"Perfectly Imperfect" - Big Love, Barb, F, Allergies, for Chanel

[SleepingPhlox]

Okay, I have two apologies to make.  The first is that this took so long to post and I am sorry from the bottom of my heart for that.  The second apology is that I've had to break it up into different parts because...well, I got carried away writing the fetishy bits and it's hard for me to keep things short and I ended up with a stupid amount of pages SO FAR and it's not even done yet.  That's not so bad, except that I've portioned it out into scenes which means that this part ends in an unforgivably CRUEL place and I am aware of that, and I apologise in advance for that, okay?   Also I just realised that there is no actual sneezing in this bit so I apologise for that too!  I hope that this is okay despite those things!

I'm not sure if the date of their anniversary has been mentioned.  I looked it up and didn't find anything, so I decided to go for being vague as to what the date and time of the year are.

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Part 1

“One of those days where everything just works out” is a concept that is often spoken of, and which sounds wonderful in theory, but rarely encountered in the real world.  At least, this was the truth as Barb knew it, based on her own personal experience and observations.  And yet, somehow, here today was.  Despite the weather being flawless with not a single cloud in the sky, the traffic was somehow lighter than usual.  Schedules had been organised in advance, and somehow  no emergencies had emerged and no sudden changes of plans had suddenly popped up.   Bill had organised everything at work to be taken care of, and so far there had not been one single phone call that began with “I know I’m not supposed to bother you, but...”.  The other two wives were taking care of everything on the home front (though Lord knew there would be a thing or two she’d need to quietly put right once she got back).  And that was that.

Though the “special treatment” she was getting for this night and this night only may have put a nose or two out of joint, it was just a simple fact that certain milestone anniversaries just deserved a bit more particular celebration than others.  And, as the longest-married of Bill’s three wives, it stood to reason that she would reach those milestones before the others.  It was simple logic, really.  Besides, it was just dinner at a relatively nice hotel and then an overnight stay there, and back to life as normal come check-out time tomorrow morning.  Hardly the being-whisked-away-to-Paris type event that some were making it out to be.

She stepped out of the car, leaning her head back and filling her lungs with a deep carefree breath of fresh air because she could.  After all, she would never have planned her wedding to coincide with allergy season, now would she?  The air smelled clean and fresh and free of any undesirable pollutants, man-made or natural.  She relished the time of year that she was able to notice things like that without a second thought.

She turned around to watch her husband get out of the driver’s side of the car, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the lightly tinted windows as she did so, and studied herself briefly to see if there was anything that needed adjusting before they went inside.  Of course there wasn’t.  She had worn this black dress many times before, and it still fit perfectly, hugging her curves in all the right places, cut just low enough to hint at her perfectly proportioned breasts without sacrificing her modesty, and yet still comfortable enough to be worn to a meal at which she absolutely planned to enjoy her meal without starving herself like a silly, insecure girl.  Her body was the epitomy of the perfect balance of slenderness and enticing feminine curves, and the older she got the more comfortable she became in her own skin, the resulting confidence just adding to her allure.  Her bountiful chocolate brown curls tumbled about her shoulders, now being teased playfully by the sprightly wind, being picked up slightly before being allowed to spring back into place.  She had no quarrel with the wind today, as it was kind enough to carry no pollen, so she did not begrudge it having its fun with her.

Bill recognised the dress and knew he had seen it many times before, he was no stereotypically dense male.  Yet it never failed to amaze him how she managed to make it look like a completely new garment every time just by changing the accessories.  This time the black was offset by a large chunky red necklace (could be gemstones or artfully cut coloured glass for all he could tell), paired with red gloves, purse, and shoes.  He had mentioned to her a long time ago that he thought red suited both her looks and personality.  He wondered if she remembered that.

He offered her his arm and she accepted, linking her elbow with his.  The small trees around the parking lot swayed gently in the wind as they approached the hotel doors, the transition from uninspiring asphalt to understated luxury marked by the short gleaming shiny bannister framing the short three stairs up to the doors.

“We cordially welcome the Carson-Lennon wedding party.  8 pm in the Juniper Function Room” she read, noticing the ivory sign just inside the door, written in gold ink.

Bill smiled.  “To think that while we’re celebrating our time together, another couple will just be starting out on their journey.”

“Eight pm is quite late for a wedding dinner to be starting.  I really hope it doesn’t mean the rooms are going to be noisy tonight,”  she mused.  She didn’t mean to be finding negatives about the experience, she really didn’t, but she couldn’t help but think-

“Sorry!  Ohmygosh I am so sorry!  This thing is really heavy and it keeps getting away from me.  I am really, really sorry!  Please don’t lodge a complaint!”

