bottlesNiquita searched the shelves, wondering who had mixed up the bottles she’d so carefully placed just so on her workbench.

Ninja squirrels. It must have been the ninja squirrels.

The labels were missing from half the bottles in her pantry. It was no way to start their married life; she wanted to prove to Nathan that her cooking was just as good as her elixirs. She was more than an apothecary, she could be a good wife and homemaker too. He would bring home the bacon (after all, he was apprenticed to the butcher) but she would be the one to fry it up in the pan.

She heard a suspicious twitter from the windowsill and turned just in time to catch sight of a fluffy tail escaping via the trellis.

I’ll have to move that trellis. As if that would stop them…

She opened one unlabeled bottle and took a deep whiff. It was the most ordinary smell she could imagine. She etched the glass directly with the words Common Scents.

She sniffed the next unlabeled bottle. Instantly she was aware of every tiny flaw in the otherwise smooth glass. Unfortunately, she was also aware of every scratchy fiber of her dress. She etched that bottle with the words Scentsitivity.

She was about to open the third bottle when a breath of warm air on her ear caused her to jump practically out of her skin. She whirled around to find Nathan grinning at her, and she didn’t even have a chance to dodge before he swooped in for a kiss.

Still fresh from the Scentsitivity, she reeled and would have fainted if her newly wedded husband had not caught her.

“Did your little friends do this to you?” he asked.

“Mmm hnuh?” she answered, gazing into her beloved’s eyes.

Nathan’s eyes twinkled. “The squirrels. The bottles. The labels…see?” he took the bottle from her hands, opened it, and took a whiff.

“Oh…” Niquita said, too late. She inhaled some too.

Nathan stoppered the bottle, then leaned back just enough so that he could look her in the eyes. “You know, Niquita, I’ve been thinking. We both put in a full day’s work, me at the butcher shop and you here at home with the apothecary. You already do all the housekeeping, it only makes sense that I cook our dinner. After all, I can bring home something small from the shop every night.”

Niquita nodded slowly, realizing that her terrible cooking skills need not be inflicted on her husband and their future children after all.

It was perfectly scentsible.

This silly little thing was written for the Write on Edge prompt about the word “elixir” and the sense of smell.

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