That little wooden box held the secrets of sunlight.
Sitting there so innocuously on the bench, lid poised half-open, deep red peeking through, catching the stark light and scents radiating through the tiny mess. Such a small thing, but so important, so bubbling with delight and beauty and sharp sweetness of colour.
Everything seemed livelier with something so fresh and natural nearby; Kaylee thought the ship smelled sweeter (sweeter than grease, even, sweeter than her girl usually smelled – scents colliding, passion and nature and heady rushes), and the taste...
The taste was like happiness on the tongue, pure explosive richness.