So, I've found this blog on Tumblr (otpprompts) and I liked pretty much all of the ones I read. I've decided to smooth back into writing after my break (ish) that I took with some one shots (I hope they stay one shots).
Prompt: Imagine person A of your OTP has long hair that's hard to take care of, and person B brushes it for A.
It had been a long day, longer than usually. It hadn't been that the team had gotten a case that was particularly hard; nothing like that. It was Friday, end of a tiring, pencil-pushing week. Provenza had volunteered to take Rusty for the weekend, and Sharon (after much confirmation from the boy himself) agreed. Sharon practically sprinted to her bathroom, pouring herself a warm bath. With the tub started, she headed back to the kitchen pulling article after article of her clothing off and discarding it unceremoniously to the ground.
I'll clean that later, Sharon told herself. She poured a big glass of wine, heated a bowl of left-over penne, and headed back to her waiting bath. Sharon set her glass down on the edge of the tub then reached for the bubbles. This was exactly what she needed.
Sinking into the tub up to her chin, Sharon exhaled deeply. She let the waters take her worries and the wine take her mind. She didn't know how long she sat there, soaking in the bath and letting the worries of the week slip away, but by the time she was ready to get out, the wine was gone, she had finished the left overs, and she was squeaky clean. Slowly, she pulled herself from the tub and wrapped a towel around herself. She laughed slightly as she realized her hair had soaked up a portion of the tub. As thick and nice as it was, she had to put in a lot of effort in the mornings- and a night- as well as pay a lot for haircuts. Her stylist had finally became exquisite. The stylist, of course, was great before but now she had just gotten perfect.
Andy had certainly noticed the changes of hairstyles too. His appreciative nod when she walked into the murder room was enough for her. She blushed and turned herself away from the mirror. She was like a teenage, examining herself to see what the men thought of her. Just like then, there was nothing much to look at, or so she thought.
Sharon walked slowly and leisurely back to her kitchen. She poured another hearty glass of wine and placed the container that had held her dinner in the dishwasher. She had left a puddle of water as she trailed through the condo creating more of a mess she'd have to clean later bust she didn't care, not today.
She blamed answering the door on her carefree mind. Actually, she blamed it on the wine and the bath, because when the knock came on her door at ten that night, she answered it. Still wrapped in a towel. Her hair was still soaked. She had blushed brightly, cursed herself inwardly, and tried to hide behind her door once she saw who it was.
"Andy," Sharon whispered shyly as she hid behind the door, her teeth gnawing her bottom lip in a nervous habit.
Andy cleared his throat nervously looking at the ground. He shifted his weight between his feet and a red tinge took up from his neck.
"I, ah, um," Andy cleared his throat again and made himself rest his eyes on hers and nowhere else. "I came to see if you were alright. You seemed tired leaving today and all. Plus, you let Rusty go with Provenza."
Sharon smiled and looked down at the puddle currently forming at her feet. She counted the drips from her hair to the puddle. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven-
"Will you- ah- erm, can I-" Andy stuttered again, clearing his throat. "May I brush you hair?"
Sharon's eyebrows knitted together, her lips pursed. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen-
Sharon nodded, slowly. She stepped aside to let him in.
She debated excusing herself to get dressed or somewhat decent, but she was feeling to lazy and thrown off by his request.
"Would you like anything to eat, drink…?" Sharon asked.
"No, just a brush," Andy said with a boyish smile.
"Oh, okay," Sharon said as she walked through the puddles her hair had previously made as she had left the bathroom. She reached for her brush; it was a simple wooden round brush. She padded down the hallway, still counting her hair drops. Thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six-
"Where do you want me?" Sharon asked in allow voice. Andy turned his head to look at her over the back of the couch.
"Just right there," Andy said pointing to the armchair in the corner. Sharon gave an approving nod. She handed him the brush, their fingers grazing slightly at the hand off. Sharon sat in the armchair, facing the back of it, her towel still tied tightly around herself. Andy stood like a statue, just looking at the long hair.
"Start from the bottom," Sharon whispered as she sensed his hesitation, "and work your way up."
"Okay," Andy whispered back. He lightly brushed the soaked hair's ends. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. One, two, three, four, five, six…" Andy counted each brush stroke, growing more and more confident with each. Sharon leaned back into the brush just a little, and Andy noticed. His count stumbled, but the brush did not.
Andy ran a hand lightly from Sharon's shoulder to behind her neck, then the slid his hand to the end of her hair, tracing her spine. Sharon shivered and hummed lightly. Andy placed his hand under her hair and continued brushing.
"Why?" Sharon asked after he hit one hundred and before he started over.
"Why what?"
"Why did you want to brush my hair?"
Andy shrugged before replying, "You have nice hair."
Sharon giggled softly. Andy ran the brush through her hair three last times.
"Thank you," Sharon whispered as she wiggled to face him.
"It was my pleasure, you have truly amazing hair," Andy said with that boyish smile that always made her insides turn to mush.
"Would you- um- like to maybe stay the night?" Sharon said the invitation with a smile. She stood up slowly and carefully, her eyes never leaving her delicately painted toes.
"I'd love to. Is there anything I could do for you?"
"Hold me," Sharon whispered almost in audibly. "Just hold me."
Andy complied without a second thought. He wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders and hugged her close to himself.
Andy picked her up. She was swept from her feet and cradled in his arms. She giggled girlishly as he walked with her to her bedroom.
Sharon ended the night counting how many drops of water hit Andy's sleeves before rolling onto the mattress.
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