Prelude
Like honey, the thought of him stuck to you until you washed him off. Watching the warm water run as you frantically scrub at your skin. The flavour, with its talons already hooked under your skin, had you back again; ready to reach down into the hive and bear the fury of stings. To admire the welts adorning your hands like rubies and garnets.
If only she liked honey, then she would've turned a blind eye to the swarms of yellowjackets that plagued her.
The golden substance stuck to her tongue, numbing her senses as it slowly dripped down the back of her throat. It filled her mouth with a disgusting foreign taste. Repulsive in nature, the golden glow did nothing to soothe the bitterness that followed.
He was honey.
