sweet like honey | taylor swift

The bell signaled their arrival on the first floor, and they broke apart simultaneously as the doors yawned open.

As Dorothea turned towards the lobby, she felt a familiar hand grab her arm.

Taylor's lips, still a deep, even shade of red, formed into a smile. "I think I might have forgotten something."

Dorothea pressed her lips together as she glanced towards the empty lobby. It hadn't even been thirty seconds, yet the taste of her lipstick had been replaced by an overpowering one, so sweet that it made her teeth ache. It tasted like something that might screw her up forever.

She stepped back into the elevator, not meeting the other woman's eyes. As the doors sealed shut, silence roared into her ears, and suddenly, thoughts were slicing across her mind like wind through chimes.

Taylor closed the gap between them, but she was pointing at the buttons on the wall. "So, which floor do you think it's on?"

Her throat felt like sandpaper as she swallowed. Less than ten minutes ago, she had been sipping a lukewarm cup of chai as she stared into the abyss of her inbox, wondering if her marriage was on the verge of collapsing. But perhaps that wasn't the thing to be thinking about while in the confines of such a small space.

"Nineteen," she said finally.

The button illuminated underneath Taylor's finger, and then the cab rose. She stepped towards her, but Dorothea backed up against the wall. "Why are you doing this?" she asked.

Taylor's smile faded. "Why are you doing this?"

"I'm not doing anything," she replied as she crossed her arms. "You're the one who cornered me in the elevator."

Taylor laughed. "Well, that sounds familiar."

"At least I didn't trip over a mop bucket," she said. She pushed off the wall and closed the gap between them. "So, about that non-disclosure agreement..."

"Wow. That's really bothering you, isn't it?" Taylor purred. Her full lips fell into an exaggerated frown as she ran her fingertips along the neckline of Dorothea's blouse. "It's just a few pieces of paper, Thea. It's not gonna bite you!"

The bell chimed and Dorothea stepped around her into the vacant shell of a space. Exposed steel framing created a maze of transparent spaces, and ductwork and wires hung from the ceiling like tree canopies. The concrete floors were littered with scraps of plywood and nails and the air smelled like chemicals.

She turned over her shoulder to see Taylor still standing in the elevator, then grinned. "What's the matter? Not the king bed and rose petals you were expecting?"

Taylor took a tentative step into the space. "You took me to the one floor we could get caught trespassing on."

"Oh, sorry, I just assumed you wanted to fuck me in private like it says on those pieces of paper,"

Taylor slowly turned towards her. When her blue eyes appeared, they were glowing in the fluorescent light. "Sounds like you're interested."

Dorothea folded her arms across her chest as she tried not to stare at the woman's hideous dress. She couldn't possibly take her seriously while committing such a crime against fashion, let alone think about contractual sex. She snorted with laughter. "I'm not signing anything."

"Fine." Taylor shrugged, turning towards the elevator. "Then I guess there's nothing left but to go our separate ways."

Dorothea opened her mouth, then froze. Seconds later, the elevator dinged and she launched forward. "Wait!"