Barb did not get to finish thinking about what it was she couldn’t help but think.  The source of the interruption was an extremely contrite and extremely petite young girl, who looked positively petrified that her error was going to cause a disaster of epic proportions.  The girl’s panic was not at all helped by the fact that Barb, with whom she had recently sideswiped with a trolley, was currently transfixed by the sight of said trolley, gazing at it with what looked for all the world like a look of faint horror.

It was not the trolley itself she had an issue with.  Truthfully, it had bumped into her side briefly, and lightly, and it really didn’t bother her at all.  No, it was the contents of the trolley. Countless bouquets of lilies, lovely varieties of pink and yellow, artfully arranged and wrapped in matching cellophane.  They were lovely, and no doubt destined to be centerpiece table arrangements for the esteemed guests of the Carsons and the Lennons but oh dear God they were lilies and she needed them to be as far away from them as possible and fast.

The next moment felt like a lifetime to her.  She could feel her eyes filling up with tears and her sinuses prickling already.  Although at this point the reaction was likely to be purely psychosomatic as exposure to the dreaded allergen had been minimal.  But did it matter if the end result was the same?  Every second she looked at the exposed stamens, covered in their extremely thick and extremely visible yellow powder, she felt the ever increasing urge to sniff.  There was so much of the stuff it was spilling off onto the leaves, some of the bouquets even had it dusting onto the cellophane.  There was just obscene amounts of the stuff, and it was everywhere.  The more she looked at it the more her mind told her that her nose tickled - or maybe it really did, she couldn’t tell anymore - and the urge to sniff grew stronger and more insistent.  But she had to resist.  All it would do was risk drawing more of the stuff deeper into her sensitive nasal passages, deep into her sinuses, and then her fate would be sealed.  Then she really would be having a reaction, nothing all in her mind about it, and there would be no stopping it.

And yet the urge won out.  It was almost like a reflex, as impossible to stop through willpower alone as a heartbeat.  She sniffed, and in her mind she could imagine a swirl of yellow, floating on the wind, making it’s way from the flowers deep into her nose.  That was pure fancy, of course, nothing more than an exaggeration.  But there was no denying that the feeling that resulted was instant and extreme.  It began to burn and she blinked and sniffed repeatedly, each intake of air intensifying the sensations she was feeling.

The young girl noticed the change in Barb’s expression and looked as if she was about to cry.  She felt for sure she had upset her and there was going to be a complaint against her and it would be the first complaint but she was going to lose her job for sure because they were very strict here and she loved this job so much even though it was really hard sometimes like when she had to move stuff that was way too big or heavy for her and-

“It’s...it’s fine, really.  Don’t worry about it.  You just keep doing what you were doing like nothing ever happened,” Barb said, the breathiness and urgency in her voice becoming evident.

“A-are you sure?” The girl stammered.  “You’re not going to make a complaint about me later?  Because if there’s a problem I can...I don’t know, but I can do something to fix it.”

Oh, please just accept the apology and get very, very far away from me, Barb screamed internally.  Of course, she would never voice such a thought.  Thankfully, Bill, having navigated many such situations in their history together, managed to come to her rescue.

“Of course.  No harm, no foul.  Now you go hurry and get where it was you were going so quickly in the first place and don’t let us stand in your way.”  He gave a “shoo” gesture with his hands, delivered with a smile that made it look nothing but purely playful and friendly.

Barb rubbed a slender index finger under her nose, in a bid to stave off the tickly feeling building up inside.  So far it was just a tickle, just an irritation.  She hadn’t reached the point of no return yet, that first desperate gasp for breath that would quickly be followed by another, and another, until her lungs felt unbearably full until finally it all came out at once in a climactic expulsion that, rather than bringing any sort of relief, only ever just ended up causing a chain reaction that was relentless, unstoppable, and somehow self-perpetuating.  But if didn’t cross that threshold, she’d be fine.  Fine, of course, being relative.

That was a big “if” though.  She felt herself teetering on the brink between her tenuous grasp on self control, and tumbling over the edge into a sneezy, watery, allergic mess.  But she wouldn’t give in.  She wouldn’t let her anniversary celebrations be marred.  She would somehow maintain control over the unforgiving irritation of her sensitive nose.  She was close, so very close, to losing control, but she could just about...

Oh dear Lord, was that a matching bouquet of lilies on the front desk?

