumin, and suddenly I see her in a bikini top and shorts, with legs that go for miles and hair that shines pink in the summer heat. She gives me a devious look beneath her loose brunette curls, as she leans forward to tie a homemade anklet of pink and brown thread around her ankle, as if she needed any sort of decoration to draw attention to her perfect calves.

The strong, sporty smell of sage brings with it a vision of basketballs on a steaming blacktop, and worn tennis shoes with the laces untied. She shoves past me with a competitive passion, and the moment when her shoulder collides with mine, it sends such a feeling like an electric shock through me that the touch itself--and not her momentum--nearly sends me tumbling. The ball makes a satisfying swoosh through the basket, and she laughs at my expression.

And my favorite--the warm, comfortable smell of cinnamon. She's soft between my arms, in an old sweatshirt that makes her all the more huggable. She says nothing; just leans back against my chest, with a gentle sort of smile that spreads across her features, and makes her more beautiful than anything I have ever seen. Her hand splays across mine, soft fingers against my rough knuckles, and I squeeze her tighter.

I lean forward, and breathe in the smell of her hair.