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not an ask or anything, I just wanna say I’m OBSESSED with your series ‘The One With Whiskey Eyes’. The story line, the characters, the writing in general is so captivating! Keep doing your thing!

❤️❤️❤️ Thank you! All the love! 🫶

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The One With Whiskey Eyes || 29 || Sentimental Value

Warnings: None

Words: 2700

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~29~

Barry entered her apartment with the spicy scent of takeout following in his wake, as well as the lingering chill that seemed to bleed from his coat. Even with his hands full, he still greeted her with a kiss on the cheek when she stepped aside to let him in. He placed the food in her kitchen while she locked up behind him.

“How was the time at the station?” he asked once she’d finished her double-check routine. “I wanted to ask you earlier, but everyone was around-”

Iris smiled in assurance and stepped forward to place a hand on his forearm. “Don’t worry about that. It was…long. I never thought I’d have to pull up every detail of my past like that. I’ve spent so long trying to just push it aside, forget about it, I’m surprised how easily it all came back.” She found herself staring absently toward her fridge as she was speaking, remembering the details she’d penned out for the police to use.

Barry came forward to wrap an arm around her shoulders, drawing her in until she was securely tucked into his side. “Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve brought it up.”

Iris shook her head before she turned it, leaning her forehead against his chest as she wrapped an arm around his back. “It gets easier each time, but it’s still such a raw feeling. It was a bit easier when I went last time and Felicia was there, even just to know that someone was there waiting for me.”

His hand, so large against her back, soothingly stroked up and down. Warm and comforting. Safe and secure. She leaned her weight in against him just a bit more, taking in the faded scent of cologne and sweat. It almost drowned out the scent of the food he’d brought, but the spicy aroma was beginning to permeate her small apartment.

It made her stomach clench with hunger.

Pulling back enough to remain pressed bodily against him but to finally look him in the eye, Iris gave a soothing smile. “Let’s eat. Enough about police and crazy pasts.”

Barry’s smile was bright and welcoming. “Yes, Ma’am.”

She collected plates and cups for each of them while he pulled the Styrofoam takeaway containers from the bags he’d brought in. He explained what each dish was as he opened it, warning her which ones were spicy and others sweeter and nuttier. He watched in amusement as she carefully leaned over each of the dishes, smelling them.

He’d gotten way more than the two of them needed, but he wanted to give her the chance to try as many in one go as he could. The lady that had taken his purchase had been more than kind, patiently ringing through everything as he’d stood there staring at the menu. His co-worker had been helpful, actually, and recommended ones that his own girlfriend favoured. Although, she apparently liked her food hot enough to sweat out Satan.

He wasn’t going to tell Iris that.

Iris took a bit of everything, unable to resist wanting to try a bit of each selection, and they had soon moved to sit on her bed—as had become their routine—with their meals sitting on pillows in their laps. Deciding it was safest to use forks instead of the provided chopsticks, they fell into easy conversation about their day as Barry watched Iris’s reactions with each attempt.

“I don’t mind a bit of spice, but that one’s more than I think I can handle,” she commented after trying one of the noddle dishes, reaching for her water to try and dull the sting a bit. Barry laughed before he scooped the remainder of the spicey noodles off of her plate and onto his. Iris just gave him a small, but grateful smile as she continued to sip from her water.

“So, is there anything you don’t like, for future reference? Aside from the spicier variety.”

“Uhm, sushi’s not really my thing, not much for fish in general but anything raw is definitely a no. I don’t have any allergies, that I know of. I hate the taste of milk just on its own, and I’m not a huge fan of sour foods. I am open to at least trying new things once, though.” Iris ducked down to her plate as she took another forkful of noodles, this time one of the sweeter ones, and made a soft humming sound of satisfaction as she chewed. He smiled at the reaction, glad that even just one dish was a win.

He forced his focus away before she caught him watching her tongue swipe the sauce from her finger.

Barry nodded along as she spoke, remembering the conversations they’d had the morning after he had first slept over regarding their coffee preferences and blueberries vs chocolate.

“What about you? Any major culinary dos and don’ts I should know about?”

By the time Barry had finished recounting his meal preferences, which were actually quite similar to hers with the exception of liking spice and loving a glass of milk, they had finished their meal and the plates were sitting in a careful stack at the foot of the bed.

When Barry asked her what book she’d been reading when he called, she gasped suddenly and jumped up from the bed. He jolted slightly at her abrupt movement, the curls of her hair swinging behind her as she scrambled up, and watched as she rushed over to the small collection of books he’d once inspected. She grabbed one sitting right on top of all the others, a bookmark poking out of the top, but also grabbed a plastic bag with her work’s logo on the front.

She deposited the book and the bag onto the bed before picking up their discarded dishes and quickly dumping them in the sink already filled with soapy water. Barry quickly read the title of the book she had, The Martian staring up at him, before she rejoined him. She bounced slightly as she jumped up onto the bed and quickly crossed her legs.

He had taken to stretching out across her bed once they’d finished eating, leaning up on one elbow while his shin nearly brushed her knee.

When Iris reclaimed her spot, her hand fell to rest on his knee for balance and the area bloomed with warmth upon contact. Something so small was able to make his skin flush with the knowledge that she was touching him.

It was simple and casual, but it was something that she would not have done unless she was truly growing comfortable in his presence. Butterflies erupted in his belly at the knowledge; the implication. His love for her grew just a little more in that moment, settling in his core like a familiar, weighted comfort.

“Here,” she declared, offering him the bag. It gave off a distinct rattling sound, like a spray-paint can. “I got this for you. I wanted to thank you for dropping everything to come and get me after the incident at work. I know it was stressful for you as well, and you helped me so much. So, thank you.”

She blushed as she said it, bashful and shy, but anxiously waiting his reaction as he carefully took it from her. “Sweetheart, you didn’t have to get me something for that.”

“I wanted to,” she pressed. “You’ve all been doing so much for me, I feel like I need to return the favour more often. So, I got you this.”

Barry smiled at her simple excitement coupled with her kindness. He sat up to get a better handle on the bag and reached inside without looking. Iris was watching his expression carefully, waiting. From the bag, he withdrew a new, leather-bound sketch book. The weight of the paper was a lighter variety, designed for charcoal, conte and pastels. Accompanying the sketchbook was a can of fixative spray, and a pack of charcoal pencils that came with a knife to sharpen, a sandpaper pad and a kneaded eraser. It was everything he would need to make and preserve a charcoal drawing.

“Iris,” he mumbled in surprise. It was not a cheap amount of art supplies. He was guessing nearly two hundred with the leather-bound book.

“Do you like it? It is something you’ll use? I know that depending on the art the supplies can be very particular but these are our best sell-”

Barry dropped the haul onto the bed between them to catch Iris’s face in his hands, cradling her delicate jaw to pull her in as his lips slanted across hers. She had to catch her balance, her hand bracing her weight at the sudden shift of her bodyweight. One of his hands remained delicately holding her jaw and neck while the other slipped back into her hair and cupped her skull.

Iris, initially caught off guard, relaxed into the kiss and leaned in closer. Her scalp tingled at the feeling of his fingers running along her skin, carding through her hair.

Barry pulled back from the kiss long enough to breathe a quick ‘thank you’ against her lips before he pulled her back in. He was sure he could feel her smiling against his lips now, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from her just yet in order to be certain. She could swear her entire body flushed with the desperate way he followed her lips, pulled her in to remove any semblance of distance.

It wouldn’t surprise her if he was able to feel how her skin pebbled, or how her body quaked with a pleasurable shiver.

The crinkle of the plastic wrapping on the items made a faint sound as Barry rose to his knees, the bag sliding off the edge of the bed with a muffled thump. It went ignored. He nearly towered above Iris, even though his hold on her remained gentle—though passionate—even as he bore his weight down against her. The hand she had previously been resting on his knee became a splayed palm against his thigh. It felt like a searing heat penetrating straight through his jeans, even just the knowledge of where she was touching enough to set his heart racing.

“Barry,” she gasped faintly in a moment when they broke to breathe, her free hand lifted to trace cool fingers across his cheek.

His nose traced along hers, nearly cheek to cheek, as he leaned in against her form. Iris settled back easily, welcomingly, until Barry’s body pressed hers down into the mattress with a gentle, controlled weight. He could feel the sharp press of her hip against his, her sturdy ribs supporting his weight as his fingers delved deeper into her hair. She could feel the warm breath he exhaled against her lips a moment before soft skin glided along hers, barely a tease of contact.

“Iris,” he breathed softly, invitingly. A hand slid against her waist, framing the delicate width, and sending a quaking shiver through her form.

She didn’t seem fully cognizant of her actions as her head tipped backward, baring her pale throat, until her head was buried deep in the pillows atop her bed. Barry dipped his focus to the welcoming stretch, pressing his lips to the graceful curve of her throat. The muscles were pulled taut, corded beneath the skin and pressed firm beneath the caress of his mouth.

Like porcelain. White as snow and smooth as silk.

So focused on her neck, her skin and scent reeling him in and holding him fast, he almost jolted in surprise when the soft scratch of her nails met the back of his neck. Starting at the base of his skull and steadily moving downward. Soon, the scratch of her nails was dipping beneath the collar of his shirt and Barry hummed softly against her skin.

Her pulse thrummed beneath his lips, racing.

A sigh was prompted from her when he began massaging her scalp, her hair wrapped securely around his fingers, and her head tipped further into his hold. “Sweetheart.” Iris hummed again, acknowledging him as she continued to revel in his touch. Her own touches continued, gentle, against the back of his neck and along the top of his spine.

Lifting himself up to prop more on his elbows, removing his weight from her body—surprisingly, she’d sustained his bodyweight completely without complaint. Those soft eyes opened at the loss of contact, meeting his eyes as her reddened lips upturned into a serene little smile. Making a minute adjustment to his hold, Barry continued to cradle her head while he stroked his thumbs along the sharp hinges of her jaw.

“I love you,” he whispered. Even though the words had been exchanged between them already, they felt just as heavy and profound as when they’d been uttered under the falling snow. Iris’s small smile bloomed into a look of pure joy, eyes creasing at the corners with the unabashed expression. Barry was helpless against the contagious happiness, a grin taking over before he leaned back down to peck a kiss against her lips.

The kiss was silly in comparison to their previous ones, their shared smiles causing teeth to click together and a giggle to erupt from Iris. Her laughter was enough to shake them slightly, causing the man above her to huff an answering laugh.

“I love you, too, Barry,” she answered happily once he’d departed from her lips once more. “So much,” she added a moment later, softer, as one of her hands came forward to trace along his cheekbone, following the crease of his smile, across his bottom lip. He remained propped above her, leaning on one hip and his elbows, as Iris’s fingertip tickled along his skin.

It was like she was trying to map out his smile, his happiness.

Barry moved to roll off of Iris before he potentially crushed her.

“No,” she jolted suddenly, hands fisting in his shirt.

“Sweetheart, I’m gunna crush you.”

Iris smiled softly as she shook her head. “Stay. I like it…it feels safe. You make me feel safe.” Barry held her gaze, assessing, before he finally gave a faint nod of assent.

The moment lulled and soothed, like being rocked on calm waters. Barry stretched out atop Iris, his arms hooked under her shoulders to hold her slim torso, with his cheek was cushioned on her chest. Even though she was quite thin, he could feel the slight swell of her breast beneath his cheek and fought against the burning flush in his cheeks at the notion. Her thighs came up on either side of his waist, enveloping him in plush warmth. Gentle fingertips continued to soothe and stroke along his back and neck, although the feeling was slightly muted through his shirt.

Once comfortable, Iris started to hum a song that Barry knew was familiar, but he couldn’t seem to place. The humming vibrated through her chest and against his cheek. It was such an addicting feeling that his hands slid from beneath her shoulders to cradle her ribs instead, large hands framing her sides almost entirely. Iris smiled at the enveloping feeling—he boxed her in from all sides, pressing her into the mattress without causing any smothering or claustrophobic sensations to come up.

Continuing to hum, she mindlessly stroked her fingers up and down his back. Occasionally, she lifted her touch enough to scratch fingers along the growing stubble of his hair. Barry seemed to enjoy those moments the most, exhaling in long, deep breaths that she could feel both through her shirt and in the large shift of his torso.

Sleep never quite came, but neither knew how long they laid out on her mattress with Iris’s soft humming to fill the silence of the apartment. Full bellies and sated emotions left them drifting, absorbed in one another. It was a moment neither wanted to break. Nothing pressing needed their attentions; no fathers or work, no phone calls or police matters. Just the two of them in a cozy apartment, enjoying the safe comfort they could provide.

For once, it was just love and acceptance.

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The One With Whiskey Eyes || 28 || Split the Skin and Bleed Again

Warnings: None

Words: 2700+

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~28~

It felt extremely different to be in the police station alone, no coffee to warm her hands and no soulmate to sit at her side. She’d let Barry know that Montez had wanted to meet with her but being stuck at work until 9 that night meant he nor the others would be able to come with her this time. Left

to sit alone in wait, her fingers tapped at her thighs or pulled her phone out to look at it with expectation of seeing something waiting for her.

“Iris?”

Unable to control her reflex, Iris jumped in place as she turned to look at the officer in front of her. He offered a soft smile to try and soothe her momentary fear, but her heart continued to hammer in her chest. “Office Montez,” she breathed out. “Sorry, my nerves are a bit-”

“No worries, Iris. Why don’t you come on back and we’ll get you settled at my desk. Can I get you a coffee?”

Rising from her place, she tucked her phone back into her pocket and followed behind the familiar cop as he led her from the waiting area. “No, thank you though. I don’t think I need more caffeine to make me more jittery than I already am,” she smiled to ease the reality of her words, but Montez could see that she was shaking and looked incredibly tense even just from sitting in the waiting area.

“Have a seat, hun. I’m just going to go and grab the file we started after the incident at the store,” he directed quietly, motioning to the chair next to his desk while he diverted off his path to head to a back room. Iris did as he said and settled into the uncomfortable plastic chair, fingers beginning to pick at the edge of her coat.

It had been a slower start to the day for her, Barry lingering around for as long as he could before heading home to prepare for work. They’d enjoyed their coffees and she had made them a late breakfast. As Barry had been cleaning up, his insistence since she had cooked, Iris had called the number Montez had left with Barry. Once she had explained what had happened, he had arranged for them to meet as soon as she was able to come in. The anti-mark group had been causing more and more issues lately, but for them to be targeting someone directly was an increased concern.

Barry had his back to her while she was on the phone, but she could see the way his back tensed and his arms locked up when she had been retelling what happened. He hadn’t known the full extent of what took place—only what BT had told him—so it caused his rage at her father to come alive again. This woman deserved the biggest break in the world, but it seemed they weren’t done with torturing her yet.

She looked up around the office to try and distract herself, taking in the other few officers and detectives that occupied the space as they were doing their own work.

A young man, a teenager if she was to guess, was sitting at another desk in the pen that had a dark glare on his face as he looked at the floor in front of his feet. The way he looked down at the floor with such disdain made it appear like all of the hatred in the world was carried within that gaze.

Iris looked away quickly before he could glance up. Tension was already high within her; she didn’t need the additional anxiety caused by a troubled youth that already looked so angry and hateful.

Montez reclaimed his seat across from her before she could spiral further into her own fears and anxiety, flipping open the manilla folder that had her name tagged along the edge. Try as she might, the younger couldn’t stop herself from jolting slightly at his sudden reappearance. Montez looked up with a slightly wide-eyed look at her reaction, before his gaze softened and he offered a soft and reassuring smile.

“Sorry,” she mumbled before she could stop herself. Apologizing had once been so commonplace for her; fear immediately drew that urge to the surface.

He only shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry for. So, why don’t you tell me about this concerning phone call you received that brought you in.”

Montez was patient, watched as she swallowed thickly with her gaze fixated on the desktop. “My parents are unmarked,” she started, keeping her tone low but still enough for him to catch her words. “They always had me hide my marks when I was younger. Even after I left home, it stuck for a long time. I know if they reacted badly to my marks, there would be others. It’s been years since I’ve seen them, but when I met one of my soulmates, I stopped worrying so much about hiding them.” She took a moment to pause, glancing up to meet Montez’s gaze. If he had any thoughts on her revelation about multiple marks, he gave no outward reaction. “My father found out where I lived and he taped a note to my apartment door, telling me to cover my marks. There was also a voicemail, but I deleted that.

“I received a call from a private number. The man introduced himself as someone who worked for Mark Sans, and he had a message for me from Howard. My father’s name is Howard Mayfair.”

Iris was nervously scratching her nail along her thigh, following the fine grooves in her jeans. Not quite sure where to look, she found herself staring at Montez’s hands as he sat with them calmly steepled atop her file.

“What was the message?” he prompted after she remained silent for a moment. The thickened tone of his voice caused her to look up and see that any softened or soothing appearance in his eyes was gone. The mention of Mark Sans had immediately shifted the man’s reaction from comforting concern to acute, professional focus.

Iris shook her head. “I panicked and hung up before he could get another word out. The second I heard the name it all clicked, and I remembered hearing about the anti-mark people using Mark Sans as a type of alias. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, Iris, don’t be sorry,” he soothed, reaching out to gently pat her knee before he pulled up a legal pad that was filled with messily written notes. Tearing away the top page, he turned the now blank surface over to her. “I need you to write down everything you can remember, okay? From the note, the voicemail, the phone call. Even if you could hear an accent in the man’s voice, if it was deep or high, anything.”

Nodding along, Iris accepted the pen he offered as well, shuffling to the edge of her chair so she wasn’t so far from the desk while writing.

The shaking of her hands must have been more obvious than she realized because he stopped her short of pen touching paper, cupping her hand between his to stop the shakes. “Take as long as you need. I’m going to go get some more paperwork that I’ll need. Are you sure I can’t get you a glass of water? Or a tea? I know we’ve got some green tea in the break room.”

Iris smiled faintly. “Just a water. Thank you.”

Taking the time to write everything down, dredging up what she’d much rather have kept compressed and forgotten, was like pulling scabs off of fresh wounds.

As painful of a process as it was turning out to be, she made sure to put down every single piece of information that came to mind. She could vividly remember the sound of the paper crunched in her hand once she’d ripped it off her door, the sound of her father’s voice hissing at her, enraged, through her voicemail. It felt like she was writing down one of her nightmares, but this was an unfortunate reality.

Montez rejoined her, a glass of water placed in front of her, but without a word. Although she nodded her thanks, nothing was said as they fell into companionable silence to work through their given papers. Her writing became somewhat illegible a couple times, recounting the events causing her hand to tremble no matter how hard she worked to keep it steady.

She sipped periodically at the glass of water, giving her hands time to rest and her heartbeat to calm.

Several pages were filled by the time she came up to present time, finishing with the details from her phone call at work. Braving the consequences, she included that she has several soulmates—though not stating the exact number—and had been targeted by anti-markers many times.

Thinking of her soulmates made her wish they were here with her, even just to sit next to her in silent support. Maybe even hold her hand.

Instead, she got a text from Barry once he reached his break at work.

Remember to breathe, Sweetheart. Love you.

It helped her to get through the last pages.

Montez never rushed her, even when she had to sit and take a moment to do as Barry said and breathe. Once she was finally finished, she offered the pages to him with her name and signature sitting at the bottom.

“You doin’ okay?” he asked calmly. She must have been quite the sight, obviously rattled.

“No,” she answered with complete honesty. “At least not right now,” she clarified after a moment. He gave an assuring smile in return while taking the pages from her and tucking them into her existing file. “Is there anything else I need to do or…”

“No, you’re all set. Go take a nice bath or something, just relax. We’ll get this sorted out.”

It was times like this that she wished she had a bathtub, but her small little shower would have to do. Instead, she just nodded and offered a tight-lipped smile while gathering her meagre belongings. No one else spared her a glance as she left except for the officer that released her back into the waiting area. It was little more than an hour that she had been sitting there, but it felt like a lifetime since she’d stepped back into that building.

She never expected to be spending so much time in the police station. It wasn’t exactly a place she’d frequented at any point in her life, but it seemed that it would be a constant in her near future.

Taking a stop at the café where she was steadily becoming a regular, Iris took the time to send a text back to Barry while she was waiting for her tea and muffin.

“Here you go, hun!” the older woman behind the counter offered with a bright smile, the joy she exuded helping to calm Iris’s nerves a bit. “Have a great day.”

“You, too,” Iris returned in a much more subdued tone, but her smile was authentic as she accepted her drink and snack.

Admittedly, thinking back to and writing down what had happened made her hesitate as she left the stairwell of her building—peeking at her door to make sure there wasn’t a note taped to it. She took a deep, steadying breath while leaving the odd-comfort of the stairwell door—her escape route, she realized belatedly.

It didn’t stop her from squeezing her way into her apartment at lightning speed and immediately locking the door behind her.

Securely inside the safety of her small, enclosed home allowed the weight to finally lift off of her chest. It had started to grow there while she was in the station with Montez but stepping out into the open street, where she couldn’t keep track of everyone around her, had the anxiety of the unknown putting a stranglehold on her chest.

Whenever she feels like she’s improving, getting more accustomed to being herself, being free, she seems to take ten steps back as well.

Stripping off her outerwear and putting her muffin and coffee on her nightstand, Iris bunched her pillows into a semi-circle and grabbed her most recent book. Wanting to leave behind stress and responsibility for a while, it was a sci-fi novel instead of her usual non-fiction or textbook. It was a treat and a welcome break from her reality, sucking her into a whimsical, impossible world instead.

With her cellphone close by for any possible messages from her soulmates, Iris cuddled down amongst her pillows and duvet. Her tea and muffin warmed and filled her, helping her to better enjoy the fantastical novel that had recently come into the store.

The coffee worked well to keep her awake, since the comfortable position and the leisurely reading would have otherwise made her drowsy. She had neared the end of the novel by the time her phone began buzzing away, Kevin’s name coming up on the screen.

With quick, practiced ease she stashed her bookmark back between the pages and had scooped up the slim device.

“Good evening,” she greeted softly, subconsciously wanting to keep the quiet ambience of the apartment.

“Hello, Sweetheart. I didn’t wake you, did I?” He was keeping his tone a bit low, and Iris could hear others speaking in the background; he was probably still in the staff room at work.

Iris sank back into her pillows and drew her knees up toward her chest. “No, no, just enjoying a book. I was way too jittery to sleep anyway. How was work?”

“Same old stuff, kids pulling stupid pranks and such.” She could hear the exhaustion in his voice and her heart went out to him. Not that she had any way of gauging what his normal was before, but she knew that since they had met, he and her other soulmates had lost out on so much of their needed sleep. “Have you had dinner yet?”

Iris jolted, realizing that it had been hours since she’d eaten last. Apparently, the book had done a better job than she realized to distract her. “Oh, no, I honestly didn’t even realize the time!”

Barry’s soothing voice chuckled low into her ear. “How ‘bout I grab something and swing by? Quiet evening in?”

The thought of him coming over caused a now-familiar fluttering sensation in her stomach. “I’d love that. But only if you’re sure! I feel bad making you come all the way here when you could just go straight home.”

“Don’t even worry about that, Sweetheart,” he soothed. “But if it makes you feel better, one of the guys was talking about getting some food on his way home, he offered to give me a ride. But that means he’s picking dinner; Thai sound good?”

She smiled to herself. “I’ll admit, that does make me feel better. However, I’ve never actually had Thai, but I’d be happy to give it a try.”

“Really? You’ve never had Thai before?” Barry asked in genuine surprise. She had a feeling it was because there was a very highly recommended Thai place just down the street from where she worked.

“What?” a voice gasped in the background of the call. She wasn’t sure what happened following the gasp, but she assumed Barry must have given the accidental eavesdropper a look because a soft ‘sorry’ came through a moment later. She couldn’t help but to giggle at the chastised sound of the other man’s voice.

“Thai it is. I’ll see you in a bit, love.”

“See you soon, Barry.”

Once she’d hung up, Iris jumped from her little nest of pillows and began the simple and quick task of tidying up her apartment. It was probably a moot concern by that point, but she still felt the need to put her best foot forward. It was the same reason she brushed her hair and teeth as well, giving a bit of effort in her appearance after having gone to the station looking barely more improved than someone just out of bed.

Her last job was to neaten her bed since she had made quite the mess of it while using her pillows as a reading nest for the past several hours.

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The One With Whiskey Eyes || 27 || Quiet Kiss of Dawn

Words: 2700+

Warning(s): Panic Attacks, Mentions of Abuse

Previous || Next

~27~

Iris’s full-bodied jolt is what woke BT. His groggy mind was still half in sleep as he glanced to his left, watching as Iris suddenly flew from the bed and raced toward her apartment door. The frantic way she moved forced him into full wakefulness, watching as she slammed her body against the wood and started checking and double-checking that all of the locks remained in place.