Bill noticed it too, and once again he came to the rescue, quietly and gently ushering her out of the way so he could approach the desk and ask where the hotel’s restaurant was.  Though she moved out of the way, simply having the offending decoration in her line of sight nearly proved to be too much.  Somehow she couldn’t take her eyes off it, the pink and yellow blooms simply frosted with their yellow powder.  She could almost see the clouds of yellow floating up onto the air, twisting this way and that, making their way slowly toward her.  No, not “see”.  Imagine.  Because she knew it didn’t work that way, and even these prolific pollen producers couldn’t make that much of the stuff.  And there wasn’t even a breeze in here to carry the stuff around like that.

Of course who knew how long ago the bouquet was carried through here.  Perhaps only moments ago, and perhaps some of the pollen still lingered in the air from when it had some through.  Perhaps some of the pollen from the bouquets on the trolley still lingered in the air, shaken loose from when they had been jostled.  And perhaps it floated gently all around them still, like nearly invisible snowflakes, looking for a place to settle.  And perhaps it had already begun to settle...in her hair, on her clothes, maybe her face...maybe on her upper lip, just underneath her nostrils, just waiting for the slightest inhalation to draw them in...

It very nearly happened.  She nearly lost her studied composure. She very nearly took in just the briefest hint of a hitching breath, but managed to catch herself right at the last second.  She reached up to rub her finger underneath her nose again, allowing a small sigh of relief to escape her painted lips as it brought a momentary lull in the urgent irritation, a brief breath of relief.   But brief was all it was, as the sensation returned with renewed intensity, as if it were furious at having been thwarted.  Tears flooded her eyes and threatened to spill over and it was all she could do to keep from reaching up to rub at them.  Just like the urge to sneeze, the promise of relief here was a false one.  Rubbing would cause the need for more rubbing, which would just build upon itself until her eyes were red and sore and so full of tears and irritation that she could barely see.

But it was no matter.  There was no need to worry about that.  They were on their way to the restaurant, where the lingering irritation would be no more than a memory.  And as long as nothing else reared its ugly head, she would be in the clear. 

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To be continued...

[Chanel_no5]

Duuuude, you're ahead of me, so don't apologise!  I should be the one apologising. Sadly, I hadn't counted on spending my writing weekend being wrecked by cramps and unable to focus on much else than finding a yoga-ish position where it doesn't hurt so much.

That being said, this is awesome! You certainly managed to cut it off to make it as torturous as possible for everyone involved, including reader...  

4 hours ago, SleepingPhlox said:

“One of those days where everything just works out”

What is this "works out" thing you speak of?  

4 hours ago, SleepingPhlox said:

Barb did not get to finish thinking about what it was she couldn’t help but think.

Haha!  

5 hours ago, SleepingPhlox said:

Every second she looked at the exposed stamens, covered in their extremely thick and extremely visible yellow powder, she felt the ever increasing urge to sniff.  There was so much of the stuff it was spilling off onto the leaves, some of the bouquets even had it dusting onto the cellophane.  There was just obscene amounts of the stuff, and it was everywhere. 

I love this image.

5 hours ago, SleepingPhlox said:

“Of course.  No harm, no foul.  Now you go hurry and get where it was you were going so quickly in the first place and don’t let us stand in your way.”  He gave a “shoo” gesture with his hands, delivered with a smile that made it look nothing but purely playful and friendly.

Sounds just like Bill!  

5 hours ago, SleepingPhlox said:

She hadn’t reached the point of no return yet, that first desperate gasp for breath that would quickly be followed by another, and another, until her lungs felt unbearably full until finally it all came out at once in a climactic expulsion that, rather than bringing any sort of relief, only ever just ended up causing a chain reaction that was relentless, unstoppable, and somehow self-perpetuating.  But if didn’t cross that threshold, she’d be fine.  Fine, of course, being relative.

That was a big “if” though.  She felt herself teetering on the brink between her tenuous grasp on self control, and tumbling over the edge into a sneezy, watery, allergic mess.  But she wouldn’t give in.

Heh, are you teasing her or me now?  Ohh, the anticipation, I swear to God...!!

5 hours ago, SleepingPhlox said:

But brief was all it was, as the sensation returned with renewed intensity, as if it were furious at having been thwarted.  Tears flooded her eyes and threatened to spill over and it was all she could do to keep from reaching up to rub at them.  Just like the urge to sneeze, the promise of relief here was a false one.  Rubbing would cause the need for more rubbing, which would just build upon itself until her eyes were red and sore and so full of tears and irritation that she could barely see.

Hnnnghhh...!!

4 hours ago, SleepingPhlox said:

And as long as nothing else reared its ugly head, she would be in the clear. 

Why do I have the feeling that poor sweetheart won't be in the clear, hmm...? ^^