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You had an awful tendency to chew your lips. Many would praise it as a cute trait, or perhaps even seductive, but that was only in the moment they got to see it. It left bitter effects in it’s wake. Your lips were often chapped, and on the days where you really chewed at them they were left swollen, and sometimes even bleeding. Your hands only seemed to worsen your state, picking at the dried skin of your lips. There was hardly a day when your lips didn’t bleed.
At first, Muriel didn’t seem to take kindly to your lip biting. He’d practically wilt every time he did but when he had grown to understand you and your habits a little more, he absolutely loathed it, if only because it caused you to bleed.
“You’re chewing your lip again.” He said, with the scolding tone of a mother. He sighed as you sent him an apologetic glance which only furthered the likeness. “Your lips will be bleeding again.”
There was a pause, his own lips twisting into a thin line as they often did when he was debating an action, or on occasion doubting himself. You preferred him to speak his mind during these times, if only to ensure he wasn’t spiralling into self-deprecation.
“Muriel?”
His eyes flickered to you, then to your lips, and finally the ground. He stepped away, looking for something amidst your shelves, a decision already made. He pushed jars aside from where they sat in their shelves, until he found the one he was looking for. Golden and gently aglow in the light, Muriel returned with a jar of honey. You must have looked confused, because Muriel’s face turned red as he tried to explain.
“You’ve been biting your lips a lot, and it looked like it hurt. Nadia mentioned that honey is something that can soothe it……”
You felt your own face warm at the sentiment. Always looking out for you, Muriel’s kindness never failed to make you smile. You reached for the jar, and Muriel pulled it from your reach. Your smile faltered, and you fell back into confusion while Muriel turned an even brighter shade of red.
“I’ll.…can I…….” Muriel paused taking a deep breath. He tried to meet your eyes, but his gaze fell to your lips instead. “You’d just pick at your lips if you did it….”
Perhaps out of habit, or perhaps to tease, you bit your lip, and Muriel’s hand flew to your mouth. He cupped your cheek with all the tenderness you’ve grown to expect from him, and with the calloused pad of his thumb he rubbed your lip easing it from the supposed wrath of your teeth. He was breathless for a few moments, but when you refused to budge, he let out a strangled sigh.
“Don’t.” A pause. Then, “please.”
You were inclined to listen. He spent a few moments, rubbing your chapped lips his brow furrowing in concern as he brushed against soft tender skin then against dryness. It was as if he was stealing your breath away, little by little with every brush of his thumb. You couldn’t breathe. You didn’t dare. If you did he could pull away, and brush off the matter without giving you a proper chance to reply. You had to reply first.
You forced a breath and he flinched back, but you needed air to speak. To reply. Just to make sure, you brought your hand to his wrist, guiding him back to you, and letting you lean against his touch.
“You can.” He looked confused. “You can apply the honey to my lips.”
Muriel smiled, although red-faced, and hesitant to break from your hold. Grabbing a spoon he scooped a little bit of the honey from the jar, taking care that he wouldn’t leave a trail on the jar and lure any insects inside to tamper with your golden supply. From the spoon he scooped up a little onto his fingers and applied a thin layer to your lips. Again you could feel yourself run out of air, but this time, as you forced a breath, Muriel did not flee. He took care to massage the honey into every sore spot he could get to, but it took some restraint on your part not to lick the sweetness from your lips, or suck it from his fingers. The latter was an incredibly appealing option.
As if he had heard your thoughts, Muriel retreated, pulling back with a flushed face, the same kind he’d usually make after a loving kiss. Only you hadn’t kissed. Not yet that is.
“I… Nadia said that you should leave it on for as long as you can, so… don't… don’t lick it off…”
You grabbed his shirt, not harshly, but enough to keep him from retreating. You tugged at him, gentle but insistent, and leaned towards him. He got the message in an instant, but he still hesitated before he leaned in. The kiss was sticky, but sweet and warm all together. You understood now how your books so often linked honey to an ambrosia, and why the ingredient was so often used in magic concerning love. Tasting it as it rubbed off onto his lips it may as well have been an aphrodisiac.
You broke away from the kiss to see him. Face flushed a bright red, his tongue darted from his lips to lick at the honey you had left there. A careful sweep that had you longing for another kiss. You almost bit your lip simply watching him.
“Didn’t you say not to lick it off?”
He glared, at least, as much as he could around his flustered state, and the half smile that tempted you to bite either your own lip or his.
“You ruined yours first.” He muttered, as he collected the spoon again. There was a little honey still left on it. Enough surely to coat your lips again.
This time, if you couldn’t lick it from your lips, you’d definitely suck it from his fingers.