Touch, Taste, Smell, Sight. The things he loved about Marissa. - Oneshot.
Senses
He remembered everything. The way she smelled. The way she looked. The way she tasted. The way she felt. He remembered everything, and it was all he could think about, sitting here, staring at the black casket. Everyone around him was crying, sniffling, shaking. But Ryan, he was numb, because all he could think about was her, not in the last moments of her life, but for the past 3 years he'd known her. The way she smelled, the way she looked, the way she tasted and the way she felt.
They way she smelled - like incense and and vanilla, and when she laughed, you could smell her fresh cinnamon breath. When she shook her head you could smell the traces of her Herbal Essences Rose shampoo. All blended together it smelled heavenly, and it made you want to lean closer. Sometimes, though, when she just wakes up, she doesn't smell like that at all. She smells like clean laundry and roses - fresh roses. He wasn't sure which smell he liked better, but he knew that whichever scent she smelled like, he didn't mind. He just leaned closer.
The way she looked -She looked beautiful. When she was laughing, or crying, or if she looked like she was about to deck you - she always looked beautiful. She was graceful, with her height, and she always looked well put together. When she danced she looked like a ballerina, when she walked she looked like a model, when she did anything she looked ...perfect. When she wore that little silky pink dress, and twirled around in it, she was the happiest. She looked amazing.
The way she tasted. It was Ryan's favourite. Her lips tasted like cotton candy - oozing of sweetness. The skin on her back tasted like how her hair smelled - like her shampoo, and a little salty. Her stomach tasted like vanilla. The back's of her knee's tasted salty and a little bitter, unlike the rest of her - this wasRyan's favourite spot to kiss. She was ticklish back there, though, so he didn't get to kiss it very often.
The way she felt. Her skin was so smooth. She moisturized everyday, she told him once. Maybe she did, he thought, but that wasn't it. Her skin was naturally like cream and silk. If he caressed her shoulder, it would give him soft hands for a week. She probably never got pimples, he thought, because every inch of her was perfect. Everytime he held her hand, he would run his fingers along her skin - up her arm, along her shoulder, down her back - just to make sure her skin was stillsilky soft. It was. She never had a dry patch on her.
It was his turn to go up and read his speach. He had it all prepaired - in his mind. He had no clue what to say, before, but now, he knew exactly.
"We should remember Marissa as best we can - a happy, beautiful person. Before the tragedy, before.. this. We should remember our favourite things about her. My favourite things were her senses - the way she smelled like incense and vanilla, like cinnamon and shampoo. Like fresh laundry and fresh roses. The way she looked beautiful no matter what. She tasted like cotton candy. She felt like cream and silk. Whats your favourite thing about her? Think about it. Thats what you should think about whenever you remember her. She was Marissa Cooper. She was amazing."
Ryan stepped down from the podium and looked at the now open casket. She was just as he remembered her. She was wearing her favourite pink dress, and she smelled of laundry and fresh roses. He walked closer and carressed her soft cheek, rubbing it with his thumb as he used to. Still soft as the silk pink dress. A single tear fell from his eye, slipping down his numb cheek, landing on her dress. He pressed his lips against thumb and onto the spot on her dress.
Then, returning to his silence, he walked back to his seat, next to Summer. She was weeping silently, her whole body shaking. Suddenly, her arms were around him, clinging to him with all her might. He hugged her back, and she pulled away. She smelled like incense and vanilla.