“Iris?” he called calmly as he slid out of the bed.

It was like she didn’t even hear him, her hands now resting on the door as she muttered to herself in breathless whispers. The panic that she had spun herself into left her entire body shaking, hands trembling on the solid door as though making them an extra means of reinforcement. She kept her pressure, even though they shook. Her upper back was so tight that he could see the shape of her scapula from the tension through her shirt.

“Iris,” he tried again, taking slow steps toward her around the foot of the bed.

When no answer came, he reached out for her carefully and touched her shoulder with the barest caress of fingertips.

It was the contact that finally broke her from her moment, a shriek disrupting the silence of the room as she spun around and slapped aside his hand with more force than he was expecting. The look on her face was one of absolute terror. Back connecting with the door, it rattled upon impact. BT’s hands immediately lifted in surrender, his heart hammering at the sudden change in her demeanor.

“Iris! It’s BT! It’s okay, it’s me!” he assured quickly, erratically patting at his chest and waving his hands in front of himself as he desperately tried to wipe that look from her face. The sight of it directed at him made him sick to his stomach.

It took a moment longer, but her expression began to soften. The terror was replaced with tears. Her eyes glistened with them, brows drawing down as she finally dawned on what was happening around herself. “I’m sorry,” she breathed brokenly, her hands lifting to her mouth. BT rushed forward before she could say more, wrapping her in his arms and pulling her away from the door.

She shook like a leaf. The tremors quaked through her body enough that BT could feel them all the way down to her legs. She burrowed deep into his embrace until her nose pressed against his sternum, like she wanted to dig herself inside of him where she knew she’d be safe. Rubbing at her back or stroking her hair, BT wasn’t sure what else he could do to offer her any real comfort.

“I’ve got you; you’re safe,” he assured quietly.

Her body jerked with a sob she tried, unsuccessfully, to contain. “Even in my sleep, he’s there.”

“He’s not here,” he whispered in her ear. “Just you and me, Iris. And I swear, he tries to get in when it’s you and me, he’s definitely leaving with some broken bones.”

Her shaking didn’t cease, but he was certain that it eased at least slightly as her weight pressed in against him. Continuing to stroke a hand across her back and through her hair, BT wished there was more that he could do for the tiny woman in his arms. He wished he could give her a night of peaceful sleep.

Just a few minutes in which her parents—and the fear that they had engrained in her—didn’t exist.

Stooping down, BT swiped her legs out from under her and lifted her slight form easily into his arms. She barely made a sound as she was caught and carried, hands clenching in his shirt as she gazed up at him with eyes so heartbreakingly sad. Shuffling on his knees, he brought them back to the center of her bed and burrowed down into the blankets and pillows like the embrace of an old friend.

He kept her in close, pressed to his chest with his arms and clothes, her blankets and even a pillow were all pressing in on her to give her a cocoon of safety. Briefly, he worried that he might make her feel claustrophobic, but she showed now signs of increased distress.

“We’re always going to be here for you, Iris. And you know that there’s a safe place for you to stay with us if that’s what you need. You’re always welcome.”

She didn’t respond, but he could feel the gentle ease that was coming to her bow-string tension. “I want to live my life; I keep wanting to prove that what they did to me won’t make me hide anymore. But then…-” her words choked off, her throat strangling against actually bringing up what they were doing to her aloud.

“What they did was unimaginable,” BT started quietly. “And no one is going to expect you to just…walk away from it. No matter how long it’s been since you’ve actually seen them, you’ve still lived with what they did to you all this time. However long you need to heal from that, you take it. In the meantime, rely on us. Whether it’s to feel safe while you get a goodnight sleep, someone to hold you or even just tell you everything’s okay—we’re here.”

Thin arms encircled his waist, and he could feel her entire body press in closer to his, from her ankles to her head.

“I feel like a burden to you. Everything you guys already have to deal with in your own lives and now I’m adding to it,” she murmured mournfully into his chest.

BT’s lips pursed, knowing that he could assure her that she wasn’t a burden until he was blue in the face—that kind of insecurity needed more than just hurried assurances.

“After you and Barry met the first time, we were all talking about it—trying to figure out why you ran away. We were so worried about you because we knew that to have twenty-three soulmarks must have been…too much. We had each other to help make it through people not understanding us, both with the alters and with marks that were clearly all written in the same writing; we were worried that you had no one. We understand the fear of being a burden.”

She pulled herself away from him just enough to look up at him, red rimming her eyes from her tears and the strangle of emotion that continued to rage within her.

“But Dennis said ‘she has us’. And he’s right. You’re not a burden, Iris. You’re…you’re ours.”

He stroked the hair from her face gently, offering a soft smile as he held her teary gaze with all the softness he had in him. “Thank you,” she breathed out, finally closing her eyes as she relaxed completely. BT drew her in against him again, kissing her forehead and the crown of her head. The remaining tremors eased off as well, leaving her to lie against him like a limp pasta noodle. Emotionally wrung out and deprived of a decent sleep—it was unsurprisingly that she eased against him so abruptly.

“Get some sleep, Iris. I’ll be here. We’ll all be here.”

Even after she had drifted back off to sleep, it took another hour or so for BT to grow tired enough to join her. He was half afraid that she would jolt up again, panicking and throwing herself against the door. But she was blissfully slack with unconsciousness, no longer tight with tension or fear. Sleep welcoming her back with open arms—even as she remained secure in his.

Powerless against his exhausted body and mind, and wrapped up in warmth from the small heater and thick duvet, he eventually drifted off.

It was Barry that woke with their soulmate wrapped in his arms the next morning, his cellphone’s alarm blaring the usual annoying tone. His arms automatically tightened around Iris, drawing her in close as she heaved out a breath upon waking. “Turn it off,” she grumbled around his chest, her nose feeling slightly chilly through BT’s thin shirt from the day before.

“It’s in my coat,” he grunted back. Her little whine of unhappiness made him smile, waking up that much more from the adorable noises she was making. “Sorry,” he breathed out, releasing her from the warmth of his arms in order to roll from the bed. The damn thing would go for two minutes—even when it stopped it would only resume in the next five.

“New rule in the apartment, no alarms,” she mumbled into the duvet, the top of her head the only thing he could see once she had pulled it up over her face.

Barry chuckled at her actions, relieved that she seemed to have rolled into a state of sleepy contentment even after the day she’d had; and subsequent night, apparently. “I don’t think either of us can pull that off for long, morning shifts and all.” Resuming his place on the bed, atop the covers this time, he grinned as he pulled them down enough to expose her closed eyes. “It’s nine AM, that’s more than either of us usually get to sleep in.”

Those whiskey eyes he loved so much opened then but still carried the glaze of lingering sleep.

He smiled in greeting. “Coffee?”

Her head bobbed tiredly. “I’ll make some.”

“No, no, no,” he protested immediately, half-draping himself across Iris’s body to keep her lying down when he felt the movement of her shoulders begin to lift. “Let me. I’ll ask you if I can’t find something, but you stay here.”

The further support his decision, he tucked the sheet and duvet tightly around Iris’s torso and legs, pinning her arms in against her chest. The woman immediately burst into giggles, unable to control the reaction as he went all the way down to her feet. Soon, she felt like she was wrapped up in a feathery cocoon. She whined half-heartedly, “Barry!”

“I got this,” he assured, leaning over her carefully to place a gentle kiss against her cheek. It was pleasantly warm, flushed pink from her laugher and encompassing body-heat of sleep. He could even feel the lift of her cheek as she smiled, eyelashes fluttering against his skin like the tease of butterfly wings.

“Coffee’s above the tea, French press is on top of the fridge.” She sounded resigned, relaxing back against the pillows; moving only to adjust her head and give herself the chance to watch him. Still wearing BT’s clothes from the day before, he looked so different from the time they’d spent together in the past. The tight t-shirt he was wearing revealed his arms, including some of the marks that Iris tried to ignore.

He paused occasionally, looking for what he needed, but he worked diligently. Once the water in the kettle was set to boil, the coffee prepped and waiting in the French press, he rejoined Iris on the bed. The sleepy appearance had eased and she looked at him with clear eyes and a peaceful smile.

“How do you feel today?” he asked quietly, reaching up to stroke a lose wave of hair from her face.

She blinked against the sensation, but Barry was relieved that his question didn’t dull her smile. “Better. A few good hours of sleep definitely helped.” It took some wiggling, but she freed her hand from the sheets and gently stroked her thumb along his jawline, grounded by the beginning sensations of stubble she encountered there. “I doubt I would’ve slept at all if you guys weren’t here.”

Barry’s smile lit up his face like the sun. “You know we’ll always be here when you need us. Or at the very least we’ll be close by.”

“I don’t know if there’s much I can offer you guys, but that goes both ways. If there’s something I can do for you, please let me know?”

Drawing her in closer so he could rest his forehead against hers, Barry gave the faintest nod. “All we need is you, Iris, but I promise we’ll let you know.” She could feel the breath of his words against her lips, prompting a new flush to creep into her cheeks at the thought of just how close he really was in that moment.

Tipping her head just slightly, it separated their foreheads but caused her nose to skim against his. Meeting the brilliant blue of his gaze, she pause a moment to take in the various flecks of blue that melded together and created the beautiful shade. “I love your eyes,” she breathed softly against his lips, the hand that had remained at his jaw lifting to trace the silky skin beneath one eye.

“You’re stealing my lines, Sweetheart.”

The giggles that his comment prompted were quickly swallowed when his lips came across hers, so warm and comforting. They both smiled against the other, hands cradling the other’s jaw to keep close. Iris fought the tremble in her hand as her heart started racing inside her chest. Even though this was not their first kiss, it still felt that way. It was caused her body to thrum with exhilaration and excitement. The love for him, for her soulmate, warmed her chest better than even the sun was capable.

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips, barely drawing back enough to get the words out.

His smile prevented him from kissing her like he wanted, from claiming her lips with the passion that gripped him fiercely at her words. He would never tire of hearing them.

“I love you, too.”

The quiet moment between them was ended with the beginning sounds of her kettle, not quite whistling yet.

Barry parted from her with one more quick kiss smacked against her lips. Reaching the kettle before it started screaming, he resumed the task of making their coffees for the morning. Iris extracted her upper body from the sheets and adjusted the pillows to give them something to lean on—rather than the headboard. She had to direct him toward the sugar, remembering the last time he’d slept at her apartment had revealed his love for super-sweet coffee, but he was doing remarkably well on his own thus far.

Soon, she had a hot coffee cradled in her palms and Barry had resumed his place beside her.

“BT said you have work later today?” she started once he was comfortable.

“Yea, four until 9. Bit of a weird one today. Do you want me to come back after work?” She knew he was asking about the offer BT had made the night before. Have someone stay with her, or go and stay with them again.

Sitting in silence for a minute, Barry let her organize her thoughts.

“I think I’ll be okay here. I won’t answer any unknown or private numbers from now on. And I’m going to call Officer Montez; I don’t know if what happened that night has to do with that phone call, but it doesn’t seem like a coincidence.���

Barry was nodding along, looking down at her hands—she hadn’t noticed that she was spinning her cup nervously, the liquid swaying almost too close to the lip. She immediately stopped. “I agree. And I do want to offer again—if you ever feel scared or unsafe here, please call us. You’ll always be welcome to stay in my room, Felicia’s got a standing invite as well from what I’ve heard. You have other places to go if you want to get a good night sleep. Or just a few hours to relax.”

She had never doubted the invites already offered, but it helped soothe any remaining concerns to have it repeated. “We’ll see how tonight goes, but thank you.” Leaning sideways, careful not to tip her mug, she pressed a lingering kiss against the corner of his mouth.

Instantly, Barry turned his head to meet her kiss properly. Her soft lower lip, slightly bitten from the nerves she’d endured the day before, was caught between his for a quiet moment of peace. He almost lost his composure when she parted her lips, but quickly changed her mind from any actions she was considering as she pulled back and ducked down to take a slow drink from her coffee.

Copying her, Barry took a long sip from his coffee as he pondered how he’d function as an intellectual person if she had gathered her courage to deepen the kiss.

Previous || Next

[bold-writing]

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 26 || Sanctuary Walls, Welcome Me Home

Words: 2800+

Warnings: Sexual Tension

Previous || Next

~26~

BT reacted very similar to Barry when they reached her apartment, taking in the tiny space before he commented on the ‘ungodly’ number of teas she had stacked on the shelf. Placing his half-finished hot chocolate on the counter, he looked over the way she had organized her kitchen, leading into the bedroom area of the studio apartment. A small shelf of books—mostly textbooks—occupied its own little corner, along with her laptop and all appropriate charging cords.

Iris hung up her coat in the closet as he looked around—not that there was much to inspect—and repeated the action with the one he had draped across her bed. He was occupied reading the textbooks she had acquired, so Iris turned and flopped herself backward onto her bed. The rush of air huffed from her lungs, blankets fluffing up around her and the whisps of freed hair tickling around her face.

BT turned at the sound, a subdued smile touching his lips as he took in his emotionally exhausted soulmate.

Moving to perch himself at the foot of the bed, he took one of her hands gently and cradled it as she turned her head to look at him with tired eyes. “Do you want to come to our place tonight? Or I could stay here with you?”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” she replied quietly, blinking slowly against the urge to sleep. Or pass out.

Smiling and moving to lie on the bed next to her, he kept his legs draped off of the side. “Good thing I’m offering, instead.”

Turning her hand over to return his grip, she closed her eyes with a soft sigh. Did she want to run away again? Although, she could suppose it didn’t count as running away. Her time spent with her soulmates had resulted in some of the best sleep she’d had in months. Without having to worry about her, there was little doubt that the others had felt the same.

Patricia had first made the offer to her in order to give her the peace of mind that she could come to them, be safe with them. And BT had taken her earlier words to heart, giving her the choice rather than telling her that she was going to be staying with them. Even providing the option to stay at her own apartment left her breathing a bit easier—there was nothing constricting about his offer.

BT gave her all the time she needed to think. Making himself more comfortable on the bed, he rolled slightly to face her better as he brought her hand up to kiss her knuckles.

The longer she stayed lying on her back, the familiar comfort of her bed beneath her and her soulmate crowded into her side, the more fatigue pressed down on her. Iris opened her eyes again just to make sure she didn’t start to doze off on him. The fact that she was already so tired answered her debate on whether she wanted to leave or not, but the decision remained regarding BT’s offer to stay.

“What do you work tomorrow?”

“Barry’s got a half day tomorrow, starts at 4 if I remember correctly. You’re off tomorrow?”

Nodding her head, she found her eyes drifting closed without realizing and quickly blinked to wake herself up. BT smiled softly at her, reaching forward to smooth her loosened hair back from her face. “Would you like to stay?” she finally offered, rolling over until they were facing one another. She was short enough that tucking her legs up meant they weren’t hanging off the edge of the bed anymore.

They were left nearly chest to chest. BT could smell the peppermint hot chocolate on her breath.

“I’d love to,” he assured.

Already she was drifting again, leaning into his hand. “Don’t have any clothes for you,” she mumbled in warning. BT repressed the urge to laugh at her slurring speech—and the continued concern she had for the comfort of others, even while falling sleep.

“I’ll manage, Doll. Let’s get you ready for bed.”

He knew she wouldn’t want to go to sleep while wearing her work clothes so he gently pulled away and moved to stand in front of her, taking her hands and hoisting her up into a sitting position. “I have to shower,” she grumbled, swinging her legs off the bed again and leaning forward to rest her forehead against his arm.

BT chuckled, “Well, that’ll be step one.”

Helping her to her feet, he guided her toward the door that he could already see led into a small washroom. She quickly checked the back of the door to make sure her towel was still hanging there before she glanced back at BT. He had moved to collect his discarded drink and was now looking over the small spice rack that sat on the top of her fridge. She felt bad that she didn’t have a television or something for him to entertain himself with, but she didn’t intend to take too long.

Closing the door behind her, she quickly shucked off her clothes from her day—feeling dirtier than usual—and turned on the shower to give it time to warm. Brushing her teeth in the meantime, she avoided looking in the mirror. She knew what sight would meet her; pasty skin, shadows beneath her eyes, that familiar panicked glaze across her eyes.

She was so sick of that sight.

Quickly dipping her fingers beneath the spray and adjusting the temperature, Iris spat out the toothpaste and rinsed the sink before she stepped into the smallish stall.

Nothing felt better after a day like hers than a hot shower. It soothed the ache that had build up between her shoulders as she desperately tried to act normal in front of Jessica, the faint headache that lingered inside her temples also eased just a bit more. Best of all, the filthy feeling that clung to her after hanging up on that man was washed away with each scalding droplet. Her showers always verged on the side of too-hot, but the high temperature was the only thing that seemed to help.

Once she had fully scrubbed down, she stepped out into the steamy air and blindly sought out her towel. She kicked aside the lump of clothes she had left sitting on the floor and quickly started toweling herself down before the water had a chance to cool on her skin. Ringing the remnants of water out of her hair, she paused while leaning over the sink as she realized she had forgotten something.

She never brought her clothing into the room with her. No need when she lived alone. But now BT was out in the main area of her apartment and her clothes required her to walk around her bed and into the small closet nook, then back around the bed and into the bathroom to actually dress.

All while in her towel.

Her face pinched with embarrassment as she dropped her head backward, long strands of wet hair falling across her exposed back.

Perhaps if she hadn’t been so ready to sleep when she stepped into the room, she’d have remembered this step of her nightly routine sooner. Unfortunately, there was little she could do now.

Normally, she would twist her hair and hang it over her shoulder. This time, she shook the wet locks out around her shoulders in an attempt to cover some of her skin. Then, she scooped her dirty clothes up into her arms and stood in front of the bathroom door.

Since when had that door seemed so imposing?

Knowing that delaying would only make her nerves worse, she twisted the knob and opened the door a crack. BT was sitting on the end of her bed, one of her textbooks in his hands as he read over where she had left off. From the size of it, she assumed it was the accounting one she had purchased to help her with balancing the books for work.

“I gotta say, this stuff goes right over my head,” he commented. Clearly, he had heard the door open.

Resting her head against the doorframe for a moment to collect herself, Iris opened the door enough to slip out. “I never used to get it either; helps if you start reading at the beginning,” she responded, trying to keep her voice light even as she felt her throat tightening.

“Ha-ha,” BT jester, smiling as he straightened up then glanced over his shoulder to where she stood. His smile froze on his face for a second, then lessened as his eyes widened. “Woah.”

Iris could feel the blood rush to her cheeks as she shyly backed up to cover herself with the frame of the bathroom’s doorway. No one had ever seen so much of her—even her parents stopped letting her show so much skin after enough marks had revealed themselves over her childhood. The cooler air outside of the room caused her skin to prickle and pebble; the dirty clothes bunched to her chest preventing her nipples from showing through the towel. The water saturating her hair was cooling rapidly, only making her feel colder by the second.

BT recognized her discomfort and stuttered for a moment before he turned away from her and stood up, moving hurriedly toward the kitchen. As he was walking, he lifted her accounting book up to cover his face. “Sorry! I’ll just-OW!” Without the ability to see where he was going, his knee rammed into the cabinet of her kitchen, stopping his forward momentum.

Iris gasped at the loud bang that accompanied the contact, one hand shooting to her mouth, before the absurdity of the situation became too much and she burst into a fit of giggles.

BT remained with his face in her book but was now hunched over until both were resting on the surface of her counter. “At least it wasn’t my toe,” he grumbled just loud enough for her to hear. Iris tried to compose herself, quickly shuffling across the room while his back was to her. Dumping her work clothes into the hamper, she collected her night-clothes in record time. Darting back toward the bathroom, she paused in the doorway.

“Are you okay?” she asked hesitantly while sliding into the bathroom but not closing the door.

“Good!” he assured, even throwing a thumbs-up in her direction.

Even though she felt bad that he had hurt himself, the entire incident had helped alleviate her nerves remarkably well. She laughed out a soft ‘okay’ before closing herself into the bathroom again.

BT remained hunched over the counter, the brief shock of pain in his knee long gone. Briefly, he wondered if she had been able to see the blush that had gone all the way to his ears and down his neck. He hadn’t even thought about the fact that she had gone straight into the bathroom—of course she wouldn’t have any clothes for when she came out. There had been no preparing for seeing her standing in only a towel when he’d looked back at her.

The thinness that he felt through her clothes was much more noticeable when she was uncovered, but the definition in her arms had been another surprise. No wonder she’d been hefting those boxes with such ease. The water in her hair was already started dripping down her arms and chest, causing the light to catch them like jewels glittering on her skin. The bundle of clothes she’d been holding had blocked a good majority of her torso, but the way her hair had plastered to her skin beneath her collarbone gave hint to the swell of her breasts.

Even if only a glimpse, the image of her standing wet, in only a towel, would remain seared into his memory.

She was so pale, the soulmarks that cross along her body were immediately eye-catching. Logically, having twenty-three soulmates should have prepared him for seeing so many marks, but it was still a shock when put face to face with him. Her arms were decorated with the words of all the others he knew in Kevin’s body—his mark, however, was not so easily seen and it made him wonder if it was somewhere down on her legs.

Was it wrong of him to regret not looking down to her legs while he’d had the chance?

Thinking back on it only made him ache, so BT quickly pushed away from the counter and ran his hands rapidly over the bristle of his growing hair. He needed to shave it again soon. Distracting himself with considering when the best time would be to get that done, he paced the tiny space of her kitchen as he waited for her to come back out.

How was he going to look her in the eye without blushing after that?

The drifting thought only caused his mind to reconjure the image of her in that towel.

Damn.

Before he had more time to torture himself, the bathroom door opened again. Lunging for the discarded book on the counter, BT tried to make it look as though he had been busy while she changed. As though worried someone else would be waiting for her, Iris peeked around the doorframe before she opened the door the rest of the way.

Did she always do that?

It made him think that she was on guard, worried that her home wasn’t entirely safe. Or was it just leftover shyness from what had just transpired?

“Uhm…you can shower here if you want,” she offered quietly, motioning back behind her.

BT was momentarily tempted to accept, but there had already been enough awkward near-nakedness for one day. “I’m good. Today was an easy day so I’ll be fine until tomorrow. Barry’ll have the time when he goes home tomorrow before work.” He did, however, shrug out of the sweater he had donned beneath his work coat, revealing a simple black t-shirt that hugged his biceps and torso. It also gave her a view of how broad his shoulders really were, the definition leading up toward his neck thick with muscle.

Iris’s eyes quickly flitted over the newly revealed skin of his arms, along with several soulmarks that she was certain she had yet to say.

Not wanting to intrude on what most consider private, she busied herself with turning on her small heater and shuffling some of the pillows around on her bed to better suit two people. BT returned her book where he had found it and stood back as Iris circled around her bed like a busy bee, adjusting the pillows and folding down the duvet.

“Oh!” she gasped suddenly, darting back into the bathroom. The sleep pants she was wearing hung past her ankle—he was surprised she didn’t trip herself. When she reappeared, she was carrying a toothbrush in a new package. “After Barry and Patricia both stayed over, I felt bad that I had nothing for you guys here, so I bought some simple toiletries. There’s a little travel toothpaste as well. At least you won’t have stale chocolate stuck in your mouth.”

Her excitement over the simple action brought a smile to his face as BT accepted her offering. “Thanks, Doll. I hadn’t even thought of that yet.”

Shrugging bashfully, she stepped out of his way and motioned toward the bathroom in a ‘help yourself’ gesture.

After he’d stepped into the smaller room and closed the door, she dropped to sit on the edge of her bed and let out a long, shaking breath. The heat in her face told her that she was still blushing, made worse after he’d removed his sweater to show the definition in his arms. Cupping her own cheeks, she hoped that the chill in her palms would be enough to relieve some of the heat that had accumulated there.

Before she had gone into her shower, things had been comfortable between the two of them. Now, it felt like something had changed. The air was…thicker. She’d intended to tell him that he could take his pants off and sleep in his boxers, but now the thought of making such an offer seemed like it would come through with a different connotation.

Making a soft little sound of discomfort, she jumped back to her feet and went about the rest of her nightly routine. Double-checking the door locks, the windows, grabbing two glasses of water in case either of them wanted something to drink through the night. She discarded their empty cups and filled her kettle for the morning. By the time BT re-emerged, she had done a sweep of her entire apartment and had returned to the bed and was pulling back the duvet completely.

The thought of crawling under her sheets prompted a yawn to drop open her jaw.

BT’s hand came to rest atop her head; her hair felt cool to the touch from her shower.

