The memory left a sour taste in one's mouth.
((since you didn’t specify, i just hopped on the first idea that came into my head?? its an OC thing i hope thats okay ;;;;;;))
((send me more!))
She could feel her hands trembling, too; she spit, hoping that would rid the taste–and somehow, the memory too–from her tongue. Instead, she tasted metal, and her mind flashed with images of times she’d rather forget. The fights that ended a little too harshly but were never really resolved, the friendly punches that left bruises the next day, the way the word “sister” felt like a whip in her back when it should have felt like sun rays she could bask in. Funny, almost, how clear it was to her now that the two sensations were so… different.
Kris stood, making sure she had her phone and her keys before shouting that she was going out. Someone would hear her.
The door clicked behind her and she ran off into the night. She just needed something to wash out the taste. Anything.