You had been friends with Snoop your whole life, you were on of the few people who could keep up with him on the ball court. As children the two of you were inseparable, getting into trouble, riding your biked recklessly and hooping with the older kids on the block.
Snoop had chased his rap dreams, and that small mic took him far. He showcased his talents to the world, soon taking the rap game by storm, making his friends, family and city proud. Snoop hadn't forgotten about you neither, he invited you to shows, flying you out to whatever city he was in. You appreciated him and all that he's done for you, but just being his best friend was enough, you didn't need all the shoes, purses and jewelry.
You sat on the couch in the hotel room Snoop had booked, flipping through the Tv channels. You jogged towards your knocking door, swinging it open. Snoop stood there in a pair of shorts and wifebeater while he was undoing his braids. "How was the show?" You asked. "Fuck my everything hurts." He laughed sheepishly, you moved out the way, giving him space to step in. He brushed past you just enough to catch a whiff of his cologne mixed with weed.
You shut the door, watching as he walked into your living room. You already had all the hair products sprawled all over your table, ready to do his hair. You brushed past him, though you didn't see it he had slightly leaned towards your touch, taking comfort in your presence. Sometimes it felt like he could only be himself around you.
"Alright!" You sighed, collapsing onto the couch. "Sit." You gestured. Snoop crouched down taking a seat between your thighs, his shoulders flexed when he crossed his arms around his knees. Even sitting down he was taller than you. "You been in here all day? None of those niggas bothering you are they?" He asked, raising his head, your small hands adjusting the sides of his head in place. "No, they haven't. And I went out to eat and took a walk." You giggled. "What'd you do?" You asked. You combed through his hair as you detangled it, applying oils as you went. "I finished up my show, went shopping for a bit. I saw this purse you might like, I'll take you by there later." He muttered. "Or if you wanted shoes we can get those too." He added. You smiled fondly, toying with his locks. You've always admired Snoops hair, so long and healthy. Sometimes you wished he wore it out in a fro, it looked like a crown on him. But he can't take care of his hair to save his own life.
He shut his eyes, his arms wrapped around his knees. He relaxed under your touch, sighing lowly when you'd rake your fingers through his thick hair, tugging slightly at his roots when you'd twist his hair up. With his eyes shut he was picturing different things in his mind, imagining different ways you'd pull his hair to release tension. He bit his lip at the mental image, sighing under his breath. Snoop would never admit it, but he only came to get his hair done so frequently because it was the only way you'd touch him the way he wanted.