“Let’s get you in bed,” he directly, helping her back into the covers.

Previous || Next

[bold-writing]

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 25 || My Mistaken Battle Cry, A Whimper

Words: 3000+

Warnings: Panic Attacks, Mentions of Past Abuse

Previous || Next

~ 25~

The days they received shipments were always the busiest for Pages of the World; not so much for those on the floor, but Iris and Jessica were tasked with receiving it and checking over each package before signing off. It was fast-paced and somewhat chaotic—although, after working together through many such days, the chaos had taken on a certain rhythm for the two. It helped that Iris knew she could trust the others to maintain the rest of the store and only come to get her if it was absolutely necessary.

In that time, her phone had received two phone calls—both of which came from private names and numbers. No voicemails were left, so it didn’t cause an immediately panic. Since the incident with the front window, she had been fielding calls on her personal line with the new security company, the insurance and even one or two from the company who replaced the busted window.

She had just finished signing the last of the forms for the shipment when Jessica blindly handed her the ringing cellphone from where she’d placed it on a free stretch of shelving.

One hand lifted her cellphone to her ear as the other passed off the clipboard of papers. “Hello?” she greeted professionally, waving to the man as he disappeared out the back door—which Jessica was quick to close and bolt shut behind him. The back stockroom was cold enough that both women had donned their coats and closed the door leading out to the store.

“Is this Iris?”

“Yes, how can I help you?” she continued, stepping aside to let Jessica start on the lengthy process of organizing the many boxes they had removed from their skid delivery.

“I work for Mark Sans,” the man on the other end continued.

Iris paused at the familiar name. Even though she was unsure where she knew it, her stomach clenched with dread; she knew it was not the name of a friend. Actually, the more she thought about it the less it sounded like a name at all. Mark Sans?

Didn’t the word sans mean-

“I have a message from Howard-”

Iris ended the call so abruptly she nearly knocked her cellphone out of her own hand. Her throat went bone dry as she tried to swallow the uncomfortable lump that had accumulated there. She could feel the familiar tightening in her chest, panic swelling to the surface so suddenly it was like someone was trying to smother her.

Mark Sans. Without Mark.

She had read that name in an article about a radicle Anti-Mark group that was steadily growing in numbers through the years. Several homicides and assaults had been linked to the group and its volatile members. Many of the convictions had shown a connection through an alias name; Mark Sans. However, it was the name of her father—Howard Mayfair—that caused her heart to hit the floor.

Rasping out a quick excuse to Jessica, she slipped into her office as her vision swam and blackened around the edges. It was terrifyingly similar to how she felt after discovering her father’s note. She was almost desperate not to pass out this time, however, and quickly shook her head even as she picked up a binder from the desk and began waving it at her face. The cool air was a welcome relief against her heated cheeks—which probably had no colour in them.

Falling into her desk chair for her own safety, Iris continued fanning herself. She only stopped for one brief moment to shuck off her coat, which took several attempts.

This couldn’t all be a coincidence. Her parents are back in her life right in time for someone to throw a pipe through the window of the store, then a phone call with an entirely private ID drops the name of her father and an Anti-Mark group’s well-used alias. And it was all after she had started to meet her soulmates. Were her parents following her for so long that they were able to tell when she met one of the twenty-three marks?

Did they hate the marked so much, they were now a part of that awful group?

Her soulmates!

The connection they shared was getting stronger each time Iris met a new identity within Kevin’s body. It had come to the point that she was able to feel Barry’s discomfort after realizing Iris had met the child among them. They had mentioned to her that her fear from the night she saw her father’s note caused them discomfort, and the night she had experienced the vivid nightmares from her past had actually drawn Patricia in at a run.

She had no doubt they could feel her panic now.

The realization that she was not the only one affected helped to draw her back to the present a bit more, continuing to fan herself as she took deep, steadying breaths. The binder shook between her hands, but her fingers were clenched so tightly, there was no concern it would fall. Her vision steadily cleared, the fogginess receding from the edges of her sight while her laboured breathing began to normalize. Even though she had her bottle of water sitting on the desk, she didn’t trust her hands to reach for it. She would probably end up wearing most of the water if she tried drinking now.

Her phone buzzed on her desk, causing an instinctual flinch, before she spotted the name.

Kevin Crumb.

The fact that they were calling using Kevin’s cellphone showed the importance of the need to contact her. Otherwise, she would have gotten the alert for an email. Dropping the binder to the desktop, she scooped up her phone in both hands—one handed probably would have resulted in it hitting the floor and smashing.

“I’m alright,” she assured immediately, not even bothering with a hello. She knew why they were calling. She pondered briefly in an attempt to remember who was supposed to be working. “I’m sorry, BT, did I interrupt your work?” She was sure the rough sound of her voice did nothing to assuage his concern.

“Screw work, work can wait. What happened, Doll? Felt like you were having a heart-attack.” She could detect the slightest tremor in his voice. It made her heart clench, both with displeasure at her own panic episode causing them distress and because she knew she was cared for so deeply by someone—by many.

Leaning back in her chair, she used her shoulder to better support the phone as she tucked her ice-cold fingers between her thighs in an attempt to warm them. “I got a call. Jessica handed me the phone, I didn’t even really register the private contact information before I answered it. The man said he worked for ‘Mark Sans’ and had a message from Howard. I hung up before he could continue.”

BT swore on the other line. “Mark Sans, that’s a name that group of psychos use, right?”

“Yes. And my father’s name is Howard Mayfair.”

“Iris,” BT sighed, worry dripping from that one word. “Doll, you gotta call the cops. What’s the name a’ that guy who did your statement?”

“Montez,” she answered quietly. The adrenaline was bleeding out of her system and leaving her body feeling like lead. “Officer Montez. He gave Barry his card, I don’t think I have it-”

BT grunted. “One sec,” he murmured, before shuffling came through the phone like static. “It’s in our wallet.” Much like the cellphone, it did not make much sense to have a different wallet for every alter—the cards for the bank account, ID and other important pieces of information were kept in one simple wallet. How it was carried varied person to person, but it made their lives easier when the credit cards or work ID weren’t switching to a new wallet every day. “You got a pen?”

Iris looked to her desk. She had a pen and a stack of post-it notes. However, the tremor was still running down her arms; she doubted her hands would be any better if they were removed from where she was pinning them. “Yea, but I think I’m shaking too much right now. Give me another minute?”

“All the time in the world, Doll.”

To distract her, he began telling her about his day in a soft, soothing voice. It never raised, even when she could tell something had frustrated him or he was mocking someone who had yelled at another worker—a mother throwing a fit about something being closed. Iris was sure that if it had been a better day, he could very well have soothed her straight to sleep.

Thankfully, it was enough to calm her nerves.

So long as she was able to write down the number, that was all that mattered.

“What time’re you off today?”

“It’s a later one today. Jess and I have to break down the shipment, double-check everything’s correct. Probably until six. We’ve gotten pretty good at it.”

“Six it is,” he confirmed.

“What? BT, no! You don’t-”

“Aw, shush. I’m gonna be there whether you want me or not. Come on, we’ll make a little date out of it. Stop for hot chocolate or something.” The guilt returned. She was always throwing them off their schedule because she wasn’t able to handle her own life—past or present. “Besides, this means I get to see you again. Good luck keeping me away.” The happiness in his voice was enough to ease the clench in her chest just a little bit.

It was impossible not to smile along, even if only a small one. “Alright, BT, you win. I’ll see you at six. Come on inside when you get here. It’s way too cold to have you waiting out on the sidewalk.”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

Iris took a few minutes more to collect herself, finally able to take a drink from her water bottle without sloshing the liquid everywhere. She was half-certain that Jess was worrying herself out in the stockroom, but she knew that going out while sheet-white and shaking would do nothing to improve her opinion. Scrolling through her phone to the call she had received just before BT, she found the ‘Private Name’, ‘Private Number’ listed and quickly blocked any future calls or messages from that specific contact.

She knew it wouldn’t be enough to stop them, but it gave her just a bit more peace of mind.

BT arrived slightly earlier than he had discussed with Iris, stepping through the front door shortly before six. There was a younger woman, possibly even a teenager, manning the front cash. She looked at him with such wide, innocent eyes. Actually, it reminded him of Iris.

“I’m here to see Iris?” he offered, unsure, as he stood with his hands in his pockets. The girl’s eyes widened before she nodded.

“BT?” she asked hesitantly. When he nodded, her expression softened a bit and she stepped out from behind the desk. “Iris told me to bring you to the back once you got here. She and Jess should be just about done, so you’ll probably just have to wait in the office.”

He was brought to the back door of the store, a sign declaring ‘Employees Only’ with ‘Alarm will sound’ directly beneath it. Sarah, as her nametag dubbed her, entered a passkey into what looked like a new panel just to the right of the door. She didn’t enter with him, just opened it and stepped aside. He was sure she headed right back to the front desk once he was through the door.

It opened into a decently sized stockroom, tall shelves piled with boxes that carried labels and writings in permanent marker. A few carried Iris’s familiar cursive—he was sure he could pinpoint her writing from hundreds of other cursive samples by this point. He could see a small office to the far left. Next to it was what appeared to be a break/staff room.

“So, these weren’t damaged during shipping?”

The female voice, one he recognized from the day he had met Iris, spoke up from amongst the shelves. Walking slightly further into the room, he was able to peek around the metal shelving to spot Iris and her co-worker Jessica. Iris was standing on a ladder, hefting boxes over her head and onto the higher shelf like they weighed next to nothing. From what he knew the store to sell, he was fairly certain those were boxes filled—or at least damn near it—with books.

He knew Iris was stronger than she looked. Physically and mentally—though emotionally she carried a lot more scars that were still tender from the years of abuse and hardships. However, he had not expected to see her lifting what had to be fifty to seventy-five pounds over her head. And when she was up on her tip-toes—which, had it not been even more dangerous, he would have called out a scolding after seeing.

“The box is fine,” Iris answered Jessica’s previous question. Resting a box on her hip, held in place with on hand, she used the other to shove another one to the side in order to make room. Then, again, lifted the books into their new place with ease. “It must have been damaged during packing. Mark it for return and stack it with the other one.”

“And the paperwork?”

Hopping off the ladder, Iris carefully folded it and tucked it to the side—then secured the metal monstrosity to the shelving with a chain.

“I’ll do that, it only takes a second!” Her voice hitched on her final work as she turned around and finally caught sight of BT. Her entire body jerked with her short yell, halting in her stride. “BT!” she scolded a moment later, her hand flying to her chest as Jessica jumped from the sudden yelp her manager released.

He shrugged his free shoulder. “Sorry, Doll.” His amused expression said otherwise.

Nodding to Jessica, who was giggling away, he opened an arm to Iris. She sighed at him like a scolding, but there was a faint smile on her lips as she stepped into his embrace. Her arm was tight when she wrapped it around his torso, the hand at his back fisting in the material of his coat like she was seeking a lifeline. “Thank you,” she breathed into his chest—too quiet for her friend to hear.

She didn’t want the younger woman to know. He wasn’t sure why, but Iris was a very personal person so he could assume it’s hard for her to open up to others.

“You guys all finished? Or I can go and wait in your office?”

Iris opened her mouth to speak, leaning back from his chest to look him in the eye, but Jessica beat her to it. “You’re in luck, we just finished!”

“What?” Iris blurted out, turning to look at the woman who had a splitting grin spread across her face. Iris had forgotten for a minute that Jessica had—somewhat—met BT before. “I still-”

Jess shook her head again. “You said so yourself, the paperwork only takes a second. I’ve done it before; I promise not to mess up your carefully organized system.”

BT’s arm tightened around her shoulders, drawing her in against his chest again. “Perfect! Where’s your coat, Doll?” Looking down at Iris, he could see a pinch to her expression that had never occurred before. It was like she had sucked on a lemon. At first, he thought it looked cute, but the more he looked at her face the more he realized that it was irritation and fear that caused that look. “Hey, come talk to me,” he prompted quietly, drawing her toward the office he had spotted earlier.

She went willingly but pulled herself from his arms on their way.

Closing the door for privacy, BT watched her pace toward her desk but refuse to sit down. “What did I do?” he asked quietly. He knew it was him. Her co-worker had only been helping him to his end goal—getting her home as soon as possible.

“I won’t change my life again because of them.” BT went to speak but the words caught as she turned to look at him. The bleakness in her gaze silenced his argument. “My parents made all of my decisions for me; what to dress, what to eat, what to say, when to say it. I have work to finish; and it’s my decision to stay here and finish it. I know you care, and I love you for it, but please don’t take my choices away.”

BT’s heart broke as he took in her words—and everything she left unsaid. They hadn’t spoken much about her parents, but it was easy to guess the trauma the left behind. It made him think about when she had finally gone back to her apartment. They all tried to coax her to stay, but no one made the decision for her. She was never forced.

“I’m sorry, Iris. I didn’t…I wasn’t trying to-”

“I know,” she assured quietly, finally returning to him and wrapping her arms around his broad frame. She was soon cocooned in his arms and coat, folded up in the fabric like a security blanket. “I’ve been on my own for so long I don’t think I’ll ever be used to people wanting to care for me, or protect me, but I’m trying. And all I ask is that you leave the decision up to me. Don’t make it for me.”

Ducking down to inhale the scent of her hair, he nodded against the crown of her head. “You’ve got my word.”

The smile she gave him was less sad, but he could still see the fatigue and strain in and around her eyes. The day was taking its toll on her. He was sure that the emotional strain alone was a weight on her shoulders, like trying to carry the world.

“I just need a few more minutes. Mind waiting here?”

Smoothing back the bit of hair that had loosened to fame her face, BT caught her soft eyes and smiled as encouragingly as he could manage. “Take your time, I’m in no rush.” Watching her leave the office felt like he was letting her step into the wolf’s den. But he let her go.

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[bold-writing]

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 24 || Motherly or Lovingly, You're Mine

Words: 3000+

Warnings: None

Previous || Next

~24~

Iris hummed happily as she took a bite of the carefully prepared lasagna. Luke smiled from his place across the table, watching as she took her first bite before even starting on his. When he’d first pulled off the foil covered the dish, he hadn’t known what he was looking at—all he could see was red sauce. The word ‘meatloaf’ had been on the tip of his tongue before Iris peeked around his shoulder and chirped ‘oh! I haven’t had lasagna in forever!’, offering to help him set things while he put it in the oven.

Glad to have dodged the moment of embarrassment, he gladly handed the plates and utensils to Iris.

“So I’m assuming Patricia does most of the cooking?” She cut her section of lasagna carefully, trying to keep the layers from separating as she ate.

Luke hummed for a moment in consideration. “I wouldn’t say the most. A few of the others love to cook, like how Felicia is with her make-up and Barry is with his sketches. Don’t tell them, but I’d say-” he stopped just shy of speaking the name, knowing that he and Iris hadn’t met yet and didn’t know if he should say it.

The small woman seemed to understand the reason for his pause and smiled in assurance. “You can say names. I already know Jade and Hedwig, haven’t met them yet. They may be soulmates I’ve yet to meet, but that doesn’t mean you can’t bring them up. Just gives me something to know about them in advance.” She took another bite as Luke sighed in relief.

“Heinrich,” he finished. “I’d say Heinrich cooks the best. Honestly, he should be the one on grocery detail; the guy uses most of the food anyway.”

Iris smiled as she listened to him, loving how he spoke of the other alters affectionately. Like family. “What’s your favourite dish?” she inquired. “I mean overall, not just cooked by Heinrich.” Saying the name made her tongue feel thick, as it did whenever she said the name of someone she was yet to meet. Originally, she wasn’t sure if she should speak with one of her soulmates about another, but so long as they didn’t mind bringing them up she would be happy to continue the conversation.

Luke sat back as he chewed, looking off to the side wall as he pondered. “That’s a hard one.”

She knew it, too. Whenever someone asked her what he favourite thing was—book, movie, pastime—she always had trouble answering. “How about….what dish are you craving lately?”

The look that came to his face was almost dreamy, and Iris knew he was playing it up for her. “Chicken Fettuccini Alfredo.” Iris made a soft sound of agreement, remembering the last time she had made some for herself when she’d had a day off and a fresh batch of groceries. “Yours?”

“Can’t say a favourite, but I’ve been craving a pulled-pork sandwich,” she admitted, getting a surprised look from Luke. Clearly that wasn’t what he had been expecting. The look made her giggle, covering the bite of food she had just eaten. Once she finished chewing, she elaborated, “I had one at the little deli restaurant some years back called Sweet Meats. They ended up moving to a new location, bit too far for a cab ride, so I haven’t had it in a while. But their sandwiches were to die for. It’s not often I get takeout, but they were definitely one I went for quite often.”

Luke stopped eating as she spoke, leaning his chin on his fist as he smiled at her. “We’ll have to make a day of it sometime. Go up for sandwiches, find something to do while we’re there. That way it’s not a waste of a ride just for something to eat.”

Flushing with happiness, Iris nodded in agreement and busied herself with another bite.

“Even if she doesn’t cook as often as I thought, Patricia makes excellent lasagna.”

Luke flashed another brilliant smile. “I’ll be sure to tell her!”

The small conversations continued as they finished off their plates, Iris immediately declining a second. She had eaten more in one sitting than she normally would in an entire day. The sleep lull had returned to her eyes, however, and Luke immediately refused her offer to wash their dishes in favour of soaking them in the waiting sink.

The original plan was for Iris to head home that night. However, as she grew sleepier with food in her belly the thought of her walking home made him feel sick with worry. It was such a short distance he knew she would refuse to take a taxi, so the compromise came to allow her the chance to sleep over again. Iris had become accustomed to the routine after the several nights she had stayed following the incident at the store.

An open invitation from Felicia gave her a place to sleep, her meagre toiletries still in the bathroom for her use. Barry had an early start the next day for work, and Iris had a later shift that would have her closing the store the next day. It was already nearing midnight by the time Luke walked Iris to Felicia’s room, now wearing a set of her own pajamas that had been left behind.

Iris approached him first, wrapping him in a tight hug as she leaned her cheek in against his pectoral. “Thank you, Luke. It was a wonderful date.”

“We’ll have to do it again soon,” he responded, the smile he wore apparent in his voice.

Returning her tight embrace, cheek resting on the crown of her head, Luke didn’t want to let her go. He wanted to be selfish and keep her with him for as long as he could. But they both had work and he would get an earful from Barry if he did not get to sleep at a decent time. His next exhale came out like a sigh, Iris letting out an answering one before she started to draw back from him.

“I’ll message you tomorrow, okay?”

“Mhm,” she hummed with a smile, before she gently cradled his jaw in her small hands, lifting onto her tiptoes and pressing the ghost of a kiss against his cheek. Her lips lingered, spreading their warmth, and drew back too soon for Luke’s liking.

Her cheeks were flushed a warm pink as she retracted her hands. “Sleep well.”

Catching her chin between his fingers before she could flee, Luke returned her kiss with one of his own, high on her cheekbone and closer to the sensitive skin at her ear. “You too, Sweet.” He swore he could feel the heat from her blush warming her skin, making him grin with the knowledge that he had been the one to put it there.

She slipped into Felicia’s brightly coloured room, shyly casting him one more smile before the door was closed between them.

Neither were able to keep the smile off of their lips as they tucked themselves in for the night, wishing it had not had to end.

Iris had been so tired from the day, she did not dream or wake again until a weight suddenly landed on her legs, one of which had been curled up on top of the blankets to expose her sock-covered foot to the air. Jerking in surprise at the sudden contact, she tried to sit up, but a weight caught around her waist and pinned her in place. An instant of panic seized her heart before she looked down at the familiar shaved head of her soulmates’ body, but which soulmate was perched atop her was an answer she did not have.

Her erratic heartbeat steadily calmed as she leaned to prop herself up on her elbows.

She had only opened her mouth to speak, still unsure what words would come out, before her soulmate rolled abruptly, looking down at her feet. Rendered silent from the sudden and erratic movements, she watched as he moved until his feet were next to hers, revealing they were wearing nearly identical blue socks, hers of a slightly fuzzier quality.

“Look, look! We have matching socks!”

The familiar, and often confusing, words brought a smile to her face as she looked from her small feet to his larger ones. The lisp in his words hinted that she might be speaking with the one named Hedwig, but she didn’t want to make any assumptions and instead wiggled her foot to tap her toes against his.

“Look at that, we’re soulmates and we match,” she responded sweetly, sleep thickening her voice just slightly.

The smile he turned on her was one of pure childish happiness. It warmed her heart to see and, even as tired as she was, she could not help but to return it. Similar to how he must have arrived in the room, he pounced again; bouncing up beside her, Iris threw her hand out to stop herself from tipping off the bed. The antics of her newest soulmate set her off in a fit of giggles. Once she was sure she was not going to overbalance off of the bed, she rolled to face him. He was wearing a tracksuit—black with white and blue accents—and his blue socks.

“I’m Hedwig.” Inches separated them, the light from the hall allowing her the chance to see his face in the otherwise dark room. He looked at her so excitedly, like she had hung the moon. It made her feel so special just from that look alone.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Hedwig. I’m Iris.”

He made a soft scoffing sound, more of a laugh really, and ducked his head briefly before he looked to her eyes again. “I know that, silly!”

Patiently, Iris smiled back. “I’m sure you do,” she assured. “It’s just polite when someone introduces themselves to return the favor.”

Hedwig made an ‘oh’ face as he nodded along. “I also have red socks,” he blurted out suddenly. Iris blinked before she nodded.

“I don’t think I have any red pairs. I’ll have to buy some.”

“Yes!” Then he made a face that Iris knew well; he was trying to repress a yawn.

“It’s awfully early to be awake.” Shifted slightly, Iris laid her head down on the pillow. “Aren’t you tired?” While stopping herself from falling off of the bed, she’d glanced at Felicia’s alarm clock and caught the time that glared 4:12 in bright red. It was too early, even for Barry to have to wake up for work.

Hedwig shook his head rapidly, making an ‘uh-uh’ sound.

She wasn’t sure how old Hedwig was, but she did know that telling a child to go to sleep was often the wrong choice and could be met with resistance. “I’m sleepy,” she said instead, hoping he would give in and go back to sleep as well if he knew she wanted to. “I’m not usually awake this early.”

Even in the minimal light provided, she could tell when he started to pout.

When she had originally caught the hints that one of her soulmates was going to be a child, she had been worried that there might be trouble distinguishing him or her from the adults that made up her other soulmates. However, the comfort came to her just as easily as it had when meeting Patricia and Felicia, embracing the knowledge that some of her soulmates were going to be women. Having so many soulmates, she was sure quite a few were going to be platonic but she honestly could not say whether all of the female ones would fall into that category of not.

Soulmates were not always romantic. They were meant for each other simply because that is what someone needed in their life. A mother or father figure, a child, or a dear friend. Soulmates were whatever someone needed to complete themselves.

Hedwig was still so new to her, and already she could feel the unmistakeable urge to hold him close and protect him from everything the world would use to hurt him. Being a child in a man’s body, she was sure there were times he and the others were ridiculed simply for not understanding.

That protective feeling must have been lacking with her mother and father.

“Would you like to stay here with me? A few more hours of sleep will be good for both of us.” His pout lifted, becoming a shy grin before he nodded his head. Opening her arms, Iris let him shuffle closer and come to rest with his head on her chest. He must have been able to hear her heartbeat with his ear resting over her breast. Wrapping him in her embrace—the broadness of his shoulders making her adjust her hold just slightly—she gently rubbed on hand up and down his back as the other came to cradle the back of his neck.

God, he was like a living furnace. The heat that bled from his body would easily keep her warm.

She could tell when Hedwig drifted to sleep, the soft snores were the dead giveaway, as he cuddled in closer and tucked his hands up near her stomach to keep them warm. She continued to lightly stroke her hand up and down his back, listening to his light snoring and taking in the warm breath that seeped through her clothes to her sternum. Gradually, she lessened her soft stroking until her hand was simply resting on his back

Knowing that Barry had to be awake for six-thirty, the sleep she fell into was a light one. Sometimes she dozed more deeply, but even the faintest shift from Hedwig would wake her again. Occasionally she would crane her head back to see the time, but the hours passed slow until the time Barry’s alarm would have sounded.

It was when she was in one of her dozing states that the body she held suddenly jerked, pulling away. It startled her back into consciousness as well, her eyes wide and her hands lifting to allow her soulmate the chance to move back.

Not Hedwig, then.

With a quick glance down at what they were wearing, her soulmate groaned suddenly and dropped back onto the bed with a hand clapped over their eyes. Iris remained lying in silence, trying to gauge if this was someone she had met before or if this was a new soulmate. “Hedwig,” he mumbled. “I’m so sorry, Iris.” Ah, someone she knew.

