Hello all. This is set several months into the future after the nanowrimo story, but you definitely do not need to read the entire thing, or any of it at all. I have the first four chapters already written, but I decided I'll post bit by bit, and perhaps edit a little. I hope you like it :D

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I couldn't, for the life of me, find the honey. If it wasn't in the cabinets and Noah didn't throw it in the fridge like an asshole, then it has to be hidden in the piano or something, because I could not find it. I checked the cabinets again for the seventh time, rummaging through each level, pushing aside canned goods and rotting fruit at a lightening pace, making me knock a couple of things over. As I was putting a can of yams back in its place, I heard Noah's socks slip onto the kitchen floor.

"What are you looking for?" He asked, peering into the cabinet. I quickly straightened myself up and closed the cabinet door, glowering at him involuntarily. He backed away quietly and dropped onto a chair. "What are you looking for?" he repeated, as if I didn't hear him the first time.

I ran my hand through my hair and sighed, my shoulders shuddering, and I tried to release some of my stress by squeezing my palms. It wasn't working. "Honey," I said.

"Yeah?" He responded automatically. Sometimes I wanted to punch him.

"I can't find it, the honey," I repeated, and Noah did his stupid "Ohhhh," thing and nodded like he knew exactly what I was going through, which he didn't. I banged my fist against the oven. Everything inside it rattled.

Noah scratched his head, acting as if he was actually thinking about where the honey could possibly be. I knew it was around here somewhere, and I searched through each of the drawers again, in the fridge and in the freezer. Nothing. No chilled honey, no frozen honey. No honey at all. I need honey to glaze the turkey, or else the turkey would turn out like shit. And I couldn't take another night of Noah wincing whenever he put the food I cooked into his mouth. He never liked anything I made.

I heard Noah call me from the other side of the kitchen. I calmed my expression and turned toward him, my mouth in a frown. He smiled and asked me playfully why I wasn't wearing my apron. I picked up a knife sitting on the counter and pointed it toward his head, aiming it so if I threw it it would hit him between the eyes. "Out," I said quietly, trying to control my temper. I didn't feel like exploding today.

"Come on Adam," he grinned. "I bought it so you could wear it," his smug expression pissed me off. I didn't want to deal with this. I needed the honey. I wanted the honey, not Noah's stupid fucking sexual passes. I was not in the mood. "Where is it?" he murmured to himself, getting up from the chair and reaching toward a drawer. "It has to be here somewhere…"

I hated it when he didn't listen to me. Why didn't he ever listen to me? It was a simple ultimatum – leave the kitchen, or I will stab you. I threw the knife on the floor, and the sound it made echoed in my ears, the sound of cold metal hitting the floor. "Out," I screamed. "Out, Noah!"

Noah looked at me like a betrayed puppy dog. I didn't feel anything toward his sadness, I didn't care whether or not he was feeling betrayed or loved. I wanted him out. Actually, no. I didn't want to go and search for the honey anymore, it was making me too angry. I stormed out of the kitchen, shoving past Noah, and I retrieved my keys from the table sitting by the door. I could feel his eyes on me as he watched me leave.

I marched toward my car and, glancing toward the large window in the front of the house, I saw Noah still in the kitchen, frowning at me. He saw me looking at him and he took his finger and ran it down his face, from his eye to his chin. I quickly turned away, my face flushed and my feet wet with mud. It was raining, and he was being an asshole.

I dropped into the drivers seat and turned on the ignition, and I backed up and onto the street. I felt calmer now that I was in the car, more like I would be alone and I wouldn't have anybody's boyfriend to annoy me to death. I sighed. Peace at last.

I had to go to the supermarket to buy honey, or I was going to drive myself crazy. I knew that the honey was in the house somewhere, but unless Noah had used it for something, I had either misplaced it or used it myself and forgotten about it. Or some squirrel had eaten it, or maybe I had thrown it out mistakenly. Who the fuck knows?

The roads were wet and dots of water were sprinkled across my shirt. It was wool, and clinging at my skin, and I took my hands off the driving wheel every now and then to itch myself. I hated this sweater. I hated this weather. I hated everything.

Trying not to talk to myself and mutter angrily like an cranky old man, I kept myself calm, trying to slow my heart rate. I gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning it left and right and trying to keep the car going at a steady pace. I tried to drive carefully because it was raining quite heavily, and the roads were wet. As it was starting to get dark, I turned on my headlights like all the other cars. I felt a little bit safer. I didn't like driving in the rain.

But I did like the rain in general. It made everything so much clearer. The trees and the grass were greener and the sky was bluer and the clouds were more visible. It completely obstructed my windows though, as they were incredibly tinted and I couldn't see a thing. My windshield wipers were on, but they remained foggy. I didn't want to risk anything. I pulled over to the side.

I put my head in my hands, my chest heaving. I could feel that my face and hands were clammy, and when I looked in the mirror my pupils were huge, and my face was paler than normal. I swallowed. My stomach felt empty. I wanted to fall asleep.

It was probably just the rain. I would always get really nervous when I went to drive in it, and usually Noah drove, even though I barely approved of that. He knew that I usually liked to refrain from driving in the rain, but he didn't give a shit. He did what he damned well pleased. And I knew that he had the right to do what he damn well pleased, but I would always worry about him whenever he went out.

