I didn't sleep. How could I? I was receiving threats from a murderer. Someone who hated me. Someone who used to love me, the most dangerous kind of hate. Someone I might still love.
It wasn't just her love that was poison. She was poison.
Many species, especially in the tropics, are poisonous. And many of them use bright colors to tell predators that they're poisonous, warning them away. She was definitely bright. I'd compared her to a supernova, the brightest thing of all, but some sort of poisonous animal might be more apt. She was bright and colorful and beautiful. And like an idiot, I ignored the way her bright colors warned me, and I took a bite.
But I wasn't a predator. I was the prey.