“Barry, it’s okay. I found him very endearing.” Propping herself up on an elbow, she offered a smile even as Barry groaned again. Reached out, she slipped her fingers under his palm and drew his hand back from his face. “What’s wrong?” This could not have been because he had snuck in while she was sleeping. He was a child and judging by the lisp he was still too young to think anything more of sleeping beside her than simply sleeping beside her.

There was a twisted feeling in her stomach that she came to realize was not hers. It made her realize just how strong the connect between her and her soulmates was becoming; this was the first time she had felt something from them.

Barry’s lips pursed, like he was fighting the urge to lash out for something. He refused to meet her eyes for a moment, but she waited patiently—still holding his hand in hers—and he finally shifted his focus to her. “He’s nine,” he started. However, as long as Iris waited, nothing else followed the abrupt declaration.

“So?”

“So?” he repeated as his face coloured with surprise. “He’s nine! I share this body with a child.”

His discomfort became clear in an instant and Iris felt her heart clench for him. Was this something he’d been worrying about for long? Was it a concern shared by the other soulmates?

“Barry,” she started carefully, shifted closer and wrapping an arm around his torso so he had no chance to move away from her. “I have twenty-three soulmates. You all share one body. Some are women, some are men, and apparently there’s at least one nine-year-old mixed in. Having Hedwig as one of the others in this body doesn’t change my view of you any more than Felicia or Patricia. You’re all unique to me. I look at you and I don’t see Hedwig or anyone else. Just you.”

He still looked hesitant, but he at least turned his head to look at her.

Smiling with reassurance, she leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his paled lips. “Have you been worrying about this, all this time?”

Barry’s silence was her answer. Her response was to lean over him and kiss him again, lingering this time. He softened under her lips. One of his hands remained in hers, the other lifted to cradle the back of her head. This kiss was different than the one shared under the falling snow. It was not as tentative, like a careful first step into water to test the temperature. This was assurance, proof of feelings for someone that words lack the ability to convey.

His lips were softer than she had been expecting. Parting from him for a moment, she shifted to catch his bottom lip between hers and let the tip of her tongue tease the soft skin gently. The sharp intake of breath told her that her boldness paid off, followed by the increased pressure on the back of her head pulling her closer.

Only when air became necessary did she finally pull back; Barry’s grip loosened until she had no trouble putting the slight amount of distance between them.

“You’re all here with me, Barry. But I don’t look at you and see them as well. I promise. I don’t care what anyone else says, you’re each your own person.”

If she saw his eyes glisten with tears, she didn’t say a word. “Thank you, Iris. Fate couldn’t have given us a better soulmate.”

Her weight leaned onto him again, lips seeking his, when an alarm clock down the hall sounded and shattered the quiet between them. Iris jumped slightly at the sudden sound, then burst into soft laughter at the sour look that briefly coloured Barry’s face.

“Time for work, hun.” Sighing, his head dropped back down onto the pillow.

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[bold-writing]

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 23 || Fly Away, Away on Coloured Wings

Words: 2700

Warnings: none

Previous || Next

~23~

Iris counted the cracks in the sidewalk absentmindedly. A tea warmed her hands and the sun chased away what would otherwise have been a chilly day. The wind swept through and reminded her occasionally that it was not as warm as the sun would like people to believe. She had remembered to pull a knitted hat over her head, keeping in the warmth and protecting her ears from the chilling breeze.

“Iris!”

The shout of her name drew her attention away from the sidewalk, turning to look toward the main gates to the Philadelphia Zoo. Luke was making his way toward her with a blinding smile on his face. He was dressed down compared to her, wearing his jacket from work that had a nametag clipped over the left side of his chest.

Smiling, Iris stood up from her seat and reached over to where she’d kept Luke’s preferred coffee in the cardboard tray. “Hey, Luke. Black, as you requested,” she started, holding out to tray. He reached forward to take both and stepped in closer until he was able to lean forward and ghost a kiss across her chilled cheek.

“Thanks, Sweetie. Hope you weren’t waiting for too long?”

Iris flushed at the caress of lips across her skin, the sensation steadily becoming familiar. “No worries, only a few minutes. It was nice to get some fresh air away from work. How was your day?” she inquired as she reached up to gently tug on the collar of his work coat. The coat itself had the name Kevin stitched into the fabric, but the alters also had an additional clip-on name tag whenever they were working and covered over Kevin’s name so as not to confuse anyone that tried to read it.

“Pretty quiet today,” he shrugged, turning to face the entrance he’d appeared from while holding his arm out to her. She smiled as she looped her arm through his snugly while taking a sip of her perfectly cooled down tea, saving her tongue from scalding. “Middle of the week is always a good catch-up time for us.”

“It’s usually the same at the store,” Iris responded casually as Luke tried to wave at the man operating the entrance gate, still holding his coffee cup and making it more of a ‘cheers!’ gesture. “Jess went home sick this morning so it was a bit short staffed, but it couldn’t have worked out better than on a quiet day.”

“Aw, she alright?” Luke asked immediately, concern colouring his tone and drawing his brows down. he hadn’t even met her and he was already concerned for the young woman that worked with his soulmate—who clearly cared for the other woman.

Iris smiled at his worry and squeezed his arm comfortingly, and happily. “Just a start of the flu, I think. She tried to work but I think she was starting to turn green so I called her a cab, told her to take off tomorrow and let me know if she needs more time.”

Luke leaned down suddenly and pressed a soft kiss against her hair. “I’m glad you’ve got a friend there, Sweetie.”

Iris smiled against the warmth that took over her cheeks. She turned her face in to press her cheek against his shoulder, inhaling the delicate smell that clung to his jacket. It was an interesting mix of scents—some of which she recognized from her time with BT and Barry. Finally, she forced herself to turn away from his chest and looked at the many pathways that split away from the main area of the park, leading to the various enclosures.

“So, where would you recommend first?” she asked instead, looking up at him through her lashes as she smiled invitingly.

“Oh, the Tigers! No brainer!” he answered immediately, motioning to a path to her right.

Smiling at his enthusiasm, she allowed him to guide her along through the quiet Zoo. The combination of a weekday and a cooler day had most people staying away—occupied with work or preferring the warmth of the indoors. It gave them plenty of space and allowed them to linger in front of the enclosures as Luke told her stories from the past decade working at the Zoo. She listened avidly as she leaned against the railings, or into his side when the wind drew her to his warmth.

Some of the other people working at the Zoo paused in Iris’s peripheral when they spotted them. She wanted to look, wondering what could make them pause, but she forced herself to remain with her focus on her soulmate. She was sure that her soulmates’ situation made it impossible to date so it may make for a strange sight to see Luke—or any of the alters—with a woman pressed into their side tightly.

“I mean, I love animals—they’re beautiful, and Barry loves to sit and draw them when he can—but I’d never try and crawl in with them,” Luke was saying as they were sitting at the bench in front of the large Gorilla enclosure.

Iris’s eyes widened as she looked away from the enormous beasts to where he remained to her left, an arm draped over the back of the bench to encircle her shoulders. “Someone tried to what?” she demanded, shock colouring her tone as clearly as her expression conveyed.

“Oh, yea,” Luke answered, looking over with a matching look of disbelief. “We have to make regular rounds along the perimeter fence because kids come along and cut the locks, thinking they can sneak in sometime through the night. Nothing’s happened while I was here, but I’ve heard horror stories of kids sneaking in, thinking the animals were tame and getting badly hurt.”

The look of horror on his soulmate’s face had Luke paling, immediately tightening his arm around her shoulders so he could draw her in closer. “Not here, Iris. We’re really careful about preventing that.”

Nodding slowly, she tried to remove the mental image of some poor teenager getting mauled by a tiger because they thought the animals were somehow tamed. “That’s terrible,” she mumbled, looking back toward the Gorillas. They were huge, and easily capable of harming some unsuspecting kid that might wander into their domain.

“Sorry,” Luke winced. He hadn’t meant to say something so horrifying; it was just a constant concern for them at work and had slipped out. “Iris, I’m sorry.”

He slipped his hand under the hefty weight of her braid, his hands somehow still warm even against the windy chill, to wrap the comforting weight of his hand at the back of her neck. Iris didn’t acknowledge him right away, still looking over to the animals she had previous thought majestic. However, once the warmth registered and settled, she leaned back against the comforting weight as she heaved a long sigh. “It’s not you, Luke. Nothing you did.”

Turning into his hand, she smiled in reassurance while scooting herself closer to him on the bench.

Luke ducked his head bashfully. “Can you tell I’m not very good at this while dating thing?”

She had suspected at her soulmates had as little amount of dating experience as her. It was heartbreaking to have it confirmed, though. Even those with soulmarks would date the odd person or two before the met their destined one—or multiple. “Luke.” Her stronger tone drew his focus, meeting her eyes with the beautiful blue against whiskey. “I’ve never dated. Not once.” Admitting it aloud pulled a burden from Iris’s chest that left her smiling at his shocked expression. “With how I grew up, I never wanted to open myself up to the chance that someone would hurt me. BT was the first person to ever take me out to dinner—on a date or otherwise.”

Luke’s lips parted to speak, but words seemed to escape him and he simply gapped at her for a silent moment.

“I’m just as clumsy at the whole dating thing,” she assured, angling herself on the bench to face him better while she placed a hand on his chest. “So, we’ll fumble along together. And if someone messes up, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

He continued to stare at her in shock for a moment more before his expression transformed with the blinding smile that he sent her way. It lifted the weight that had settled over her chest and Iris was powerless against smiling back.

“So, where would you recommend we go next?”

“Aviary?” he proposed, still smiling brilliantly.

Iris bounced where she sat, her smile growing from reassuring to pure happiness. “I love birds! Yes!”

Luke stood quickly and hauled her up to her feet, getting a chirp of a laugh from Iris before he was turning them in a new direction and walking her down another path that led toward some of the housing structures.

Majority of the birds were tropical, requiring a warmer climate. Iris was quite pleased by that since she was able to shuck off her coat and chase the chill from her bones. Luke stuck close by, but he let Iris flit from display to display, reading the plaques in front of each enclosure as she looked in at the brilliantly coloured birds. Iris smiled as she watched the birds fly around their habitats, darting in and out of the trees.

There was an option to go in and stand among the birds, but she opted not to—unable to shake the thought of the birds flying overhead and possibly messing her coat.

“Do you have a favourite?” Luke asked when he came to stand in front of the Rainbow Macaws, the large parrots currently preening as they pulled their feathers delicately through their beaks. She stared in awe at how gentle they were with such large, sharp beaks.

“Hm, I don’t think I have one. They’re all so beautiful. Such magnificent colours. Do you have a one?” She glanced at the tall man over her shoulder, seeing that his soft blue eyes were settled on her rather than the enclosures. The attention made her cheeks warm.

Smiling down at her, he gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her over to another exhibit. He’d noticed it when he’d been in a few days before to replace a rusting hinge on one of the employee access doors. The enclosure was a bit smaller, as were the birds inside, with bright balls of gold fluff flitting about inside.

Iris leant into Luke’s side as she looked down at the placard. Golden Palm Weaver was titled above a small summary of the birds. The picture showed a smaller bird with beautiful golden feathers and a crown of whiskey reddish gold encircling the face of the bird.

“The reddish hue around the face reminded me of your eyes,” he answered semi-sheepishly.

Iris blinked in surprise for a moment, looking at the picture of the bird then up at the little creatures inside the enclosure. She hadn’t noticed the similarity before. It brought the flush back to her cheeks as she fought against the bright smile that wanted to break across her features. “They’re beautiful,” she mumbled bashfully. His arm tightened around her shoulders, pulling her in closer to his side as he repressed the urge to chuckle at her timidity.

“So why do you like birds so much?”

Her head came to rest against his chest as she continued to watch the small birds in the enclosure, her expression soft.

“They can fly,” she answered. “Their wings and their feathers are so beautifully composed, it’s amazing to think that something like that happens naturally.” Her head bowed slightly in the next moment, obscuring his view of her face. “And their marks are beautiful. Everyone always talks about the brilliant or intricate colours and marks being so pretty and attractive.”

Luke’s heart broke a little.

Turning to press his lips to the top of her head, he inhaled the soft scent that wafted off of her hair. “I can’t teach you how to fly, but I can assure you that your marks are gorgeous; we all love them. Scars and all.”

They spent the next thirty minutes looking over each of the individual bird enclosures and the plaques situated in front of each. Luke never let her stray too far from his hold, keeping his arm around either her shoulders or her waist as she read the plaques to him or gushed about the beautiful colour of each of the birds.

The staff that passed them by would greet him with either a silent nod or a brief shout in greeting on their way passed. Iris always ducked her head down or turned away to pretend as though she was reading or marvelling at the birds. These were his coworkers, people who saw him day after day, and she wasn’t sure they even knew he had met his soulmate.

“They know about you,” he finally declared when he’d noticed her duck her head down the third time.

Whiskey eyes snapped up to him, coloured with her surprise.

“I mean, how can a guy not brag a bit when he finds his girl?” he admitted bashfully, then stuttered when he realized what he’d said. “Not that…not that you’re mine or anything but-”

Iris took pity on him and gently snagged the edge of his coat, tugging him down just enough to ghost a kiss against the corner of his jaw. “Only if you’re mine, too.”

His cheeks flushed against his will, but the smile that lit up his face made it easy to ignore the burning in his cheeks. “Every bit of me, Sweet.”

Again, Iris ducked her head down bashfully. However, Luke could still see the beautiful rose colour that had taken over her cheeks. At least they matched, blush for blush.

Continuing to tour throughout the rest of the Zoo, Iris’s hand stayed fitted snuggly inside Luke’s. He never relinquished it, even when he would move to point at something, he lifted their joined hands and only freed one finger with which to point. It made Iris’s pulse speed erratically, her happiness manifesting with the simple gesture.

Her fascination with the colouring of the birds continued on to the snake enclosure as well; although, she refused politely when the handler told them it was nearly feeding time. They were beautiful animals, but she was not sure she could stomach seeing a baby bunny—dead or not—being fed to the long, elegant creatures.

They finished their journey back at the front entrance where they had started, Iris smiling tiredly as she leaned heavily into his side. Starting the day with work and then following it up with several hours of walking throughout the Zoo had leeched away the last her strength. Luke had no complaints, however, and leaned down to press a kiss against the top of her head whenever the desire struck him. The city was dark around them when they stepped through the front gate—Luke sharing a short wave with the guard watching everyone come and go—and Iris made an adorable attempt at supressing a yawn.

“It got colder,” she mumbled into her coat collar, leaning into him more.

“Nice and warm downstairs,” he assured, leading her to the entrance she had used the past days when staying with her soulmates. The entrance she and Barry had shared their kiss in front of as the snow blanketed them. “Patricia cooked something for dinner, left me instructions to throw it in the oven but warned me about peeking under the lid.”

Iris laughed softly to herself, imagining Patricia’s neat, meticulous writing expressing her warning clearly. She had no problem picturing what the letter would look like. Her mark had appeared so many years ago; she has since traced her finger endlessly over the words on the back of her palm. Iris was sure she could identify all of her soulmates’ printing at a glance by this point—whether she knew the name to each mark or not.

“So you didn’t peek?” she teased, tipping her chin up so she could meet the softness of his gaze. He looked so happy, the streetlights catching his dimples in shadow as he smiled down at her.

“And call on Pat’s wrath?” he joked, recoiling slightly as though the very thought was frightening. “I’m not that curious.”

Iris laughed again, ducking her head to press her temple against Luke’s shoulder, welcoming his warmth and feeling his body shake with his own mirth.

Previous || Next

[bold-writing]

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 22 || Softened, Waves to Glass Shards

Words: 3900

Warnings: None

Previous || Next

~22~

Her employers had apparently saw fit to surprise her when she returned to work, the mess having been completely cleaned and the front window replaced, with an old piano they had seen for sale online. The wood was aged and scraped, the children of the previous owners having scratched little characters and names into the legs, but it made her smile none the less. Damaged and aged, it was magnificent. “We haven’t had a chance to arrange for someone to come and tune it yet, but we’ll have someone stop by this week,” Melissa assured softly as she stood next to Iris, her hand on the younger woman’s shoulder as she smiled down at her softly.

Iris had mentioned time and again over the years that she dearly wished to own a piano at some time in her life—this was as close as she was probably ever going to actually get, and it made her heart soar to know that they cared so much for her.

“Thank you, both of you, so much,” she gushed in return as she looped her arm around Melissa’s shoulders in a one-armed embrace, then turned to her husband and did the same. “I think it fits in perfectly, too. Finally got the one thing that this corner needed.” The piano was situated deep in the store, near the back corner where a few comfortable chairs were placed about sporadically, a coffee-table in the middle, and the new piano taking up residence in the corner.

“You’ll have to test it out once it’s ready, check out the acoustics,” Gerald added a moment later, shifting over to wrap an arm around his wife as they gazed down at Iris as though she was a child they had raised; a prideful, parental glisten in their eyes. Iris thanked them again and once more when they were on their way out of the store. The others asked about her wellbeing as they arrived for work, each getting mostly the same answer. Jessica gave Iris a look that told her she knew something else was up with the older woman—she was much too calm, almost happy, after having been through someone attacking the store.

Returning to her work, Iris was somewhat relieved to have returned to the usual routine—even if a part of her desperately missed the time she had been given to spend with her soulmate. Barry had taken the day off of work the day after the incident, allowing her and Felicia to spend the day together, but he had to go back to work the next day while she was kept off of work to relax and recuperate.

She had read and cooked, spending the day in her apartment before she returned with BT to the zoo, the man having taken over the work-load for the day, and laughed as he ooed and awed over her soup that had been left-over from the day before. She had received a call from her employers, telling her that the surveillance cameras had caught the car driving away, but it was such an old system that it was too blurry to make out the person driving or the license plate.

Barry had already arranged for her to stay in his room another night, bowing to her affirmation that she would be returning to her own apartment in time for her return to work. She could tell he was reluctant to do so, and her email had been overwhelmed with the others trying to persuade her to stay longer as well. However, no one forced her hand and for that she was thankful. Not that she could ever imagine any of them actually forcing her into anything, but it was still reassuring to know that they were kind enough to care without being oppressive.

Jessica finally cornered her when Iris was in the office working on paperwork and it was the younger woman’s scheduled lunch. She scooted her way into the room and put herself right next to Iris’s peripherals, wearing an expectant look that forced a laugh from Iris. She tried to keep her composure, but Jessica’s excited look of ‘tell me!’ was too much.

“I met another soulmate,” she finally caved with a smile. Jessica squealed discretely, throwing her hands up in celebration.

“Iris, that’s fantastic! Must’ve made all of this mess much easier to bear, huh?” Iris nodded along in agreement, wishing that she could tell Jessica just how much her soulmates were making everything easier to bear. She had confided in the woman with a fraction of her soulmates, a feat she never thought she would make, but she wasn’t sure she could tell Jessica the full extent of her situation.

Not only the fact that her soulmates were all housed in one body, but also that there were twenty-four of them.

Felicia’s presence in her life had made it easier, all of them had, but that didn’t stop the nagging feeling that came to her stomach when she went to the front area of the store, or when a car passed slightly slower than the others. It was like the situation with her father all over again; not knowing who had done this or why. For all she knew, it was still her father deciding what new ways he was going to torture her. She wouldn’t put it past him, or her mother, to vandalize property.  Or she could have just been terribly unlucky to be somewhere that some kids decided to do something illegal.

“It’ll still be nice to know what the police find. Who has something against a bookstore?” Iris wondered aloud, trying to derail her thoughts as she turned back to the computer and clicked on the items that she needed to print for their inventory.

Jessica hummed in agreement before she spotted the time on the computer and slipped back. “I’m going to run down the street for my break, but I promise I’ll be back on time, okay?”

“Sure, I know you’re always clocked back in on time,” Iris assured with a calm wave of her hand. As Jessica turned into the adjacent room for her things, she called out again, “And take your jacket!”

“Yes, mom!”

Shaking her head with a smile, Iris collected the sheets from the printer and splayed them in front of her while recollecting her pen. At least with her first day back, there was lots of work that she needed to do and it kept her mind occupied and let the hours rush past without her even noticing. She was beginning to marvel at how much she had actually worked before she met Barry, and subsequently the others. Perhaps it was because she now had something to look forward to, but she couldn’t imagine working so many days in a row anymore.

Knowing that she might have time to meet up with one of her soulmates at the end of a day was steadily becoming the driving force to her work-ethic. Some days were harder to focus than others, excited as she was to have her shift end, but it was getting easier and easier. She had found a dear friend in Felicia the past several days; it was nice to have another female to speak with that wasn’t technically her employee. Jessica was a sweetheart for being there for Iris, but it was different when she could be completely herself and honest about her situation.

She desperately wanted to speak with Jessica, full honesty and disclosure about her soulmates, but there was something in her heart that made her want to keep it quiet. It was almost as though she wanted to keep it just between herself and her soulmates—and Dr. Fletcher—as something that was solely for them. She still wanted to prove to the world that her marks exposed the truth about the alters, they were real people, but she wanted it to be just them for a little while longer.

More than half of her soulmates were still unknown to her, so she was in no rush to expose them just yet.

Continuing to switch between her computer and the pages that were sprawled across her desk, Iris could feel a familiar cramping muscle beginning between her shoulders and rolled them with a sigh. Jessica poked her head back in when she returned, getting a soft hum from Iris as she was deeply focused on what she was typing out at the moment. They only had a short time before close so she was trying to finish her work for when everyone had left.

If felt unnatural to stay in the store alone after what had happened the last time; not that her employers allowed that anymore, even if it was completely dead at the end of a long day. Luke and BT had both sent her emails in all capitals that forbade her from working alone; the frown that had come over her face had Felicia muttering an ‘uh-oh’ before she started to laugh. When Iris had asked what was so amusing, she’d proclaimed that the guys may have put their foot in their mouths for the first time.

Iris did not take well to being ordered to do anything, or ordered not to do something in this case, and Felicia knew that from the hours they had spent talking. Iris had told her about her younger years and her childhood, unfortunate as it was, but skirted around some of the darker parts of her past that she wasn’t quite ready to bring up just yet. None of her soulmates knew the same pieces of her past—Patricia and Barry probably knew the most, but even they weren’t aware of some pieces that the others had been privy to.

Sitting back from her work, Iris flexed and stretched her fingers a couple of times to try and get the stiff feeling out of her joints—a few pops and cracks sounded as she did so, telling her in that instant that she had been working in one position for too long.

The tight muscles in her back gave a faint spasm when she straightened herself and rolled her shoulders backward, issuing a faint groan of discomfort. She was looking forward to a warm shower once she was home, and a tea to help her finally relax. Saving her work in Excel and closing the programs, she began the careful and meticulous process of cleaning up her papers and putting them back in the proper files and folders.

Leaving the office in search of Jessica, she found her already locking the front door and turning off the neon open sign that sat in the small window above the door. Iris busied herself with removing the cash drawer from the register, leaving the printouts to Jessica as she counted through the bills and change, writing everything out as she went. They had closed the store enough times that they didn’t need to speak to one another while they counted and switched papers back and forth with a calculator sitting between them.

“And we’re done,” Iris sighed as she snapped the book closed, turning to tuck the receipts in their proper place. Jessica collected the drawer of the register as Iris snatched her keys, flicking the lights off as they passed the switch to head for the safe in the back office.

“So, what’s this new soulmate of yours like?” Jessica finally asked, her patience having surpassed what Iris expected, as they were pulling on their coats. Everything was locked up, all of the paperwork for the day had been completed and both women were excited to be leaving for home.

Iris pursed her lips as she paused a moment before offering a shy smile, “She’s amazing.”

Jessica was still for only a moment before her expression brightened with a warm grin. “She? Well, what’s her name? And please tell me she’s the one that did your hair!”

Iris’s cheeks warmed while she nodded along. “Her name is Felicia, and yes, she’s always excited to do hair and makeup, which I never really did anything—as you know—so she’s had a lot of fun doing mine the past few days.”

Jessica did an excited wiggle as she followed Iris toward the back door, her purse over her shoulder and her scarf and coat wrapped tightly around herself. Iris’s nagging seemed to have gotten through to her because Jessica was finally wearing appropriate clothing for the weather on particular days. Iris set the alarm and locked the door behind them, Jessica waiting outside in the chill before she helped the smaller woman to close the door and click the lock in place.

“Any plans for the evening?”

“A nice long shower,” Iris sighed, rolling her shoulders again as she tucked her hands—and keys—into her coat pockets. Jessica hummed softly in agreement as they turned to leave the back alley, merging into the people already walking home for the evening. “You?”

