Black Honey: Pt. 2
Summary: Starfire and Robin are officially an item, but what does that mean when the resident empath is stuck living between their respective bedrooms? Finding a new bunk buddy in Beast Boy was certainly not her first choice, and when she engages in a strange, night time activity, how long before the changeling notices what she’s up to?
didn’t drink. Alcohol had a putrid flavor, and she could never fathom how
anyone could enjoy tormenting themselves in such a way. It was an assault on
one’s taste buds, with a nasty after taste just for good measure. A back wash
of lingering poison might have fared better and, if it didn’t, you’d be dead
before it hit you. Alcohol was a whole different concept; it was intoxicating
and, after some time, the pungency itself didn’t matter anymore. Only the buzz,
the illusion of freedom of one’s spirit from the chains of the body, the
feeling of being on something called a ‘cloud nine’, was all that was important
in the moment.
Raven didn’t drink, but she was starting to understand what it might have been like.
It wasn’t always about the bitter after taste, or the tang of sugary sweetness that left the mouth still somewhat parched. Alcohol was never about the actual alcohol; it was everything to do with indulgence. Like a fine wine, crisp and smooth and oh so alluring in it’s pristine bottle or poured in a glass, there was something about it that made an individual lick their lips in anticipation, in wanting. Even liquor stores embellished the beautification of alcohol; whether it was the intricate design of the glass bottles they came in, or the artistry in the labels, there was a richness to spirits that reeled in those mature enough to understand and truly enjoy its appeal.
As Raven lay in a bed that was not her own, and gazed across at the peaceful face before her, she would agree that everything could be a form of art, even something she’d typically not appreciate…
[MORE UNDER THE CUT]