𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 • ʳᵒᵇᵉʳᵗ ᶠˡᵒʸᵈ

prologue !

prologue.
[ third. ]
"suck all of the honey from the jar. lick all the sweetness from every crevice of your life. stay tender, malleable, soft." - evie farnan.

"678-999-8212 !"

in the car of jasmine levitt, she held onto the steering wheel with her two right fingers and had her left arm resting on the open window, cruising down the driveway with her windows down as she yelled alone to her radio at max volume.

the wind flew through her braids and the rings and friendship bracelets on her hands jingled together as she moved her hand to the music.

our protagonist.

jasmine levitt was heading down to her old bar, the hard deck, where it had been announced a special detachment was going to take place at top gun; and little lady jasmine was instructed to be there.

she remembered riding down these exact same roads in the backseat, watching her parents fight for the gazillionth time that day on some petty little thing. it always got to her back then.

jasmine was now a naval aviator, and one of the best out there. a top gun graduate. the mission? no idea. but, she was lt. jasmine 'honey' levitt, and at your service. her parents always fought over what jasmine should've been when she was older, an architect, a nurse, a lawyer. but, what they didn't care to see was that jasmine never really paid attention to that. she always wanted to be a pilot, up in the sky.

...yes, she was an adrenaline junkie.

jasmine's parents ended up divorcing the moment she graduated middle school, and that's when she felt that she could finally breathe. no more taking sides, no more crying in her room late at night as she listened to her parents screams, no more thinking it was her fault. she could be happy. and she was. her future was the second brightest thing compared to her personality.

the song changed as she entered the city of san diego, and she smiled, acknowledging that she was minutes away from home. she reached for the spoon that rested in a raw honey jar and took a scoop, taking a bite.

that's how she got her nickname.

since she was young, jasmine loved eating honey straight from the jar. she even volunteered at a beehive sanctuary when she was a teen. during naval academy and on, you could always find jasmine at breakfast walking around with a honey jar in her hand, taking spoonfuls of the natural food.

it did wonders for you, anyway, with anti-inflammatory elements, helps with glowy skin, and was even a probiotic.

jasmine's tan skin glistened in the sun, her long eyelashes and brown doe eyes able to see with her long braids flowing behind her. she wore a pink tank top under her tan-colored uniform dress that was currently unbuttoned with denim shorts, showing off all her tattoos up and down her arms and stomach.

the moment she walked into the hard deck, the local bar, she knew the only thing that would keep her standing out were her braids and tattoos.

she quickly turned down the volume as she turned onto base, beginning to button up her dress with one hand, both hands when she knew where she was going. this was always her case.

arriving shortly at the office booth, jasmine encountered a man. "name and ID?" the man said. she looked over her car, her bags in the back and her wallet in the small compartment between the driver and passenger seat. she handed him her drivers license, "lt. jasmine levitt." he quickly typed up the name onto his computer before handing back her license.