He was the one who originally bought the honey at the store. I remember I sent him out with a shopping list, which he usually follows, and he brought it in, kicking the door open and dropping the bags of food on the floor with a dramatic sigh. I felt bad for a moment, but then I remembered the bags could only possibly contain three or four pounds, and that he was just being an asshole. But I went out to help him anyway.

It was raining that day too – it's been raining a lot recently, and it was on a horrible day like this one. The sky was strewn with dark clouds, and our lawn was flooded with mud, and I wanted to scream my head off at Noah when he tracked mud all over the rugs. I spent the rest of the day cleaning. Noah kept calling me his wife.

The store that he went to was about twenty minutes away, and I kept estimating the time of his trip. It would take forty minutes for traveling, I calculated, and a maximum of thirty minutes to go shopping. And so I was pacing all over the house, up and down, not able to do anything except sit on the couch and tap my feet incessantly, to the point where Lemons came over and placed her paw on my sock. I kicked her hand away lightly and continued tapping. She seemed annoyed. I didn't care.

I had sat there for nearly three hours before Noah finally stepped through the door. I pretended I had occupied myself with other things while he was gone, but the truth was I almost cried when the car had pulled into the driveway, the headlights beaming at me through the foggy rain. I wanted to hug and kiss him and scream and tell him how much I missed him. But I didn't, because I knew it would make his ego swell and I would regret it.

We both had to trudge through the mud to obtain the groceries, which I saw were from various stores. I asked him why he had gone to so many places, and he said that he also wanted to pick up a couple of things. He put a lot of the bags inside the car instead of in the trunk, but he would only let me carry in the ones in from the trunk. When they were all finished I went to put away the ones in the car, but he pressed his hand against my chest and firmly told me, "No, I'll take them in, Adam. You go play the piano or light a candle or something," which made me flush and stamp away, which I could tell was what he wanted.

Noah's jabs at my effeminacy didn't really harm my self-esteem, but it did make me feel inferior to him at points. I mean, I did play the piano and I did like candles and I did have more female friends than male friends, and he would always wonder aloud how I could possibly harbor any feelings for any kind of girl. And I would tell him that he was a jackass and he would laugh. The moment I had started to really get to know Noah, he had become more rude and obnoxious. But he had assumed that I would accept it and I wouldn't reject his personality. He was correct; I adored Noah. And he took full advantage of that.

I felt dizzy when I thought of him. It wasn't that I was completely smitten with him, it was because he was so confusing. But I felt dizzy anyway, simply because I was feeling lightheaded. I failed biology, so I didn't bother to check my pulse, but my heart rate had slowed very quickly. I didn't have a timer so I didn't bother to count, but it was going very slow. Very… very slow. And it worried me.

The air in my car was muggy and warm, and to be honest I hated warm and muggy atmospheres. They always felt suffocating, and I felt like the air was wrapping itself around my neck like a cord, and I could pull at it all I wanted but it would remain tight and choke me until I passed out. When air was as muggy as this I didn't like it because it was impossible to escape it, unless you left it. But outside was probably just worse, so I only rolled down the window just a little bit. But it didn't help, so I rolled it back up. Who knew if somebody with a gun would wander by, pull down the window with his abnormally large hands and shoot me in the head? It was very likely, and I wasn't going to risk it.

My cell phone rang. I glanced at it, saw Noah's name, and swallowed. I wasn't nervous to talk to him, I was just nervous and general. My hands felt dry and cracked when I flipped open the phone, and I heard Noah worriedly calling my name on the other line. He asked where I was and if I was alright. I told him I was just going to pick up some honey.

"You didn't tell me where you were going before you left," he said, and I smiled. I liked it when he got worried. "You have to tell me where you're going Adam, I don't like worrying over you." I smiled wider. It was so gratifying when he finally expressed how he felt, even if it was this negative kind of emotion.

I muttered an apology. Noah grunted on the other end, like he didn't seem satisfied with it. I didn't give a shit. "I'll be home in like, a half hour," I assured him. Noah told me alright, and that he wanted to see me in a half hour or he was going to flip out. I forced a laugh and hung up.

I drove along the grass for a while before turning onto the street, feeling a bit more able to drive, and calmer than I was before. I felt better now that Noah knew where I was, and that I wouldn't have to worry about him worrying. But he was like me. He would worry.

We usually go to the store together, but we have refrained from doing that recently because we always argue about what to get. This is too expensive, this is too unhealthy, and this is too heavy, why would you want to eat this? And we would throw insults and raise our voices and people would give us strange looks. I hated people.

I arrived at the store within due time, and I pulled into the parking lot, the rain sliding against my tires and splashing on the windshield. I stepped out into the harsh weather, and frowned when I realized I forgot my jacket. I shoved the keys in my pocket after locking my car, and I clutched both of my arms as I wandered toward the front of the store. It was a pretty large shopping center from my standards, with several shops aligning it, all in a bland white color. A lot of things seemed to be very bland these days.

My hands felt numb when my fingers curled around the handle of a shopping cart, but my entire body warmed once I stepped inside. I shuffled toward the fruit aisle and spent a couple of minutes slowly taking my time passing each item, deciding whether or not we needed bananas or strawberries, or peaches. But then I remembered I was on a mission. I needed honey.

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Since it's already written, I don't have… a cliffhanger to offer you unless I was to make the chapter 1000 words longer, and nobody wants that. So don't go anywhere, please! I promise it will get more interesting :3 You'll review, yes?