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September 3 - September 7, 2025
“You remind me of honeysuckle. Nectar sweet as honey, like the sound of your voice. But the berries are deceiving—poisonous if consumed.” He shrugs playfully. “Beautiful and deadly.”
I think he’s always known when he kisses me, when he holds my hand, when he tells me he loves me—he knows I’ll never return those sentiments in the same way, that I’m not capable of that anymore.
It’s like you know you existed before you found it—that thing, but you don’t know how you lived before it. You suddenly can’t imagine yourself being whole without it.
“Leo,” she breathes. “Stop looking at me like that.” “Looking at you like what, Honeysuckle?” “Like you know exactly what my soul feels like, and you’ve been incomplete without it all this time.” I do. I have.
“Darby, you have control over your body, remember? You can eat whatever you want, whenever you want to. I understand your mom might be trying to instill a sense of importance over your health, but she’s going about it the wrong way. Eat healthy because you want to be strong and live a long time, not because you should give one single fuck about how soft your belly is. That’s ridiculous.”
“When you tell me you love me for the first time, Honeysuckle, I want you to look me in the eye. I don’t want to ever hear the word maybe in that sentence either. When you say that to me, I want you to mean it.”
“You’re kind. You’re brave and smart. You’re a hard worker, you’re empathetic, and you care deeply for those in your life. You’ve made me brave. You’ve given me safety, protection, and comfort I’ve never felt before. You’ve made me feel alive for the first time in my life, Leo. That’s something she’d be proud of.”
“You’ve changed me, too, Honeysuckle. You’ve made me understand what it feels like to be found. Seen. Heard. Valued. You make me believe in myself in a way I’ve never had before. You make me feel like I’m worth something.”
“You don’t need a piece of my soul, Honeysuckle. You already own the whole goddamn thing.”
“Stop looking at me like that,” he whispers. “Like what?” “Like I own all the pieces of your soul. Like you’ve been incomplete all this time without them.”
After ten years of drought, my soul is experiencing its first rainfall,
I think the best version of me is the one who belongs to Leo Graham.
She’s the source of warmth for my incandescent soul.
she’s always looked at me like I’m enough for just simply being me, not for what I can provide her.
Honeysuckle, we are infinite. We are destined. Written in the stars. Proof of the divine. We’re meant to be.
“Cheetos?” He shrugs. “You love Cheetos.”
“Always, Darby,” he says. “Always,”
“I don’t know why it still hurts so much, why I feel so broken over losing something I never really had.”
“I’ll write you a love letter every day for the rest of my life if you just come home, Honeysuckle. Stay with me.”
“Welcome home, honeysuckle.”
Two lost souls find their way home.