“Meeting some old friends from school,” she answered easily, almost swaying happily at finally being out of work. “Do…do you want to come?” she offered a moment later, glancing over to Iris as though worried she would scare the woman away with her offer.

Smiling in assurance, Iris shook her head ‘no’. “Thank you for the offer, Jess. But I think I’m just going to try and settle in and sleep.”

A small frown found its place on Jessica’s usually happy expression. “Are you having trouble sleeping? Because of…what happened?” Shrugging one shoulder sadly, Iris confirmed the younger woman’s worries without actually saying a word. “Oh, Iris.”

Iris waved her off calmly. “It’s okay, really. They’re getting better, and I do sleep for most of the night. I’ll be fine! Everyone’s done so much after what happened, I honestly can’t ask for anything more. This last bit is…for me to work out.” Jessica smiled sadly before she saddled up next to Iris and looped her arm through hers, linking them together as they continued down the street. She asked rapid-fire questions about Iris’s soulmates, gushing over how sweet her meeting with BT had been and looking forward to the chance of meeting the others. Iris wasn’t sure how that would turn out, actually, since they all wore the same face.

She might be able to see the differences in them easily enough, but she was sure others struggled with it a bit more.

Finally, they came to the intersection that would separate them and they offered farewells and hugs before Iris jogged to reach the other sidewalk before the light changed again. The evening wind was beginning to pick up, causing her to duck further into her coat for warmth as she quickened her pace to get back to her own apartment. Barry had another staff meeting this evening, so he was going to be working a bit later than her.

Quickly scaling the stairs to her floor, Iris unlocked her apartment—looking anywhere but the section of her door that had once held her father’s note—and slipped silently inside.

The smell of her morning tea still lingered throughout the small space, coaxing her to breathe deeply before she carefully removed her coat and hung it up in its usual place. Leftovers from the night before were already packaged and waiting in her fridge, needing to be reheated, but the thought of a warm shower to loosen up her muscles was much more appealing.

Leaving her dinner until later, Iris entered her small washroom and shucked her clothes off after turning the shower on to a decent—though slightly warmer than average—temperature.

The small space was immediately enveloped in steam, fogging up her mirror and making the air thick and humid. Stopping for a moment, Iris leaned her lower back against the cool counter and heaved a sigh. Her fingers swiped beneath her eyes tiredly. It did nothing to wake her up or relieve the fatigue that was weighing on her bones. She had returned to the habit of trying to drink a variety of calming tea before bed, but it was never enough.

She’s slept better while staying with her soulmates, but she’d noticed that her best nights were when they were within reach. Her nights with Barry close by, or when Patricia had remained after her nightmare. She’d fallen asleep once when she and Felicia were sitting on the couch at her place, talking in quiet tones as they sipped at hot chocolate Felicia had made. She hadn’t even been aware she’d begun to doze, but her soulmate had been watching her energy waver for a while and had been keeping an eye on her. The hot chocolate had been rescued from her hands before Iris had the chance to drop it and a blanket had been tucked around the brunette for warmth.

Iris wasn’t the kind of person to normally nap, and she was shocked how often she’d fallen into an easy sleep around her soulmates. Felicia especially had a knack for soothing her to sleep, calmly playing with her hair and stroking fingertips with just the right pressure down against her scalp.

Slowly, Iris was being enveloped in comfort and warmth. It made going home to a cold apartment that much harder.

Inhaling the humid steam of the shower that had filled the room, Iris finally pushed away from the counter and slipped beneath the stream of water. Her skin stung momentarily as the hot water made contact, but it soothed away quickly and she could swear the heat penetrated right down to the muscle. The ache that had settled between her shoulder-blades finally seemed to melt, allowing her back to relax for the first time all day.

Pulling her elastic from the end of her braid, she carefully began pulling her fingers through her hair to undo the tightly bound plait. Tipping her head back under the water, she sighed in relief to finally have her hair freed. It wasn’t until that moment that she’d realized the tightness of her braid had probably done her no favours. She’d had no headache, but the loosening of her hair made her feel like the last of the tension she had been carrying for the day finally let go and washed away down the drain.

Taking longer than she had for a while to wash her hair and scrub down her pale skin, she was left a pleasant pink from the combination of a soapy loofa and hot water. Turning her body this way and that, letting the water remove the last of the suds from her skin, she stroked her hand along the prominent scars left through her marks. The one on her right thigh suddenly felt substantially softer.

Leaning her back against the warmed shower tiles, her thumb continued to trace up and down the scar absently. She was sure that it had once felt rough; proud flesh that had been split and tortured back together with needle and thread. However, the silvery line seemed like it had smoothed out to better match the surrounding flesh.

Had it been in her head? Did the memories attached to the scar somehow make it feel rougher than it really was?

After taking one more turn around beneath the water to ensure all soap was washed away, Iris finally shut the water off in an effort to force herself from the comfort of the hot, steamy cubicle of her shower. She flinched as she remembered that she hadn’t turned on the little heater out in the main room, meaning the comforting cocoon of warmth was going to be abruptly broken when she opened the bathroom door.

Towelling herself down in an attempt to remove as much water from herself as possible, the petite woman carefully wrapped herself in the terrycloth softness before her focus was drawn away by the familiar chime she had set on her phone to alert her of any incoming emails. She rarely received an email from anyone other than her soulmates, since everyone else she knew—even her employers—would either call or text her. Tucking the upper corner of the towel in as securely as possible, she opened the door in a rush and quickly slipped out into the main room in search of the phone she had left in her coat pocket.

“Oh!” she gasped against the shock of cold, quickly clicking on the heater as she passed, before she resumed her rush for her phone. Goosebumps almost immediately erupted across her damp, exposed skin. Pulling the aforementioned  phone from her coat, hung carefully as it always was once she returned home, she brought the screen to life and looked at the listed notifications.

She must not have heard it, but her phone had gone off several times since she’d returned home. Emails from Patricia, Luke and BT were waiting for her, each only a few minutes apart. An uncontrollable smile softened her features as she read their names. Her little bubble of happiness made her momentarily forget how cold it was in the room. A small droplet of water fell from her hair and hit the screen, blurring Patricia’s name for a moment, and brought reality back to Iris.

Tossing the phone onto her bed, she began pulling warm clothes out for the night. Dressing with haste and using her towel to twist her hair up and help it dry, she curled herself up on her bed with her legs crossed and feet tucked beneath her thighs for warmth.

The little heater was slowly doing its job.

Opening Patricia’s first, she smiled at the older woman’s motherly concern as she asked if she had enough food and hoping she was eating a good dinner. Do not overwork yourself, Iris. Please, promise me you’ll take all the time you really need for yourself. I’m sure you are an amazing employee, but they can manage—your health must always come first.

Warmed by Patricia’s concern, Iris typed back a response assuring her that she still had an additional day off a week and explained, in detail, what she had made herself for dinner the night before; which reminded her, she needed to toss her leftovers in the oven so they had adequate time to reheat properly. She also told her about the gift her bosses has surprised her with upon arriving at work. She was sure her excitement was palpable through her typed words.

BT was checking up on her in a similar fashion, as well as discretely slipping in the question about whether she would be cooking for them again soon. Apparently her soup had been a hit among those who had the chance to eat it, which made her wish she had made more; there had maybe been leftovers for six, so not everyone was able to have a bowl. She offered a promise to make more for everyone soon, the next time she visited their home, and wished him a good night.

Luke, unlike the other two, had an additional message at the end of his email.

Would you like to go out on a date with me? Dinner, tea, a movie? Anything.

Iris’s heart felt as though it stuttered in her chest before a smile lit across her face until she was sure her eyes had laugh-lines creased at the corners.

Previous || Next

[bold-writing]

The One With Silver Scars || 11 || Glorious

Words: 2600

Warnings: Mention of Abuse

Previous || Next

~11~

She had already assumed that Dennis had Dissociative Identity Disorder, but she had not realized the extent until he guided her to a bathroom that had twenty-three toothbrushes on several holders across the counter, each with their own cup or slot. Some were the same colour, but had a letter etched across the back, differentiating it from its twin. A large cluster of towels hung on hooks in the back of the door—not nearly as many as the brushes, but more than any one person would need. A collection of male and female soaps covered the rim of the tub and a shelf that was installed in the corner.

This was D.I.D., but on such an extreme level she had no possible way of assuming its extent before now.

The disorder and the lived-in appearance were so different from the bathroom she had been using, shared with the other three who cared not a bit about keeping it clean.

Dennis had brought her here, handing her a neatly folded towel as he avoided her eyes. "You've got drywall dust in your hair," he explained, suddenly shying away from contact with her as he lingered just outside of the bathroom door. "I'll…I'll bring you some clean clothes." He motioned toward the shower. "Use whatever you'd like, take your time. I'll leave the clothes outside for when you're done. There's a hamper there for the towel."

Before he could leave, and before Adelais could doubt her actions, she reached out and caught his sleeve. His gaze lowered to her hand first, then finally lifted to meet her green eyes for the first time since he'd lowered her from his arms. "Thank you," she mumbled, unsure of herself.

Everything she knew was how to avoid making someone else mad; follow their orders, make no mistakes that will draw their anger. Now, the dynamic between her and Dennis had shifted. Before, she only spoke when spoken to, she did what she was told without question; it was also in the belief that she might leave this place relatively unscathed.

Now, those intentions had changed. Was she still a prisoner? If so, she would be considered a voluntary one.

He said nothing in return, only offering a nod as he turned and left. The material of his shirt slipped through her limp fingers. Left standing in the bathroom, she took the chance to look around at the obviously lived-in room.

It felt wrong, somehow. Stripping down from her dirty clothes and stepping into a shower that was so obviously not her own. There was only one bottle of shampoo mixed in among the large amount of body-washes—unsurprisingly, considering the state of Dennis's shaven head. She used it sparingly, barely enough to properly wash her hair. Without a conditioner in sight, she knew she'd be picking through the knots in her hair for a fair while.

Even after being invited, using someone else's belongings made it feel as though she was trespassing.

Internally, the little clock ticked away inside her mind as it warned her; she was taking too long. She needed to be faster—her mother would be angry. Ignoring that voice only worked so well or for so long. The longer she lingered, testing that internal ticking, the more it made her skin itch uncomfortably. Like there was something lingering over her shoulder, putting all of her little hairs on end. Finishing her shower in what most would still consider record time, felt to her like a lifetime—ten whole minutes, when had she last showered for a solid ten minutes?

Standing on a well-worn bathmat as the chill of the room pebbled her skin, she clutched that tightly folded towel to her chest. The scent of the tropical, feminine shampoo filled the room. Her skin was pinkened from the extended time scrubbing beneath the hot spray of water, pads of her fingers wrinkling after prolonged time beneath the spray. Had her body adapted to the short showers she was forced to endure? Was it normal for someone's skin to react after only ten minutes in the shower?

Rolling the pads of her thumbs and index finger together felt foreign, disconcerting.

She supposed these sorts of things were common knowledge to other people. Not to her.

Adelais carefully started to towel off the moisture on her skin. The welt on her glute was slightly raw from the material of her pants being forced down across it, and her knees were already taking on a blue and purple hue from her collision with the floor. Sitting on the exposed section of tub—probably only bare in order to act as a step in and out—she extended her legs in front of her to look over the ruined skin she carried.

Her knees would heal, but the other scars that were left from past punishments would remain forever.

Biting her lip against the urge to tear up—again—she took a deep, shuddering breath.

What was it about her scars that could have changed Dennis's mind? Or the mind of whoever was coming for them?

Thinking back, other than when he had snatched Marcia and dragged her from the room, he had never caused any of them real harm. The bruise on her arm would heal, Marcia was no worse for wear physically, and they had all been brought to that room, from the car, without an injury of which to speak.

Did he understand on a personal level what it was like for her? Perhaps that is why he was careful not to abuse any of them while they were in his care.

A knock on the door broke her from her thoughts. Still only wearing the towel, Adelais panicked for a moment and looked around the room. Her dirty clothes were still sitting on the floor next to the door—unsure what else to do with them, she had folded them and tucked them out of the way to ask Dennis about after he returned for her.

"Dear? Is everything alright?"

Not Dennis. Patricia.

Edging toward the door, Adelais kept herself tucked mostly behind it while cracking it open. Peeking around the wood, she met the English woman's motherly gaze through the space available. "Yes, I'm sorry I took so long." The cold air from the hallways rushed into the room. She repressed a shiver and shuffled slightly further behind the door, as though it would keep the cold air from getting to her.

Patricia's expression grew slightly pained. "Oh, dear, no. I just heard the shower stop and you never came to collect the clothes I brought for you. I wanted to be sure you weren't hurt. Dennis said you had quite the tumble." Authentic concern instead of anger was such a confusing concept to her, Adelais could only blink at the other woman. She had no clue how else she could react; should she say thank you? Or apologize?

Her internal turmoil caught Patricia's attention and her already sad expression became downright heartbroken. This poor, abused woman really had no clue how to react to kindness.

"Here, dear. Something clean to wear." Still hiding behind the door, Adelias barely reached around to grab the clothing with one hand. The exposure of her arm, shoulder and part of her chest gave Patricia enough of a glance to take stock of some of her injuries. The collar of bruises that Dennis had told her about, a handprint on her upper arm that looked too fresh to be the cause of her home life, and a few hints of healing-pink and aged-silver scars.

"Thank you," Adelais breathed out, bringing the clothes in toward her chest and masking the bruises that Patricia had been eyeing.

Offering the blonde a smile, Patricia stepped back. "Take your time, dear. Come out when you're ready."

Closing the door between them again, Adelais moved over to the sink and placed the stack of clothes on the counter space left available. A soft, dark blue shirt with long sleeves sat directly on top. It was very obviously a man's; knowing how much larger Dennis is, she already knew it would hang off of her body like a child in their parent's clothes.

Removing the towel from her body in favour of wrapping up her hair, she began pulling on the new articles.

The first glide of the shirt across her skin caused her to shiver—it was soft and smelled of fresh laundry. Falling down to the tops of her thighs, welts and scars were caressed with the soft fabric. Adelais was fairly certain it was the kindest treatment her body had ever been given. Even her soft scarf wasn't as gentle on her body as this man's shirt.

Pulling on the pants proved that she was still much shorter than him, having to roll the material at the ankles. Thankfully, the sweats came with draw strings, or her malnourished body wouldn't have had enough meat to keep them up alone. It was a strange sensation to have no underwear or bra beneath her clothes, but at least she was wearing something clean.

Unravelling the towel from her hair, she tried—in vain—to carefully card her fingers through the strands. A lack of conditioner had left her hair with knots and tangles littered throughout, tugging numerous times with each pass. Not wanting Patricia to come knocking again—she would have taken much too long if that were the case—Adelais gave up on tugging through her hair and just twisted it over one shoulder to keep it aside.

Depositing the towel in the hamper, as Dennis had instructed, she collected her old clothes and opened the door.

At first, she was alone in the hallway. The air outside was much cooler and her once-warm skin pebbled against the chill. Adelais lifted her clothes up against her chest in an attempt to mask the way her nipples visibly pressed against the shirt from the chill, no bra or undershirt to hide the cold's effect.

"Ah, dear, how do you feel?"

Unable to control the reaction, Adelais jerked at the sudden voice and her body locked up like she'd touched a live wire. Patricia immediately hurried toward her with a soft 'sh, sh, shh' as she placed a placating hand on her shoulder. The crisp scent of chamomile tea wafted on the air that carried after her; it was a scent that Adelais knew well, since it was her mother's drink of choice every night before bed. She had gotten very good at measuring the leaves, heating the water perfectly and never letting it steep for too long.

"I'm sorry," Adelais forced out around a suddenly dry throat.

"Now, whatever for? I shouldn't have startled you like that, the apology is mine. Come now, I've made you a nice cup of tea to have while I prepare you something good to eat. So thin, we'll need to put some meat on those bones of yours." Patricia was giving her that soft smile again as she gently stroked her damp hair that sat tight against her skull.

Adelais knew better than to decline and gave a mute nod.

While turning to head back in the direction she had come, Patricia noticed the clothes that Adelais had clutched tight to her chest. "Let me take those, they'll need a good washing. The kitchen's just through there, go on in and have a seat. Off you pop."

It took a bit of coaxing to get her to relieve her grip on her clothes, mostly because of embarrassment as she immediately wrapped her arms across her chest. Patricia acted as though she hadn't seen a thing and gently nudged Adelais toward the kitchen with a soft push to her back. She knew for a fact that her nipples were still standing out against the fabric, and abrupt lack of modesty making her flush. Suddenly she wasn't so cold around the collar, the back of her neck burning.

Bare feet tapping against the cold flooring, Adelais followed Patricia's direction and found herself seated at a simple table in a barren kitchenette. A steaming mug of tea, that chamomile scent permeating the air, occupied that table in front of her. Hesitantly, her fingers reached out until they encircled the warm mug. Her skin warmed instantly upon contact with the ceramic, growing pink and threatened with the stinging almost-burn that came with the contact of something too-hot to touch.

At first, she sat with her back uncomfortably straight—a habit, sitting at a table meant she had to be at her best behaviour. However, as the minutes ticked by and she was left sitting alone with the rapidly cooling mug, Adelais's posture loosened and her spine curved, elbows coming to rest on the table as they took her weight.

Sipping at the tea, much more bearable now that steam was billowing from the mug, she closed her eyes and gave an almost imperceptible sigh out her nose.

This time, she heard the soft steps as Patricia approached the small kitchen. Likely they woman was doing it on purpose so as not to scare Adelais again; she appreciated the small gesture and a small, timid smile touched at her lips before she lifted the mug to hide it.

"How're you feeling, dear?" was the immediate question that came from the taller of the two once she re-entered the kitchen, hands now free of clothing.

"Much better, thank you. The tea is delicious."

Patricia reached out and gave a slow, soft pat on Adelais's shoulder. "I'm so glad to hear that. Now, let me fix you up something to fill that stomach of yours, hm?"

A protest lodged itself in her throat, the denial sitting on the back of her tongue before she forced herself to swallow it back. Politely declining things that were not approved for her; another habit. Patricia noticed something off about her, there was a look in her eyes as she gazed down at the younger woman that confirmed it, but she said nothing on the matter and simply turned toward the fridge to begin pulling out some ingredients to make a sandwich.

"Now, there's no rush right this moment, but you'll need to fill me in on some things, dear. This is quite the situation we've found ourselves in."

Adelais gently swirled the tea in her mug, watching as the liquid spun inside, getting closer and closer to the lip with each swirl. "What will happen to the other girls?" she finally broached, looking up through her lashes.

Pausing in her meticulous process, Patricia turned to look at her in a moment of silence. "Nothing for now. I assure you, dear, everything will be made clear in due time." Wiping her hands off on a damp dishcloth, she approached Adelais like a cornered animal that might spook. Hands raised—giving Adelais the time to pull back—she finally cupped the young blonde's face between her palms and gently stroked calloused thumbs along the thin skin of her cheeks.

A tender smile overtook her normally serene expression.

"In time, when you are ready, you can tell us your story. And we will tell you ours." One of Patricia's thumbs came up to stroke along her lips, pulling her plump bottom lip slightly downward. "When you meet him, it will be glorious."

Previous || Next

[bold-writing]

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 21 || Weathered but Not Broken

Words: 3400 +

Warnings: None

Previous || Next

~21~

Iris cradled a coffee between her palms as she sat next to Felicia in the waiting area of the police station. The card that Montez had given to Barry the night before was tucked in her pocket, the officer himself momentarily busy. She had expected the wait, but her nerves were still rattled as she looked around at the other people waiting and the posters that lined the walls.

"Are you okay? You're white as snow," Felicia asked in concern, reaching out to gently stroke Iris's cheek. She had gotten some looks on their way to the station, but both women had studiously ignored them as they walked hand-in-hand along the sidewalk. Stopping briefly for coffee, Felicia had gotten a bewildered look from the barista when she gave her two female names to put on the cups.

Dressed in a dark winter pea-coat and dark skinny jeans that were tucked into ankle boots, she didn't look overly feminine to the average person that walked by. Her mannerisms and her voice, however, were distinctly that of a female. Iris had noticed how she'd shied away at times, tucking her head downward awkwardly to make herself less visible. That is when she'd grabbed her hand and had proudly walked down the street with her larger palm cradled in her hand—bare of gloves.

Iris didn't get the chance to respond before a familiar voice called from the front desk. "Miss. Mayfair?"

Iris turned from her soulmate to catch the eyes of Montez, who looked momentarily surprised at her pin-straight hair and eyes surrounded in red-gold colour. Felicia placed a comforting hand on her leg before Iris stood up, her coffee pressed to her chest as she walked over to meet with the officer from the previous night.

"You're looking much better, Miss. Mayfair. It's good to see," he offered kindly, smiling as he spoke.

"Thank you," Iris mumbled back shyly before her eyes fell on the folder that held her statement. He didn't wait a moment more before he opened the folder and placed her written confession on the table. Her writing was messier than usual, a testament to her shock as she attempted to write. "So I just need to sign at the bottom?" she asked quietly as she placed her coffee just to the side, freeing her hands.

"If you want, you can read it over and make changes. If you sign it, that means that this is final," he answered calmly while sliding the paper closer to her. Iris shook her head, knowing that she was careful enough to repeat each detail the night before as carefully as her muddled brain could. Montez placed a pen on the sheet for her to use, before he patiently waited as Iris picked it up with a much steadier hand and scrawled her loopy signature on the bottom.

"Is that all?"

"Yes, Ma'am, you're free to go. We may contact you in the near future if we have any more questions. I have your cell number, is it alright to use if I need to speak with you?"

"Yes, I always have it with me," she answered easily, reclaiming her coffee as he recollected the sheets. "Have a good day, Officer Montez," she added on with a small smile, happy to be leaving the station. He smiled back before his eyes shifted to look over her shoulder; Felicia had stood up and was waiting for Iris.

She watched his eyes flick down to her hand, where he had caught the flash of her mark on the back of her hand, before he smiled again and nodded to her. Nodding back, Iris turned and headed over to Felicia with a hand outstretched already. Taking her soulmate's hand, the two women slipped from the station without waiting another moment and turned in the direction of Iris's apartment.

"Anything you want to do while we both have the day off?" Felicia finally asked once they were on their way, glancing down at Iris as they dodged people on the sidewalk.

"Honestly? Not a clue," Iris admitted with a slight laugh in her voice. "But considering how cold it is out here, preferably something that's inside?" Felicia laughed as she nodded in agreement, glad that she had pulled on a warm, dark blue hat before they had left—Iris had complimented the colour as soon as she spotted it, saying that it would bring out her soulmates eyes beautifully.

Pretty soon, the two women had crowded themselves into Iris's small apartment with her little heater cranked up to warm the space. Felicia gushed about how small and cute it was, reading the spines of Iris's book collection, then her tea tins, and finally ended at her miniscule wardrobe. She tutted over the oversized, covering clothing but didn't actually say anything against her choice in style. Iris was almost certain that all of her soulmates, even the ones she had yet to meet, were most likely aware of the scars on her body and why she preferred to remain covered.

"You need to buy some colour!" Felicia commented finally, noticing that mostly everything Iris owned was either black or dark grey. "It's so…blah! And you're already my little Snow White, no need to make you look even paler."

Iris huffed a laugh from where she was sitting on her bed, legs crossed comfortably as she watched Felicia card through her small amount of clothes. "Snow White? That's a new one."

Felicia spun with a grin, one of Iris's oversized sweaters in hand. "Oh, my dear Snow, you're basically a walking Disney character. And you can sing! That's even better!""

Iris snorted a laugh, quickly covering her mouth when the sound registered. "If you start calling me Snow, I'm gunna call you Cinnamon." Remembering her first words to Felicia made her smile; it was something sweet and memorable. She felt that she needed to make up for some of the less than kind or sweet remarks that had been left on her soulmate's body thus far.

Felicia gasped comically as she took in the nickname. "Cinnamon? I love it!"

She bounced up on the bed then, nearly tipping Iris over from the exuberance of the action, but both women simply laughed at the action as Iris quickly caught herself with outstretched palms. "Does my closet pass your approval?" she asked after a moment, nodding her head toward the corner of dark clothing hung up meticulously on cheap hangers.

Felicia made a face while glancing between her soulmate and the closet. "We definitely gotta go shopping once it warms up; you need some colour in your life. But, for now, it'll have to do." Iris laughed again, rocking her body to the side to give Felicia a slight shove.

As silence fell between them, Felicia glanced at Iris as a question sat on the tip of her tongue. Iris had mentioned the light earlier that morning, so she was picking up on things they said when talking about the other alters in Kevin's body, but she wondered just how much Iris understood. She was a smart woman, so Felicia was almost certain she'd done her own research on the subject, but to ask one of them would provide her with the best answer to anything she didn't understand.

