Honey Springfield was called the Handlers 'favourite' - a nickname she despised right down to the bones of her very existence - almost as much as she despised the woman herself. No one ever looked closer enough to realise that it was given to her fo...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The door clicking open downstairs made Honey jolt out of her sleep. She was in a panic until she realised it was Diego she could hear, along with Lila, arguing about his injury and how his bandages needed changing and something about her having no bedside manner.
Honey quickly smoothed out her expression, releasing a shaky breath to unwind her tense muscles and her white knuckled grip on the arm of the sofa.
When the two caught sight of Honey curled up like a cat on the sofa, there was a brief pause in their conversation - Lila looked right at her and she wondered if the woman was waiting for an apology for knocking her on her back.
It may have been the socially acceptable thing to do, but Honey was not good at anything remotely socially normal, and so remained silent and averted her gaze.
"Where's Five?" Diego asked casually, as though nothing had changed since the last time they met.
Honey swallowed thickly, glancing over at the clock. "Gone to find Vanya."
"What, he found her?" His eyebrows rlse as he stiffly covered his aching side.
She hummed and nodded, chewing on her sleeve as Lila walked past the sofa to grab her denim jacket sprawled over the opposite side to her.
It was then that the faint scent of lavender hit Honey again, and she was sure now that it was not some sick twisted part of her imagination making it up.
As Diego and Lila chatted about the consulate later that evening and the dress code, Honey found herself feeling horrifically out of place and wishing Five would return.
Periodically her eyes flickered up to the clock between watching the two argue and banter back and forth as though unbothered by the fact she was there. Subtly, her sleeve bundled over her hand covered her mouth and she buried her nose into the fabric, trying not to look like something was bothering her.
Her eyes fixed on the woman as she mentioned something about getting a dress, unable to keep herself from delving into her paranoia and knowing that deep down, it was probably just as such. Stupid paranoia. But she could not stop it from taking over her mind as it had done the last six months and she hated herself for it, because Lila was probably a lovely woman. (With poor perfume choices.)
There were noises of pottering about behind the sofa that led to the kitchen, and it wasn't until the smell of strong, black coffee hit her senses that she realised Five had returned and she had zoned out.
"So, what, you just let her go?"
Honey shifted and watched Five take a seat opposite her, coffee in hand.
"Well, Vanya had a lot to process," he excused. "She'll come around. I know she will."
She could see the sheen across his eyes from where she sat, a damp bit of hope barely visible.