"So, Iris," she finally started, deciding that she would at least give her little soulmate the chance to ask. "I understand that the…situation with me and the others—Barry and BT, all that—can be kinda confusing, so I was wondering if there was anything you wanted to ask?" Iris's soft gaze turned to her, eyes widened with surprise. "I know there's some stuff out there that explains D.I.D, but I'd be happy to give you a first-person explanation if you want it."

"Really?" Iris asked after a small pause. "You wouldn't be…offended?"

"Because you don't know everything?" Felicia asked, appalled. "No! Iris, none of us expect you to have full knowledge about us. Even when compared to other people that have multiple personalities, we're a whole other story. No one else in the world has ever had so many alters in one body—at least not that has been recorded. And you're proof that we're all real. Every mark on your body proves that we're not just a…glitch in the brain."

Iris reached out and caught Felicia's hand, the action so fast it was as though she was flinching. "I never thought that," she was quick to assure. "I know you're all as real as me or another other living person. I never doubted that, and it makes me sick to think that other people don't believe you are." Shuffling around so she was facing Felicia, Iris lifted her free hand to stroke her cheek. "Our bond is nothing like another out there, and I love that."

Felicia smiled back, pleased to hear how Iris had fully accepted her bond with them, as strange as it may be.

Iris looked down at Felicia's hand, cradling it between her palms in her lap. "I'm learning, bit by bit, each time I meet a new soulmate. I tried to research D.I.D, but even Dr. Fletcher's research was…biased? It was scientific, not reality. I felt like it was dehumanizing the people that I had met, so I stopped trying to read about it and decided that I would…go with the flow?" she explained carefully, not quite sure how to phrase it.

"Is there anything you want to ask me?" Felicia offered again, calmly waiting for Iris as she closed her eyes in concentration. It looked like she was trying to decide on which question to ask. "Ask me anything, Iris," Felicia continued, turning her hand over to hold one of Iris's smaller ones. "Anything and everything, if that's what you want."

Opening her eyes to meet Felicia's soft blue gaze, she took a steadying breath before nodding along. "One thing I wondered about was if you are all aware of what happens with whoever is in the light? You mentioned earlier that Barry being in the light made it possible for everyone to feel my fear…"

"We don't see or hear what the other alter experiences when they're in the light," Felicia assured. "I could talk to the others right now; I could tease Barry-"

"Don't you dare!" Iris laughed, seeing the teasing grin that had lit Felicia's expression before she continued.

"I can talk to the others, but they don't experience what I see or hear or whatever. I can show them if I really wanted, but we don't do that very often. Since only some of us have met you, when those people are in the light the sensations from the soulmark are…amplified."

Iris nodded along as she listened to her explanation, her fingers tracing Felicia's hand mindlessly. "Can more than one of you be in the light at the same time?"

This time, Felicia hesitated. "Not exactly at the same time, but there's been times when some of the others have switched who uses the light at a speed that it makes it seem like they're sharing it. Like, they can have conversations aloud with each other. We don't usually do that, though, since we can converse without doing it."

Iris noticed that she had offered the explanation without any names, so she took Felicia's hesitation as being trying to avoid revealing names of soulmates that Iris hadn't met yet. The others didn't seem to care about slipping names into conversation, but that didn't mean everyone else was the same. Felicia probably didn't want to confuse Iris by bringing up people she hadn't met yet.

"Do you guys have a fixed…schedule?" Iris hesitated a bit more this time, worried that the question would come across rude.

Felicia, however, answered it easily and without a care. "Not really. For work there is, but that's just because not everyone can actually do maintenance. I'd probably get us fired, so…"

Iris laughed at Felicia's attempt to cheer her up, feeling the worry she carried steadily ease. Once she'd calmed down, she glanced over toward the kitchen. "So, what do you want for lunch? I can make us some soup, and a fresh coffee?"

"That sounds fantastic," Felicia agreed, glancing over toward the window where Iris's heater was humming away, warming them up. It had begun to snow again shortly after they'd reached her building, the two breathing a sigh of relief to have escaped the sudden return of the storm. Iris shuffled off the bed and slipped into her small kitchenette, pulling out a large pot and some cutting boards. Felicia slid to the edge of the bed as she carefully watched Iris's trained motions.

Living on her own, she'd developed a routine when it came to preparing her meals and was glad that Felicia stayed back and out of her way.

She started the coffee first, before she began the prep work for the soup as the coffee brewed loudly in the corner. Their conversation turned to lighter topics as Iris hustled from side to side of her tiny kitchen to the other, Felicia's eyes followed her avidly as she asked about her soulmates reading habits, preferred music or movies.

At one point, Iris admitted that she'd once cut her hair short in a pixie cut years back—Felicia had eyed her meticulously straightened hair and pursed her lips. The brunette had laughed at her soulmate's expression before she shook her head. "Don't worry, I know it looked terrible on me. I plan on keeping it long from now on."

Felicia sipped her coffee as Iris finished putting everything in the pot and left the soup to cook as she moved over to sit on the edge of her bed, next to Felicia, as she took her own hot coffee back in hand. "So, have you gone to school? Any of you?" Iris asked once she'd gotten comfortable.

Felicia shrugged. "Kinda. I mean, we've taken some courses that would give us some advantages, but we don't have a diploma or a degree. We all have such different hobbies and likes, it would cost a fortune for us to all take something that we wanted. So, we took courses that would give us a leg up for a job. Like a business and management course. You?"

Iris shook her head immediately. "I love to learn, but everything I pick up is self-taught—except for some music lessons I paid for to get my footing. I love reading and I usually pick up whatever I want to know from that. Books are my favourite, but I'll get the odd ebook or online resource if I need to. I was so shocked when my bosses hired me on as a manager. I mean, I'd been there for a while but I'm sure they had more educated people they could've hired."

Felicia smiled in assurance as she bumped her soulmate's leg with her own. "Sometimes experience is better; I mean I'd rather have someone that had already been working for a while than someone straight out of school with no actual experience. It's unfortunate, but true."

Nodding in agreement, Iris tucked the soft strands of her straightened hair back behind her ear. It was so much silkier and easily fell in her face once it was straightened.

"Want me to braid that back?" Felicia offered once she'd spotted Iris do the same thing for a third time. She'd been trying to keep it out of her face desperately while she'd been cooking, but that had been a necessary thing; now, it seemed like it was beginning to bother her. After all, it wasn't something she usually had to deal with.

Iris flushed at being caught. "Oh, no, that's okay! It's just my curls usually stay where I put them-"

Felicia scoffed before she took both of their cups and placed them aside. "Relax, honey, I won't take it personally. Besides, I need some practice with braiding! Turn around, and scoot over here."

Knowing it was futile to argue, Iris turned her back to Felicia and pushed all of her hair over her shoulders. It worked out well, since Felicia was a bit taller than her while they were sitting and enabled her to see the top of Iris's head.

Beginning to section the beginning of the French Braid, Iris found herself once more leaning back into the gentle touches against her scalp. It was blissful and relaxing, causing her skin to prickle with sensitivity. She'd never thought that something as simple as someone stroking their fingers through her hair and along her scalp, a barely-there caress, would cause such a powerful and immediate reaction. Felicia hummed at the soft strands of Iris's hair, never touched with heat or chemicals to make it brittle or unhealthy.

"I love your hair," she sighed wistfully, wishing that she had hair like her soulmates. "You know I'm going to enjoy long hair vicariously through you, hm? If I'm in the light that day, you've gotta let me do your hair."

Iris just hummed in agreement as she leaned her hair back against Felicia's dextrous fingers, getting a giggle in response before she returned her concentration to making the braid even and straight.

The small apartment was beginning to smell strongly of vegetables and broth, a mouth-watering smell that made Felicia realize it had been a while since she'd—they'd—eaten something home-cooked. Patricia would sometimes make nice, fresh meals, but she wasn't in the light often enough for all of them to get the chance to eat the wonderful food.

"I haven't even tried that soup yet and my mouth is already watering," she admitted after a couple quiet minutes of silence, Iris continuing so sigh contentedly as Felicia took longer than necessary to do her hair. She was passed the base of Iris's skull now, meaning that the remainder of the braid didn't give her the excuse to stroke Iris's scalp or run her fingers through the soft strands near the roots.

"We also haven't eaten yet," Iris tried to explain, sounding sleepy.

"That's not why," Felicia argued. "It smells fantastic! I could have just stuffed myself with chocolate and whatever else and I promise you, I'd still be drooling over that smell. And debating whether a bowl would make me pop or not and if it's worth it."

"I need to stir it," Iris mumbled tiredly, her eyes closed as she basked in the sensation of her hair being played with for a second time that day. She had many years depraved of physical contact to catch up on.

Felicia tied off Iris's hair and gently guided her soulmate to lie down. "I'll keep an eye on the soup. Why don't you take a nap?"

Whiskey eyes opened to look up at her, a protest already on her lips, but Felicia gave her a look and lifted a finger to her lips in a gesture of silence. "Uh-uh, rest. Even if you slept well last night, you've got some catching up to do. Sleep!"

Fighting a smile as she nodded in defeat, Iris rolled onto her side, tucking her legs up from where they'd been hanging off the bed. Felicia snatched the throw that was folded up and placed along the middle of the bed, shaking it out, before she draped it over Iris's already-dozing form. The brunette's eyelids barely fluttered at the sensation of the blanket covering her, her relaxed state aiding her in falling asleep that much faster.

Felicia crouched next to the bed's edge as she watched her soulmate's peaceful expression, a blissful smile on her face as she thought over the past several hours since she'd woken with her soulmate in her arms, cradled against her chest. Barry was one lucky bastard to have Iris's love, but Felicia couldn't bring herself to be jealous when she knew that—in their unique way—she was Iris's as well.

The small woman's heart was almost too big, especially for someone who'd been put through so much in her younger years.

Brushing her bangs aside, Felicia leaned in a pressed a ghost of a kiss against Iris's pale forehead before she stood up and went to manage the steaming soup.

Previous || Next

[bold-writing]

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 20 || Cinnamon and Whiskey

Words: 3200+

Warnings: Mentions of Abuse, Trauma

Previous || Next

~20~

Iris was accustomed to waking up alone—when living on the streets, it had been a blessing, and when living by herself it was expected. However, since meeting Barry she had many mornings that she had woken with one of her soulmates. The sensation of her head rising and falling with the elevation of a chest as her soulmate breathed deeply with sleep, it was somehow intimate and familiar after so short a time.

Barely awake, Iris was unable to fight the yawn that had her tipping her head back and away from her soulmate's chest—she ended up resting her head in the cradle of his arm instead, letting her cheek rest against his pec muscle.

Still breathing deeply, the arm around her shoulders drew in and brought her closer. Sighing in contentment as she gratefully accepted the embrace, Iris slipped her arm over his stomach to return the hold. She could feel him move before gentle breaths shuffled her hair and his nose buried in the crown of her hair.

Taking a deep breath when she felt another yawn coming forward, her brain woke abruptly—cutting off the yawn before it could start—when she realized she was not lying on Barry. His smell was familiar to her now, especially since she was sleeping in his bed, but the person that was letting her use them as a pillow smelled different. There was more of a spice to their scent, like cinnamon and something she couldn't put her finger on.

Opening her eyes, the room still as dark as it had been when she fell asleep, Iris carefully lifted her head so as not to bump his nose as she turned to look at the newest face. The light from the hall lit his face enough for her to see his eyes were open, but not enough to take in the minute changes that occurred in each of her soulmate's expressions.

Silence stretched between them as Iris met his gaze, feeling the halt of his breath when he realized she was aware of a new identity being in the light. Barry had confessed that the others she had met were surprised at how easily she could tell them apart, but there were only a few that she needed to distinguish between so far.

Letting a smile warm her expression, Iris dropped her chin to rest on his—or her?—collar bone as she continued to gaze up at the soft blue eyes watching her. "You smell like cinnamon," she declared gently.

A full, boisterous laugh broke from her soulmate as his head tipped back. She was shaken alongside his laugh as his body shook and rocked beneath her hold, causing her to smile wider. "Cinnamon?" a feminine lilt responded. "I hope you like cinnamon."

A woman. The thought warmed Iris, knowing that she was meeting more of the female personalities within her soulmate's body. "I love cinnamon," she assured. "Good morning," she added a moment later, shifting to prop herself up on one elbow.

"Good morning," the alter responded, shifting to mirror her position so they were lying on their sides, facing one another. "My name's Felicia, by the way. I'm so happy to finally meet you, Iris." Reaching forward, she carefully swept some of the light-brown hair from Iris's face, letting her see the entirety of her soulmate's pale face. "Interesting choice of soulmark, too."

Iris let out a breathy laugh as she ducked her head, suddenly bashful of her choice in words. "I felt it was better than the generic 'Good morning' that I could have said. It's unique, right?"

Felicia laughed again, nodding in agreement. "Barry told us what happened. How are you feeling?" With the hand she had used to sweep aside her hair, Felicia stroked the soft skin of Iris's cheek as she carefully examined her expression for any changes upon mentioning the incident from the day before. "Sleep well?"

"I did, thank you. And I'm alright. It's kind of a blur now, I guess from the adrenaline of everything."

Nodding in understanding, the newest alter sighed faintly. "We felt your fear—well, the others who've met you felt it strongest but because Barry was in the light, we all kind of felt it alongside him. I hate that you had to go through that."

Iris carefully took the hand from her cheek to cradle in her smaller palm, letting her fingertips dance across the skin—it felt softer than Barry's hands usually did. "I'm alright, now. It does scare me to think who could have done that, but…I have you guys, so it's easier to bear."

Smiling again, Felicia reclaimed her hand and leaned forward to take Iris in a hug. It baffled her to feel how thin her soulmate actually is, especially when Iris returned her embrace and wrapped a thin arm around her waist. She'd noticed it when she felt Iris before she woke, but it was a shocking difference between their physical bodies. "So, breakfast?" Felicia proposed while leaning back to take in Iris's shadowed face. She regretted how dark the room was when meeting Iris for the first time, but it wasn't often the other soulmate would be able to say they woke up to Iris in their arms for their initial meeting.

"I have to go to the police station to sign my statement; want to get something on the way?"

"Totally!" Felicia agreed, then proceeded to leap out of Barry's bed and almost rush for the door. Iris sat up and watched her nearly trip as she came to an abrupt stop and spun back to face her. "Uhm…I could lend you something to wear, but…"

Iris waved her off with a smile, then motioned over to her clothing from the day before. "It's okay, my clothes from yesterday will be fine. We can go back to my apartment after, though, and I can show you where I live?"

"Yes! Okay, be right back!"

Iris laughed quietly to herself as the other woman disappeared, still wearing Barry's sleep clothes. Shuffling out of the warm bed, Iris shivered in the cool air from the underground tunnels. It made her reluctant to take off Barry's clothes, warm as they were. However, she couldn't very-well leave for the station in oversized sweats.

Slipping back into her own pants, she stopped short of pulling off the sleep shirt. It was plane black, nothing to signify that it was a sleep shirt. And she knew that women wore their soulmate's clothes all the time, so it wasn't that out of the ordinary, right? Pulling the collar up to her nose, she inhaled Barry's smell delicately.

She loves him. She told him she loves him. A smile brightened her expression without conscious thought, her heart beginning to speed up in her chest. He'd kissed her.

"If that's not the look of a woman in love, then I'm blind," Felicia said from the doorway, having changed from Barry's clothes and carrying them over one arm. Iris's cheeks immediately warmed in a blush as she dropped the collar of his shirt and turned to pick up her coat. Making a split decision, she left her shirt folded on the chair and wore the shirt he had given to her. "Awe, come on! You gotta tell me what happened! Barry was grinning like a right fool, too."

Glancing over her shoulder as she twisted her hair up to put in a bun, Iris couldn't supress the giddy feeling that overwhelmed her core. "Really?" she finally asked, sounding so meek and bashful.

Felicia laughed as she entered the room, dropping Barry's sleep clothes on the bed before she plunked herself down.

She had changed into a pair of black skinny jeans, fitting quite well on the male frame of Kevin's body, and an azure button-up that brought out the beautiful blue of her eyes. "Fell asleep grinning, he did. And I want to know why."

Again, Iris ducked her head to hide her face as she used her hair-tie to secure the mussed up bun that she had created. "I love him," she mumbled finally, refusing to look back at Felicia. She'd only just met this woman, yet she felt as though she could tell her anything.

"Yes!" Felicia screamed, throwing her arms up before clapping excitedly. "I knew it! I so called it! Well, how'd you tell him? Was it when he came to get you? Did he sweep in like a knight in shining armor? Wait, we're talking about Barry," she halted, doubling back when she remembered which soulmate Iris had confessed to.

Gasping, Iris turned to gap at Felicia. "Be nice!"

"What? I mean, don't get me wrong, Barry's awesome but he'd not the 'sweep you off your feet' kinda guy."

Shaking her head, Iris moved to sit on the edge of his desk chair, avoiding the shirt she had left there. "He might surprise you," she argued. "Barry...he's safety. To me. I feel safe with all of you, but there's something about being with him that makes me feel invincible. Like nothing can touch me when he's around," she explained quietly, unable to stop smiling as she remembered how she had felt when he held her in his arms.

"So, what happened?" Felicia asked more calmly this time, leaning forward with intrigue.

Covering her flaming cheeks, Iris looked away for a moment to collect herself. "An officer dropped us off at the gate, and I was assuring him that no matter what it looked like down here, that I would love it. That there's nothing wrong with living somewhere a bit different. He called me perfect, even when I just…brushed it off the first time, he insisted." Felicia smiled softly as she watched Iris's expressions play out alongside her story. "So…I told him I loved him, and he said he loved me, too."

"Awww," Felicia cooed, understanding Barry's behaviour better now.

Knowing that she couldn't leave it at that, Iris took a deep breath before confessing, "He kissed me."

Felicia tried very hard to stay quiet, not wanting to startle the woman away, but a squeal of excitement still escaped as she wiggled happily on the bed. "Oh, go Barry! I didn't think he had it in him."

"Felicia!" Iris scolded again, but laughter lightened her tone.

Standing up, Felicia surged forward to catch Iris's hands. "We're not done talking about this; you can tell me every detail while I do your hair and makeup."

Iris didn't even have a chance to protest as she was tugged out of her other soulmate's bedroom, barely remembering to catch the light switch on their way out.

Barry's thing was art—drawing and designing clothes to be specific—but it seemed that Felicia's was the art of makeup. The others didn't like the makeup on their skin, or what it did to their skin, so she didn't actually get the chance to practice her talents. Iris wasn't a huge fan of makeup, mostly because she never took the time to learn how to apply it properly, so she was baffled by all of the things that Felicia lined up on the counter to use.

Iris was considerably paler than her, however, so she wasn't able to use the creams and powders for her face. Instead, she spent the time working on making her whiskey eyes—already absolutely gorgeous, in Felicia's opinion—pop and stand out.

"How did you learn all of this?" Iris asked as she sat with her eyes closed, letting Felicia work some colour into her eyelids with a gentle touch. She could barely feel the brush across her skin.

"The wonders of Youtube, darling. I'm Queen of Youtube."

Iris smiled at Felicia's positive attitude, relieved to have someone with her that wasn't weighed down on remembering the attack on the store yesterday. She was already going to have to dredge up what happened to the police, so she really didn't want to spend her time with her soulmate doing the same. "Have you ever thought of making your own channel? Doing videos?"

Felicia hummed softly in thought as she continued to work, tipping Iris's chin upward to get a different angle. "Sometimes I think about it now and then, but…I've watched other videos that are-" she paused, trying to find the right word, "Similar. People don't react very kindly."

"Similar?" Iris repeated, the word mumbled when she tried not to move her jaw against Felicia's hand. When she felt the brush leave her eyelid, she opened her eyes to meet Felicia's saddened blue gaze. "Do you mean because of your body?" she asked carefully, not wanting to upset.

Instead of answering, Felicia looked away and shifted her body with the pretense of collecting more colour on the brush she was using. Frowning sadly, Iris reached out to gently lay her palm on her soulmate's arm. The warm touch brought her blue gaze back to Iris, who offered a small, encouraging smile.

"You're beautiful, Felicia. You all have something unique to yourselves, even if you share the same body." Reaching up, she gently caressed a thumb beneath her eyes, where her other soulmates' skin never quite felt as smooth. "I can't say I fully understand how it works, but I do believe that each of you have your own unique differences each time you…take the light." She had heard them speak of the experience a couple of times and was trying to use familiar terms. "You smell different, and your skin seems so much…softer. You have gentle eyes, like they were meant to go with a smile. Patricia's look more motherly, and BT's come across a bit intimidating. Yours…they're soft."

Looking into her eyes already, Iris could see the welling of moisture as she spoke. Felicia tried to blink away the collecting tears, filled with emotion, as she licked her lips shyly. Cupping her soulmates cheeks, Iris leaned forward as Felicia closed her eyes. Pressing soft kisses to each lid, void of makeup, she pulled away once she felt the muscles in Felicia's jaw relax.

"You're beautiful, and those who can't see that are blinded to a wonderful, unique reality that I get to live with every day. If you want to make a Youtube channel, I think you should. You can even disable the comments on it. However, I think that what others have to say—good or bad—is superficial to what matters to you. Any video you make isn't for the likes or the comments; it's because you want to show the world something you love."

The gentle tears that had been building up couldn't be stopped any longer, spilling over as her soulmate let out a shaky breath and leaned into Iris's hands more fully. She leaned forward to kiss the tears away, understanding the emotion that Felicia was feeling.

She was worried that people would lash out at her for being in a man's body. Iris had heard of people reacting to men on the internet who loved makeup, and created tutorials for others to watch. It broke her heart to hear how people reacted sometimes. Just as she had thought hiding her marks would keep her safe from physical and emotional harm, Felicia was hesitating to take the chance by putting herself out for the world to see.

"Don't let simple-minded people try and stop you," she encouraged gently. Pulling away from her slowly, Felicia opened her eyes to see what Iris was doing. She watched, entranced, as Iris carefully rolled up the sleeves of Barry's shirt to expose the various marks along her arms—black and silver—that belonged to the other alters in Kevin's body.

Felicia exhaled in awe as she took in the different styles of writing, all so familiar to her, with the scars of Iris's past abuse marring some of them.

"The thought of people seeing these used to terrify me, because I knew I was different and it would be hard for others to accept. Now, I realize that there are only twenty-three people that really matter." Smiling brightly, Iris clasped Felicia's hands and squeezed them tightly in her small fingers. "There's going to be people who don't understand, but they're not important."

Nodding along, Felicia couldn't stop crying as she returned the tight hold that iris had on her hands. "Thank you, Gorgeous. I really needed to hear that." She released Iris's hands one to wrap her in an embrace, inhaling the soft scent of her soulmate's hair. It felt like silk again her cheek, coaxing her to touch it. She really wanted to style the beautiful strands, caught between dark chocolate and liquid gold.

When she pulled back, she framed Iris's face between her hands and gave a vibrant smile. Her makeup was incomplete, only the light touches of powder on either eyelid enhancing the colour of her eyes. She could see the beginnings of moisture collecting in the beautiful whiskey of her eyes and immediately began fanning her face gently.

"Don't you dare! I worked hard on those eyes," she scolded playfully, sniffling at the end as Iris sobbed a laugh.

"Okay, okay, no tears," she agreed, tipping her head back so as to prevent any more moisture from building.

Iris used one of the tissues close at hand to wipe Felicia's tears away before they resumed their focus on finishing her makeup. "So, if I make a channel, will you be my model for some of the videos?" Felicia asked after a brief pause in conversation, beginning to line above Iris's lashes with a thin flick of black eyeliner.

"I'd be happy to," Iris responded immediately, warmed at the thought of Felicia pursuing something that she loved.

They changed the conversation to lighter topics as Felicia finished with her makeup and moved on to doing her hair, marvelling at the soft strands as she debated on whether she wanted to curl them or straighten them. "I wonder how long this would be if I straightened it," she pondered, raking her fingers gently through the long strands.

"I don't think I've ever straightened it before. And it has been a while since I cut it," Iris responded in a daze. The feeling of someone running their fingers through her hair was sending shivers all down her spine. Felicia grinned coyly when she noticed Iris's focus was lacking and began massaging her soulmate's scalp gently. Iris nearly purred at the feeling as she unconsciously leaned back into her touch.

"I think I'll straighten it," Felicia decided to herself, raking fingers along Iris's skull gently before she carded the locks through her fingers. It was mostly curly, with a slightly crimped appearance because of the braid that it had been bound in the day before.

Iris hummed in acknowledgement but didn't respond, letting her head be tipped this way and that as she relaxed into the playful hands in her hair.

It dawned on Felicia after a moment that Iris probably never had nice experiences with her hair—at least not like most girls did. She doubted that her mother had lovingly brushed her hair in the morning or before bed, or styled it before she went off to school. It was most likely the opposite, using her hair to pull her this way or that. It broke Felicia heart to know that they had both been deprived of something so basic.

"Just relax, Gorgeous, and let me take care of you."

Previous || Next

[bold-writing]

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 19 || Beneath the Gentle Snow

Words: 4100+

Warnings: Mentions of Past Trauma

Previous || Next

~19~

Iris had not moved by the time Barry arrived in the store. He had to show Kevin’s ID to prove he was he one that Iris was expecting—he was incredibly thankful she had given Kevin’s name and not one of the alters, or that would be much harder to explain. He had taken the officer’s advice and was carrying a warm cup of tea from the café they had gone to that first night, guided around the mess of glass and the owners of the store who were speaking with a detective on scene.

The sight of the broken window and cops swarming all over the place had his hand tightening on the cup, trying not to picture how terrified Iris must have been when someone broke the window. She had sounded as though she was on the cusp of breaking down when he spoke with her on the phone, and that was after she had some time to calm down.

Led to the back of the store by a woman named Sinclair, she stopped Barry right before they were to enter the back office. “Here, let me take that from you,” she proposed, motioning to the tea. “I’m sure you’ll want your hands free.”

Barry nodded numbly as he handed her the tea—he hadn’t even thought of that. He probably would have just dropped the damn thing to let Iris into his arms. With his hands now free, the officer nodded to the door as a silent instruction to head inside. The door was slightly ajar already, a man’s voice drifting from within. Pushing the door open slowly, Barry stood in the doorway of the small office as he watched Iris sign the bottom of her police statement regarding the incident.

The sight of his tiny soulmate, one hand tucked in close to her chest and the other shaking unsteadily as she tried to sign the paper, nearly broke his heart. Knowing she had been in danger was more nerve-wracking than the nights he had known she was struggling to sleep—first because of their unfortunate beginning, and then again because of her father.

“Miss. Mayfair, you can finish this at the station. Just come by tomorrow, give yourself some time to calm down,” the male officer with her was instructing, trying to persuade her from continuing to attempt a sloppy signature from her shaking hand.

“Iris,” Barry called finally, more a sigh of relief to see that she truly wasn’t hurt than anything else. Immediately, her head snapped to the side, chocolate braid flying, and those watery, whiskey eyes landed on him with a look of such relief that Barry was moving before he even thought about doing so.

He didn’t care about the cops or the noise or the tiny space they were stuck in. Iris leapt from the chair and was infolded tightly in his arm in the next instant, small arms wrapped around him so tightly he was momentarily stunned by her strength. Releasing the breath he had been holding, Barry pulled her in against him until she had nearly disappeared into the bulk of his arms and coat. She made no sound, but he could feel her entire body shaking like a leaf in the wind.

Part of it was because of the adrenaline that must have flooded her system, now beginning to dissipate, but he also noticed that she was only in the thin, long sleeved shirt she had been wearing for work. They may have been in the back, but the window had been busted long enough that the entire store was frigid with the cold wind that had blown in earlier that day.

Her hands were icy against his back, the cold reaching him through his shirt. Keeping one arm wrapped securely around her shoulders, he used his free hand to rub up and down her back soothingly, trying to use the friction to bring more warmth at the same time. “You’re freezing, Sweetheart. Where’s your coat?”

“Locker,” she mumbled against his chest, the word barely audible. “In the break room.”

“I’ll go,” the officer that had been with her volunteered, stepping away from the couple and silently leaving the room as Sinclair leant past Barry to place the hot tea on the desk next to Iris’s statement. A moment later, they were alone.

“You promise you’re okay, Iris? You didn’t get hurt?” Barry asked a moment later, shifting his hold so he could run his hand along her soft hair—he’d said she got some glass in it, hadn’t he? That window had exploded with a pretty decent distance; there was glass all the way down the aisles.

“I’m okay now,” she assured, tightening her hands in the back of his shirt. “I just want to warm up, and lie down.” Pulling back just enough to look up at him, Barry felt his heart clench at the paleness of her cheeks, and the shadows beneath her eyes. It reminded him of the night they met up again at Dr. Fletcher’s, when Iris had come running without her coat.

Framing her face with his hands, her skin cold against his warm palms, Barry watched as she relaxed into the touch and sighed from the warm feeling. “Come back to our place tonight,” he proposed abruptly, blurting out the suggestion before he really thought about it. She blinked in surprise. “You’ll be safe, and I don’t want you to be left alone.”

Her expression softened and her eyes drifted closed before she nodded against his hands. Her agreement finally let Barry relax, knowing that he could keep an eye on her and assure himself and the others that she was safe with them. Still cradling her face, he leant down to press a warm kiss against her forehead, letting out a trembling exhale. Finally, his heart began to beat normally in his chest. He would need to speak with the others, but he knew they would all agree with his offer and welcome their soulmate in with open, grateful arms.

“Miss. Mayfair.” Pulling back enough, Barry and Iris both looked over to Montez, who stood holding her coat and bag in his hands. “You can go home now. Please get some rest tonight, and you can come by the station tomorrow to review and sign your statement.”

Nodding reluctantly, Iris admitted defeat. Her hands were too shaky to sign her name, and her brain grew foggier as the adrenaline wore off. “Thank you, Officer Montez.” Barry helped her pull on her coat and took her bag for her. She was soon bundled in her coat and scarf, the tea Barry had purchased cradled carefully between her hands. Initially, she was worried she would drop it, but it was only a small and was light enough she could keep her grip on the warm beverage. Barry accepted a card from Montez with his information on it, saying that he’d be working the next day and to just ask for him.

Montez stayed to collect her statement as Sinclair escorted them back to the front. Mrs. McIntosh stopped her just briefly to check on her and assure her that the store would be closed the next day. She smiled gratefully at Barry, the look in her eye telling him that she knew exactly what his connection with Iris was, before she let the two of them head outside.

An officer offered to give them a ride, Barry accepting gratefully now that they wouldn’t need to try and hail a cab or call a company to have one come by. Kevin’s ID had an apartment provided at the south side of the zoo, so it wouldn’t be suspicious to have them dropped off there by the officer. He didn’t usually go to Kevin’s work-provided apartment, but it came in handy now and then. The cop opened the door for them and Barry helped Iris to bundle herself in first before he joined her.

As soon as he was beside her, Iris folded herself into his side with the tea still between her palms. Barry heaved a sigh of relief as he let his head rest atop hers.

They had been preparing somewhere for her, but it was far from being complete. He would let her stay in his room tonight and they would figure out where to go from there. If she wanted to stay more than one night, he would gladly give up his room for however long she wanted. Knowing Iris, she would feel terrible about taking his room, but she also didn’t understand how deeply he and the others felt for her already. They would burn the world if she asked.

Being so close to the zoo, it only took a few short minutes for them to pull up at the gates to the back entrance. Barry quickly thanked the officer when he opened the door for them, helping Iris out as she continued to clutch the tea. He watched her eyes widen in interest when she finally took in where they were. The sounds of the animals could still be heard in the distant buildings, too far to be seen.

“The zoo,” she mumbled in surprise. Then her lips lifted in a tired smile. “You live in the zoo?” Barry watched the cruiser pull away before he spoke.

“Well, under it,” Barry answered sheepishly. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Pulling out the ring of keys—a rather large number of keys—he unlocked the gates and led Iris inside. Keeping an arm around her, he watched her as she took in their surroundings, her expression showing no sign of disgust or judgement about his accommodations. “Is that why you work for the zoo?” she asked after a minute of walking up the winding paths. “Because you live here? Or do you live here because you work for the zoo?”

“I got the job first and found out that a bunch of the old buildings were abandoned, so I started working on making a place for all of us. We all have space here, so it was perfect. It’s…not very legal, but-”

Iris took his hand gently, cradling her tea against her chest so as not to drop it. He stopped talking, glancing down at her kind expression as she stroked her warm, gloved thumb over the back of his hand. “I lived on the streets, remember? You found and made yourselves a home. I see nothing wrong with that.”

A smile grew across Barry’s lips as she spoke, feeling his face warm at her kindness. “You’re perfect, Sweetheart, you know that?”

Iris repressed the urge to scoff, but pursed her lips slightly as she bowed her head. Barry stopped them outside the door to the underground tunnels, turning Iris to face him. Drawing her in closer, he pressed a firm kiss against his cheekbone before wrapping her in his arms again—careful of her tea between them.

“You’re perfect, Iris. I’m so glad you’re mine.”

She shivered at the feeling of his breath at her ear, his words reaching the depths of her soul. One of her arms slipped up to wrap around his neck, returning his embrace as she buried her face against his neck. Her emotions welled inside of her like a storm; she wanted to laugh and to cry, fighting against a whimper of all things that wanted to burst free from her chest. Holding Barry only caused the emotions to surge stronger, making her tremble against his presence.

“I love you,” she whispered instead, keeping her hold around his neck and shoulders tight. The muscles beneath her hand twitched and tensed for a moment before he relaxed against her, while bringing her in closer. The warm breath against her ear shuddered, like he was fighting to breathe. The words felt right as they rolled off her tongue, her heart free of regrets.

She loved him. She loved all of them. Having met them or not, they were hers and she loved them with all of her heart.

She would burn the world for them, too.

Turning his head to press a kiss against temple, Barry could feel the burn of tears as happiness threatened to overwhelm the rest of his senses. “I love you, too.” He felt her draw back enough to return the kiss he had given her upon his cheek, lips trembling and warm breath teasing his skin. Pulling back enough to meet her gaze, whiskey eyes glistening much like his own, he couldn’t stop the smile that brightened his features.

Snow peppered Iris’s dark hair and the mix of emotions and cold air had brought a rosy colour to her cheeks. She was the picture of beauty as she gazed up at him with her lips turned up the faintest bit to mirror his smile, her palm warm against his cheek as she shifted her hold on him. He could see only happiness and peace in her expression, her confession done with honest emotions. “I love you, Barry,” she repeated, her voice stronger this time.

Barry’s cheeks nearly hurt with the force of his smile, watching as Iris’s smile grew as well at the sight of his emotions so clearly on display. His head tipped forward to rest his beanie-covered forehead against hers. Taking a moment to silently bask in the moment, he took in the sensation of Iris’s thumb caressing his cheek and the gentle warmth of each exhale warming his lips against the cold wind.

Remembering the morning that he had walked her to work, Barry gazed into warm amber before he closed his eyes and tipped his head. His lips claimed hers, completing the kiss that almost was when she had turned her head that one morning. A soft sigh escape her before she lifted her chin to press back, parting her lips just slightly to take his bottom lips between hers. Closing her eyes completely, unbidden but joyful tears streamed down her cheeks.

A shiver disrupted the peace as icy wind blew across the back of Iris’s neck, the smile on her face assuring Barry that her tears were not of sadness when he pulled away to look down upon her. “Let’s get you inside,” he offered, keeping a warm, heavy arm across her shoulders as he unlocked the door for them and pulled it open with ease.

Iris shuffled in ahead of him, shaking the snow from her hair as he closed and locked the door behind them.

Flipping on the hall lights, a set of stairs immediately descended into the underground tunnels. Barry shook his shoulders as he looked bashfully at the ground. He knew that she wouldn’t judge, but he still wished he could show her a nicer place to stay. She noticed his silence and reached back to take his hand again. “Show me,” she encouraged softly, using the other hand that still held the tea to carefully wipe her cheek.

Barry reached forward naturally, wiping the other cheek free of salty tears.

Holding her hand, he led her down the stairs and into the confining tunnels that he and the others had made their home.

Majority of the walk was hallways with dim lighting, kept fairly clean because of Dennis’s habits and Patricia’s concerned nature. Their steps echoed off the walls as he guided her into the center of the abandoned buildings, where the old employees of the zoo had offices and break rooms, which included the kitchen that thankfully had working appliances.

Unlocking the last door that separated his home from the halls, Barry held it open for Iris to enter first. Iris stepped inside and immediately began looking around, taking in the sparingly placed décor and personal items. With so many different personalities and preferences, she could understand that one main way of decorating would be hard. Some furniture was spread sporadically, yet meticulously, and she could detect touches of Patricia from the throws or pillows that were placed carefully around the little living room.

The bookshelves were a bit of a disaster and she could see little piles of papers with writing and drawings from where she stood.

A set of dumbbells were stashed beneath one of the couches, barely peeking into her sight. Luke’s leather jacket was hung on the corner of the chair at the table, a woman’s soft red pea coat on the opposite side.

Barry watched as she took in the minute details that were haphazardly spread throughout the main room. The kitchen was off to the side, Patricia’s collection of herbs stacked in main view and the large cupboard of cereals left open from that morning when he’d made breakfast before work. “What…what do you think?” he asked nervously, even though he could see her lips turned up in a smile.

“I can see you,” she answered quietly. “And Luke,” she added, motioning to the jacket, “BT, Patricia…”

Barry relaxed as he watched her attention jump from possession to possession, seeing her soulmates among the chaos. She could also see a few children’s colouring books, and several different types of shoes neatly sectioned away. Walking over to the corner that had some of his drawings scattered about, Barry swallowed as he watched her inspect some of his work. Her attention was caught by one of the more recent ones, which he was wishing he’d stashed away now, that he had drawn with her in mind. The model was faceless, but it was of a thin, small woman that appeared enveloped in a plush jacket of whiskey-coloured softness. He had tried to capture the colour of Iris’s eyes, but it was a difficult shade to recreate.

“These are amazing, Barry,” she breathed out in awe, leaning closer to take in some of the details. “You’re very talented.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled bashfully as he pulled his beanie off. “Uhm, we’ve been getting a room ready for you but it’s not quite done. You can…stay in my room tonight. I’ll ask one of the others if I can use their room-”

“Barry,” she interrupted softly, moving to place her tea down on the little dining table. “I don’t want to kick you out of your room.” He opened his mouth to insist, but Iris placed her fingertips against his tips before he could get a sound out. “You slept next to me when you were at my apartment. Can you stay with me again?”

He hadn’t even really thought about it until that moment, but she probably didn’t want to be alone after the fright at the store. She had no clue who had thrown the pipe through the window, for all she knew it could have been her father, or the man and his wife that had tried to get the money from her for a refund that didn’t exist.

“My bed’s a bit smaller than yours,” he admitted in forewarning, but she just smiled up at him.

She looked ready to speak again before her words were interrupted by a long, deep yawn that caused a quiet popping sound in her jaw. Barry pursed his lips at the adorable sight of her covering her mouth with the sleeve of her coat, eyes squeezed closed.

“I’ll give you a proper tour tomorrow,” he offered, moving to turn off the lamp on the desk. “For now, time for bed.”

Iris was physically and emotionally drained, the slight boost in energy from their moment outside beginning to subside and return the exhaustion of an adrenaline crash.

Guiding her through the smaller hallways to his room, Barry began shuffling through his closet to pick out some warm, clean clothes for her to wear. She was going to be swimming in anything he gave her, so he found the warmer items that he owned—a pair of sweatpants that could be tied at the waist, and a long sleeved, flannel sleep shirt. “Here, you can wear these tonight. Are you hungry at all?”

Iris shook her head as she took the clothes from him. “I don’t think I could stomach anything right now.”

Showing her to the nearby washroom, crowded with different soaps, towels, toothbrushes and other supplies, she took the new toothbrush that he offered her before he left her alone to change and have a moment to herself.

Iris closed the door of the bathroom and placed the clothes he had given her on the counter, avoiding the different razors and face soaps that covered a decent amount of its surface. Her gaze travelled over the twenty-three different toothbrushes, as well as the abundance of hooks on the back wall that each had a different coloured towel hanging from it. She had wondered how all of the personalities lived among one another; seeing it now, it only made her more curious.

Quickly brushing her teeth and washing her face, she pulled on the large clothes that Barry had provided. The pants had to be rolled at the ankles and waist in order to remain up, and the sleeves of the shirt hung past her wrists and draped loose around her thin shoulders. The sight of herself in Barry’s clothes almost made her laugh. She looked like a small child in an adults clothing. Pulling her hair from the braid and brushing it out with her fingers, she took a deep, calming breath to ease the fluttering in her stomach.

Would it be different to fall asleep next to Barry after she had confessed her love for him? After the kiss they had shared?

Finishing up in the bathroom and collecting her armful of clothes, jacket included, Iris stepped out into the hallway and spotted Barry waiting just outside of his room in a different set of clothes. As soon as he saw her emerge from the washroom, he pushed hurriedly off of the wall and watched her approach him with an amused look brightening his baby-blue eyes.

“I look like a kid,” Iris said first, knowing why he looked so amused.

“It’s cute,” he assured, motioning her into his room.

The walls were almost completely covered in drawings, several sketchbooks and portfolios stacked on the desk and shelves he had installed around the room. He’d hurriedly made his bed when she was in the washroom and had snatched an extra pillow from the linen closet. “I’m gunna go brush my teeth. Just…make yourself at home.”

Watching him duck back out into the hallway, Iris carefully put her clothes on the chair in front of his desk, trying not to disturb any of the papers scattered around. She spotted another drawing similar to the one she had seen in the living room area, this time with the woman in the drawing wearing an elegant black dress with lace designs.

Not wanting to invade his privacy, she stepped away before getting too caught up and shuffled over to the bed. Shyly drawing back the covers, she tried not to overthink as she slipped under the sheets, the smell of Barry’s soap and cologne immediately overwhelming her senses. Relaxing into the familiar, comforting scent, her exhaustion returned almost instantaneously.

It felt as though her body became boneless as she lay beneath the warm covers of Barry’s bed, the pillow beneath her head smelling like clean linen. She was barely aware of the lights turning off, her eyes only opening when she felt the mattress dip and the covers shift slightly to adjust to the new body settling beneath. There was still a light on somewhere, probably the hall, because she could barely make out the sight of Barry lying across from her.

“Thank you, Barry,” she mumbled tiredly. It was doubtful that she would have slept if she had gone back to her apartment and spent the night alone.

“Anything for you, Sweetheart,” he assured quietly, the deep rumble of his lowered voice causing her to smile before she shuffled closer to his body. His arm came around her naturally, enfolding her against his chest as she sighed in contentment. “Goodnight, Iris.”

“’Night,” she mumbled back, barely aware enough to get the word out before she had dropped off to sleep. Barry remained awake for a short while more, watching over her as she slept to make sure that no nightmares disturbed her sleep. He couldn’t wipe the smile from his face as he held her tight, delaying his own sleep to enjoy the time he had with her in his arms. He wasn’t sure what was to come when they woke in the morning, but he knew that he would need to share her with the others again. He wanted to enjoy his time while he could.

He fell asleep to her even, gentle breaths against his chest and the whispers of the other alters in his mind.

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[bold-writing]

You're back!

Hi!

Hallo!

It's so lovely to see you again 😊💕

How have you been?

I am! Hello! I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting! Life can unfortunately be unpredictable but we find a way none the less!

[bold-writing]

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 18 || My Peace, Like Shattered Glass

Words: 3200+

Warnings: Trauma, Acts of Violence

Previous || Next

~18~

“Ow!”

“That’s why I wear gloves,” Iris teased gently as she smoothed a Band-Aid over the badly stinging cut that Jessica had obtained when trying to rip open a box—it was basically a papercut, but when it was caused by cardboard, the pain was considerably more; as was the amount of blood that had welled up to the surface of the cut.

“I thought that was to hide the mark,” Jessica admitted quietly, her low voice deliberately making sure that their coworkers didn’t hear what she said. “You’re always wearing them.”

“This is the fourth time you’ve cut yourself this week,” Iris pointed out in counterattack, causing the younger woman to flush in embarrassment before she simply shrugged her shoulders. There was no defense against that. Iris shook her head with a gentle smile, collecting the garbage from disinfecting and covering the cut, tossing them into the nearby trashcan of the office. “You should get a pair, you know. Boxes and books don’t just cause papercuts, but they dehydrate your hands as well. Wearing a pair of these will stop that.”

“Don’t rub it in,” Jessica grumbled half-heartedly. Iris just gave that same smile as she stood up.

“I know it’s a bit earlier than usual, but why not take your break now?” Iris asked instead, briefly checking the time on the bottom of the office computer’s screen. Jessica agreed easily, happy to get off shift and eat something. The two women went their separate ways once they left the office, Iris making her way back into the store as she smiled to her coworkers and reclaimed her place behind the register.

She knew they were whispering about her, confused by why she was constantly smiling and always seemed to be happy. Not that she’d been doom and gloom before, but they couldn’t remember a time when she had smiled and showed her happiness so openly and constantly. Jessica was still the only one to know about her marks—or at least the fact that there is more than one—but they had all been able to notice the change in their manager in the past few weeks. She’d gotten worse, to the point that she had been forced to take time off, before she miraculously got better.

There were still days when they could tell she hadn’t slept well, for whatever reason, but they were few and far between.

Iris wasn’t able to see her soulmates every day, try as either of them might, but they spoke constantly. She would wake up to emails from whoever was in the light that day, but she would usually write to all of them every morning—she hated feeling like any of her soulmates were being neglected. Continuing to do this as more and more of them are met, she isn’t sure, but she knows that she will go out of her way to make sure they are all…loved. Welcomed and acknowledged for their individuality.

It was surprisingly difficult to focus on her work—she had never had anything in her life to distract her before. Even fear of her parents had bled away after a time, but her soulmates were ever present on her mind.

Absentmindedly, Iris stroked a fingertip over the mark on the back of her palm.

They were all so different, it made her wonder who else was in the body of Kevin Crumb. When would she meet Hedwig, the supposed child? Or Jade, a younger female than Patricia?

“Looks like the cold-front has arrived,” Sarah called from the front window, a box perched on her hip as she glanced back toward Iris. The young woman’s eyes turned to the window, blinking in shock at the white-out of flurries that had overtaken the view outside the storefront.

Her face pinched slightly uncomfortably, knowing that her walk home was going to be horrendous. “That’s gunna be so cold,” she mumbled to herself, but it was loud enough for Sarah to hear. It had been chilly enough on the walk in to work, heading home through the snow was going to be so much worse. Sarah gave her a pitying look before she turned to get back to work.

Instead of letting herself become distracted by thoughts of walking home, Iris collected one of the boxes that needed to be scanned through and took it to the main counter. Sarah continued to clean and organize the front displays—it was a quiet day and there was very little to do for the group without more customers coming in.

Iris herself had been there since five o’clock that morning, completing some of the reports that needed to be sent to the owners by the end of that week. Not wanting to wait and rush through it, she decided to come in a few hours before her usual time and get in a bit of silent work. She was feeling more exhausted as the day drew on, but at least her sleep the night before had been a fitful one until her alarm had gone off.

Of course, her day did not get any better when she got a call from David, who sounded like death, saying that he had tried but he wouldn’t be able to come in to work. As an old habit, she didn’t want to bother anyone else and just decided that she would stay for the full shift and close the store down as well. Jessica and Sarah both shooed her to the back for a long break, however, and made sure she ate the soup she had brought and even made her a tea with the kettle they had in the break room.

It made Iris wonder if they had gotten a lecture about how she was always doing things for them. Her boss definitely had not liked how she was always working, taking the weekend and evening shifts or filling in for the others when they did not or could not come in. It wouldn’t have surprised her if her employees had gotten a lecture during her forced days off.

“Do you want me to get you a tea? Or a coffee? How about-”

“Jessica,” Iris interrupted, her voice carrying an amused tone as she shook her head at the younger woman. “Calm down! I’m fine, I promise. There’s only a few more hours before close and the snow kept it quiet today. I promise I’ll head straight home and eat.”

“Remember, I’m opening the store tomorrow so I better not find you here early,” Jessica forewarned, pointing a threatening finger at the frail woman. “I swear, I’ll make you sleep in the break room.”

Shaking her head at Jess’s antics, Iris motioned toward the door. “Go home, Jess. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

She was given one more warning look before her new friend and old coworker disappeared out the door into the white flurries that had dominated the window most of the day. Supressing a yawn, Iris sat herself down at the main cash with some of the paperwork from the back office—she still had work that she needed to get done, even if she had to stay and help Sarah until closing.

The odd person or two would wander in throughout the day, making small or simple purchases that Iris handled easily and with little thought. Sarah kept up with cleaning and stocking to busy herself, giving Iris several assurances that she would take care of the aisles and to not worry. By the time the final hour rolled around, and it had been at least forty-five minutes since the last customer, Iris was tempted to send Sarah home early.

The shelves were spotless and there were no other boxes that needed to be put out, so there was nothing else for the young woman to do. Iris had even spent a good thirty minutes explaining to her how to run the computer programs that she used to manage all of the store’s books. Sarah just sat with a bewildered look on her face and they both decided that management was not something that she was interested in learning.

“It’s deserted today,” Iris finally declared, leaning against the counter as Sarah wandered by with a dusting rag. “You head on home, okay? I’ll stay and finish my paperwork and if someone does come by I can handle it.”

Sarah blinked at her owlishly. “Are you sure? I don’t mind staying!”

“There’s no point in both of us being bored out of our minds. Head on home, I’ll be fine.”

And then there was one.

Iris fought another yawn as she glanced at the computer screen. Just one more hour. Sitting back in her chair to rub at her tired eyes, the dark haired woman could feel them sting slightly with the effort she had been putting in to keep her eyes open.

She used to have no problem staying up for ungodly hours, but she’d been adjusting to a new way of living lately and now it seems going back to how things were would be impossible.

Sitting forward with a silent sigh, she tried to focus on the paperwork in front of her. Only a minute had gone by before her concentration was shattered, similar to the store window that exploded in a shower of glass as something was sent flying through it.

A shriek of surprise tore from her lips as Iris ducked behind the desk, too far for the object to reach but fear drawing the defensive reaction to the forefront. Her heart had rocketed into a galloping pace in her chest, hands shaking in fright against the edge of the counter. The roar of wind and the tinkling of glass hitting the once clean floors filled the silence of the store.

The rush of cold against her covered arms and bare neck made her shiver, skin already beginning to feel feverish from the sudden rush of adrenaline that flooded her system. Shivering and panting, Iris remained crouched and hidden as she waited and listened for any sign that the person who had broken the window might come inside.

However, even as time passed and nothing happened, she couldn’t bring herself to move. Trembling in fear and shivering from the cold, her hands gripped the desk above her head until her knuckles were white beneath her gloves. Eventually the distant sound of police sirens broke the silence, bringing her mind back to the present. She’d forgotten about the security system—if one of the doors were opened while the code was inputted, the police were alerted, but if a window was broken at any time the police were called immediately.

Trying to force her hands to relax on the edge of the desk, the sirens grew louder until the police cars came to a screeching halt outside of the store.

Taking in deep breaths of the cold air, Iris exhaled through trembling lips as she finally detached her hands from the desk. Shuffling out from her hiding place, she used the desk to support herself as she finally stood up and surveyed the damage. The front was a mess now, a combination of glass and snow covering the floor and surrounding displays.

The first thing that came to her mind was how the books were going to be ruined if they got snowed on.

“Police, don’t move!”

Iris jumped and choked back a gasp, hands shooting up as one of the officers stopped outside of the broken window. She was the only person visible in the store, so she could understand being suspicious.

“I’m the manager!” she shouted, her voice shaking. “My name is Iris Mayfair, my employers are Melissa and Gerald McIntosh. They would have been contacted as soon as the alarm was set off.”

“Please step out where I can see you, ma’am. Do you have ID on you?”

Walking around the desk on shaky legs, her hands still raised, Iris nodded. “My employee card; it’s with the keys around my wrist.” She shook her arm to demonstrate, causing the keys to jingle soundly and flash the little badge attached to it that had a barcode scanner for her to access the computers upon opening. Jess had one as well, for when she opened the store.

“Are you hurt?” the man asked as he stepped forward, some of the other officers entering behind him as they surveyed the damage and entered the store, checking through the aisles.

“No, I was behind the desk-”

“You have glass in your hair,” the officer interrupted gently once he had checked the ID on her wrist, comparing the information she had given to him with the name and photo on the card. Naturally, her hand lifted to her head to feel for the sharp projectiles. Thankfully, the officers caught her arm gently to stop her before she cut her hand. “No, don’t worry. It’s only a few pieces. Shake your head and they should fall right off.”

Iris did as instructed, shaking her head as she closed her eyes. She could feel when the fragments fell out, tapping down past her shoulders before they hit the already messy floor.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” the officers asked again—a glance at his shirt revealed his name was Montez—and Iris nodded her head dazedly. “Were you the only one working?”

Iris stood in the storefront with the officer as she answered his questions, giving him the time to write them down between answers. As the wind and snow continued to blow into the store, Iris steadily started to shiver more heavily. The adrenaline was bleeding from her system, causing her vision to blur in and out. Montez must have seen her sway on her feet because he abruptly stopped talking and reached out to claim her arm.

“Woah, let’s go sit you down. Is there a back office in this place? Somewhere warm?”

“Yes, just back down that aisle. There’s a door that leads to the stock-room at the end.”

The place was crawling with police by now, and one of them informed her and Montez that the owners were on their way down. There was a camera out front that might have caught the person who threw what turned out to be an old pipe through the window, but Iris didn’t have authorization to scroll back into the recorded footage so she was no help to them.

As they entered the back office to finish giving her statement, Iris found herself wishing that her soulmates were with her. Glancing at the nearest clock, she realized that they would be home by now and waiting for her to let them know that she was home safe.

Her shift had ended twenty minutes ago.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” Montez asked from across from her, worry clearly evident on his face as she trembled and stared blankly at the clock. “Is there someone you’d like me to call for you?”

Small and pale, Iris look like a terrified, small animal. The chair she was in made her appear that much smaller; her feet didn’t touch the floor and her boney frame was enveloped in the black leather of the chair-back. Montez felt like he was interviewing a terrified child. If she got any paler in her face, he’d be calling in the paramedics to check on her again. She looked on the verge of passing out.

The liquid gold of her eyes watered further as she gave a stuttered nod.

“Kevin Crumb,” she answered meekly. “His number is in my cellphone,” she answered, motioning to where she had left the phone on the office desk. She preferred not to have her cellphone with her when she was working, so she usually left it in the back office.

She was probably never going to do that again, not after what she had just experienced.

Montez nodded calmly, picking up the small phone and having her input the password before he stepped away. One of the other officers, a woman named Sinclair, came into the office briefly to inform Iris that her employers were here and she could leave once her statement was complete, they would help the police with anything else needed.

Iris just gave a short nod as she stared at the floor, yet to regain any colouring in her face.

Sinclair gave Montez a sympathetic look as she left, understanding that speaking to someone who was in shock could be a trying endeavor.

The ringing in his ear cut off, drawing his attention back to Iris’s phone. “Hey, Iris, you get home okay?” The casual question, filled with true concern, almost caused the officer to wince. He hated when he had to tell the unsuspecting spouse or loved one that something had happened. At least Iris appeared unhurt and he could offer that assurance.

“This is Officer Liam Montez; is this Kevin Crumb?”

There was a pause on the other end, silence filling the line for a long beat. “Where’s Iris?” the male voice demanded, upping in pitch as fear sharpened his words.

“Miss. Mayfair is fine; someone threw an item through the window of her store but she is safe and unharmed. It would be best if someone was with her right now, she’s in a bit of shock and will able to leave as soon as we finish getting her statement. She asked me to call you—are you able to come down to Pages of the World right now?”

“Yes, yea, I’m on my way. She’s alright? You said she wasn’t hurt?”

“She was far enough away that she only got a bit of glass in her hair, but no, she wasn’t hurt. I might recommend bringing her something warm, preferably tea or something that doesn’t have caffeine in it.”

“Can I talk to her, please? Just for a second?” the plea in the man’s words were impossible to ignore—Montez was certain, as he turned to hand the phone to Iris, that this was a soulmate he was dealing with.

Iris could barely hold onto the phone as she leaned her head heavily against the cellphone, into the pressure of Montez’s continued grip on the device. He was sure that she would have dropped it if he hadn’t helped hold it up. “Hello?” He couldn’t hear the man’s words, but Iris’s bow-tight body finally relaxed slightly at the sound of his voice.

Definitely soulmates.

“Hey, Sweetheart, it’s Barry. You okay? I’m on my way right now.”

“I don’t feel good,” Iris answered weakly, as though she was ashamed of her body’s reaction.

“That’s just the shock, Sweetheart. I’ll be there in ten, okay? Just try and take some deep breaths. Are you sitting down?”

“Mhm.” The conversation barely lasted a few seconds more before Iris suddenly dropped her hand, letting Montez pull the phone away. Glancing at the screen told him that the man had already ended the call, so he simply placed her phone on the desk as he reclaimed the other chair.

“Are you alright to continue?”

Swallowing thickly, Iris gave a tired nod as she met his eyes again.

Previous || Next

[bold-writing]

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 17 || The Absence of Fear

Words: 3000+

Warnings: None.

Previous || Next

~17~

Patricia had taken Iris out for groceries after the night she had spent sleeping beside her, stating that she did not care how small Iris was, she needed to eat more in order to be healthy. So, with a fully stocked kitchen and fridge, Iris had parted ways with Patricia after delaying the older woman with a long hug in the doorway of her apartment. Patricia didn’t seem to mind, and had just stroked Iris’s hair as she assured her that they would see one another soon.

Iris knew that she couldn’t be selfish—she couldn’t hold onto her soulmates all hours of the day because they had lives, too. She truly wished that she could; she wished that she never had to let them go.

However, she now had the thought that she could be with them much more; she had, after all, agreed to Patricia’s invitation about having a room made up for her. For her to think about such a drastic change in her life left her feeling old ghosts of panic, but it passed easily as she reminded herself of the comfort and security that came with having her soulmates nearby.

They had talked about it in more depth and Patricia made sure that she was fully aware they were not asking her to leave her apartment. They had no desire to rush her from her home, and only desired to offer her a safe place to sleep on nights when she felt her home wasn’t as safe as it used to be. She wasn’t sure when any of that may actually take place, since Patricia confessed that they had decided on it while she was sleeping, but knowing that it was a possibility in the near future was all she needed.

Standing in her kitchen as she finished the dinner she had picked out with Patricia, her plate scraped clean of any food, Iris looked at her laptop she had placed on the counter in order to read. She rarely used her laptop, not really liking the headaches that came from reading on the screen too much, but this seemed like a good time to bring it out.

On the first tab, information about apartments coming up for rent in her price-range, some saved or bookmarked to come back to at a later date, and the other tab held an article that Fletcher had released on Dissociative Identity Disorder. She knew that the soulmates she had met wouldn’t mind answering what questions she may have, but there were some things that she wanted to know going into a living situation.

Putting her dishes in the sink, filled a few inches with hot, soapy water, Iris picked up her laptop and half-filled mug of tea to take back to her bed and sit down. Crossing her legs and placing the computer in front of her, mug of tea in close reach on the nightstand, Iris returned her focus to the article.

This particular one was written only on the person with D.I.D., lacking anything to do with soulmates, and that was just what Iris was looking for. There wasn’t much information on soulmates of those with D.I.D. to begin with, so she didn’t concern herself too much with it and instead focused on studying the condition itself. She had tried to read other articles she had found, but they never seemed to portray the ‘subjects’ as people. Fletcher spoke of them as humans, and revealed that each identity was in fact their own person.

It wasn’t just someone hearing voices or showing signs of extreme bi-polar disorder; they were truly their own person, unique and different even if they all lived in one body.

Iris fully believed it, and not only because of the evidence provided by her soulmarks. It reminded her of the way each of her soulmates carried a different smell. Patricia had been wearing Barry’s clothes when she came to her, yet she smelled nothing like Barry except for the ghost of cologne that still clung to that material.

One of the things that irritated her with the other readings was also how they brought up treatments, explaining that the alters could be ‘cured’. They didn’t believe that alters were as real as the original identity and were all a part of a mental psychosis. That fact alone had her immediately abandoning those types of articles, always finding her way back to Fletcher’s work instead.

It was disappointing to know that there were so few people who supported Fletcher and her side of the research; from what Iris was reading, she had incredible evidence on her side. Yet she was forgotten in favour of others were went on about how these people could be ‘cured’ because they were sick. Knowing that Kevin had been through something terrible when he was younger, the exact reason that the alters existed, made Iris loathe those who said they were sick.

Kevin wasn’t sick, he was abused and afraid. She knew that feeling; she knew the desire to have something or someone there to protect you from the pain that was happening. The alters saved him, and they continue to protect him every day. You cannot cure fear. You cannot cure memories. You cannot cure a person from within a person. That would be like saying Barry, Luke, BT and Patricia were diseases.

Slamming her laptop closed and pushing it away from herself, Iris released a huff of frustration as she glared at the tiny computer. How dare they? How dare they think that they could ever understand what had happened to those who were abused, those who did all they could to protect themselves.

If anything, the people in the world with D.I.D were better than those without; their minds had done something that no one else thought possible in the past. They had literally become more in order to survive the circumstances which had created them.

“They don’t understand,” she muttered to herself, looking down at her arms to take in the visible marks along her forearms and hand. “They didn’t live through what we did.”

Clenching her marked hand into a fist, she pushed aside the irritation and anger that bubbled inside her chest in favour of focusing on those who she had met so far. There were still so many others there for Kevin—and for her, she was beginning to realize—that it warmed her heart. She wanted to know them all. She wanted to thank them all.

If the alters had not become who they were, there was a likely possibility that Kevin would not have survived to meet her.

For any of them to meet her.

Perhaps…she could help Dr. Fletcher.

These days, soulmarks made everything legitimate. If she were to let Fletcher use her and Kevin—with all twenty-three of his alters—as an example that would prove they were real, that the other identities really existed, maybe they could help others to open their eyes. It would be the most terrifying thing she would ever do, exposing herself to the world in such a manner, but it might just be the way of saving others like her and Kevin in the future.

Sighing as she leaned back into her pillows, head coming to rest on the headboard of her bed, Iris closed her eyes.

It wasn’t going to be an easy decision—she barely came up with the courage to talk with the older woman in the first place. Voluntarily putting herself into view of all those who hate someone like her?

Suddenly, her parents didn’t scare her quite as much.

What would the other people in the world think? She and her soulmates would be hated, hunted and possibly attacked for what they were; for being different. Because the world couldn’t stand those who were different—they didn’t understand them, they feared them, and wanted to remove that which caused so much confusion in their perfect lives.

Collecting her laptop from the bed and placing it safely back in her case, Iris then perched on the end of her bed as she tried to relieve herself of the anxiety building up in her chest. She never thought the day would come that she would be debating on exposing herself so openly to the public.

The ways meeting a soulmate—or soulmates—changed her never really seemed to end.

That was the excuse she used when she found herself standing outside of Karen Fletcher’s office the next day, tugging nervously on the sleeves of her winter jacket as her heart raced in her chest nervously. The older woman was understandably surprised when Iris asked if she could come and see her; stating that she wanted to help in any way she could to bring awareness to those with Dissociative Identity Disorder.

She was left to wait as Dr. Fletcher finished with her previous appointment; such was the curse of always showing up early to things.

The waiting gave her time to regret her decision, but she forced herself to remain where she was and do as she had placed her mind. Strong and sure. That is what her soulmates were making her become, someone who was strong and sure.

The door to Dr. Fletcher’s office opened and Iris respectfully kept her eyes on the window as she listened to the person quietly tell the doctor farewell. Soft heels tapped slowly down the stairs as the other client left, prompting Iris to look over her shoulder to where Fletcher was waiting with a faint smile on her lips. “Come in, Iris.”

Bowing her head in thanks, Iris slipped passed Fletcher and entered the familiar office while she slowly undid the buttons of her coat. “I…I wanted to apologize for how I ran out on you, Doctor. I just-”

“Oh, dear, there’s absolutely no reason for you to apologize to me!” Fletcher rushed to dismiss Iris’s concerns, waving her hands as she moved over to take the chair that she had occupied the last time Iris was there.

Draping her coat over the back of her chair, Iris ignored the glance she received from Fletcher when she exposed herself more than she had the previous visit. Her arms were still covered by longer sleeves, but she had removed the thick, protective barrier of her jacket. Settling into the chair with a faint sigh, Iris couldn’t quite bring herself to relax as she repeated “this is for them” over and over in her head. She was doing this for her soulmates; they were the ones who were thought to not exist.

“I want the world to know they’re real,” she began right away, lacing her fingers above her lap as she met Fletcher’s surprised gaze. “The alters; I want people to stop thinking that they can be ‘cured’ and removed from existence. I want to help people realize that the identities created are real people, just with a shared body.”

Fletcher’s aged face softened with a smile as she lifted a hand to press her fingertips against her lips. “I see that they have changed you, Iris.” Her comment made the younger woman blush, looking away. They had, it was clear to see, even if she hadn’t spoken a single word. “If you don’t mind me asking, how many have you met?”

“Four,” Iris answered. Fletcher knew how many alters there were in Kevin’s body, so she would also be aware of the number of soulmates that Iris had. “Barry, Luke, BT and Patricia.”

Fletcher’s eyebrows went up in surprise, sitting forward in her chair suddenly. “Patricia? How was that meeting? I understand that many people become…unsettled when it comes to meeting a woman in a man’s body.”

A small frown pinched Iris’s expression, but it faded quickly as she thought back to when she had woken up to Patricia at her door. “I was having a nightmare and the others could feel it—the more soulmates I meet, the stronger an emotional connection we have—and Patricia came over and woke me up when she knocked on the door. Having her there was very…comforting. I didn’t have any trouble with the fact that she was an alter in Kevin’s body.”

Fletcher’s smile returned, nodding her head gratefully. Iris truly was perfect as their soulmate.

“Are you sure you’re ready to help them? To do what must be done to help people understand?”

Iris bowed her head a moment, falling silent as she, yet again, considered the other woman’s questions. They were the same ones that she had been asking herself.

“I’ve spent so long being scared; looking over my shoulder and fearing every shadow. I don’t want to do this forever. And…reading up on Dissociative Identity Disorder showed me that they really don’t think that these alters are…real. They think that with therapy and pills they’ll just disappear and I hate the thought of that. But these soulmarks are one thing that they consider…strong. They indicate that these alters are real people.”

Fletcher relaxed back into her seat as she smiled softly at the young woman before her. “Look at you, Iris. You’ve changed.”

I know.

Seeing her begin to fidget, Fletcher was quick to stray from that particular direction of conversation. “If you decide to do this, is can be completely anonymous; no identifying information will be given out. Perhaps if you and the others sign over consent for other professionals to study your situation, but that is entirely up to you.”

“I haven’t spoken to the others about any of this, so I can’t give you an answer for them. However, if you can promise me that it will be anonymous, then I’ll do it.” She closed her eyes as soon as the words left her mouth, forcing herself not to go back on them now.

She was not afraid. She would not hide. This was the decision she had made, on her own and with her own reasons.

“I’m very proud of you, Iris,” Fletcher confessed as she smiled at the younger woman again. Her expression provided the truth to her words; she looked at Iris like a grandmother would, basking in the accomplishments of her family. “And you should be proud of yourself.”

“I am,” she admitted bashfully. “Terrified, but proud.”

Fletcher shuffled toward the edge of her seat, moving closer to Iris as she continued to smile softly. “Talk to them about this, I’m sure they will be happy to support you if this is truly what you want. They’ve been trying to find a way to prove that they are real for a long time. One of the most upsetting things for them is to hear that people don’t think they are alive—real people that can feel emotional pain from the words of others.”

Iris’s face pinched in pain, sorrowed to know that her soulmates were being hurt.

“Is there anything else you would like to speak about while you’re here?” Fletcher prompted gently.

However, as much as Iris had improved since meeting her soulmates, the prompt still had her immediately coiling in on herself like taut spring. “No, that’s alright. Maybe…in time, but not yet.”

Holding up a hand to stall the woman’s hesitant stumbled, Fletcher shook her head. “That’s perfectly fine, dear. I’m not here to push or force. Just know that if there is ever someone you need to talk to, and you don’t want to say it to your soulmates, I will happily lend an ear. Whether you want my opinion or not is up to you. If you just want to talk and let something off your chest, I am here.”

Letting out a long, slow exhale, Iris offered a shaky smile and nodded her head.

Rising to her feet, Iris made up her mind. “I’ll talk to the others first, but I’m sure you’ll be seeing me again soon,” she explained calmly, quietly, as she collected her coat back over her arm and turned to face Fletcher with a soft look in his whiskey eyes.

That look alone told Fletcher that things were changing, and they were for the better. This young woman, as fragile and broken as she was, had a strength inside of her that was necessary for the soulmate for twenty-three separate identities. It was a hidden, buried strength, but it was there all the same. The more time that passed after having met and reconciled with Barry, the more visible that strength became. “I hope to see you again soon, dear. Say hello to the others for me?”

Nodding her head with a peaceful smile, much better than the tense one that had been growing as they spoke, Iris turned for the door. “I will, Dr. Fletcher. Have a good day.”

Once Iris had departed, the older woman leaned back in her chair with a soft and thoughtful hum. If the others supported Iris and they were able to use the soulmarks shared between the two bodies, there was a possibility that favour could finally be tipped in their direction. However, that did not mean that it would not be a struggle for them—especially for Iris. As much as Fletcher thrilled at the thought of solid proof, finally, that others would struggle to argue…she did not want to damage the small woman further.

Proud as she was that Iris was refusing to let her fear rule her, Fletcher was deeply concerned that the fear is also what had kept her safe for so long. Even with her soulmates there, Iris would be in danger of a dark change in her life.

Glancing over to the chair that the young woman had vacated, she could only hope that this would not turn out to be a terrible mistake. As much as she wished to reveal to the world the truth behind all of her years of research, she did not want to do so at the expense of Iris’s happiness and safety, and that of her soulmates.

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[bold-writing]

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 16 || For I Am Wanted

Words: 3500+

Warnings: None

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~16~

Iris was warm and comfortable, tucked beneath her duvet with her spare pillow clutched close to her chest. She felt secure and warm, wrapped in protection. With her mind still sluggish from sleep, she didn’t think about the nightmares that had been tormenting her, or the appearance of a new soulmate that had comforted her the night before. Sleep clouded her mind, leaving her blissfully peaceful in the cusp-of-waking moments. Sighing into her pillow as she turned her face into the soft fabric, the petite woman relaxed in the calm morning silence of her apartment.

A soft smell drifted from her pillowcase, however, and caused her eyes to flutter in concentration as she inhaled delicately. Faint perfume and a homey kitchen smell. Her breath hitched as the recognition of the scent came to mind, bringing the memories of the night before back to the forefront of her mind.

Patricia! She’d come to her when she felt the distress that had been induced by Iris’s nightmare the night before. Remembering their long embraces as she calmed her, helped her to breathe and relax after the breakdown that had left her gasping and hiccupping, left the woman’s cheeks flushed with heat. She’d clung to her soulmate like a terrified child, even went so far as to beg her to stay, and those words were forever marked across her skin. Patricia had taken it all in stride, which she was grateful for, but embarrassment at her own desperate actions left Iris half afraid to look around herself.

Where was Patricia?

They’d been sitting against her headboard after she had exposed her scarred mark, Patricia’s soft words working better than a lullaby as Iris had steadily drifted back to sleep, the images of her soulmates overtaking any thoughts of her parents and therefore chasing away possible nightmares. She’d dreamt of BT, and Barry and Luke, the alters that she had met and could conjure in her sleeping mind. Patricia’s voice was a soft constant in the back of her mind, as though she was narrating the story of Iris’s dreams.

Only when Iris finally wondered where Patricia was—was she even still in the apartment?—did she feel a tightening weight around her waist that abruptly drew her back a few inches. Her body slid across her sheets with little effort; a combination of her light weight and the strength behind who was pulling her. No fear accompanied her abrupt move—somehow she already knew who would be there when she turned to look.

Well, not exactly who.

She knew that it would be the body of her soulmates, but which soulmate was a toss-up at this point.

Craning her neck slowly, Iris came face to face with the slumbering face of Kevin’s body. His arms were tight around her waist as he spooned her from behind, his face only a couple of inches away from where the back of her neck had been a moment ago.

Moving as slowly and carefully as she could, Iris rolled over beneath the hold of one strong arm so she could face her soulmate properly. The arm not over her waist was pulled in close to his chest, almost as though Patricia had fallen asleep while afraid to touch Iris too much, and the dark haired woman smiled softly at the sight.

Barry had spent the night with her once before, sleeping even closer to her than Kevin’s body was now, yet this time felt so different. She knew more of the identities behind the ever changing expressions, behind the words that covered her body. Somehow, this time, it felt so much more personal. Perhaps it was the connection between them, strengthened four-fold now, or it could be the trust and comfort that she had felt when Patricia had held her the night before.

It was new and refreshing; a welcome change.

Reaching out to gently take Kevin’s larger hand in one of her delicate ones, Iris shifted a couple of inches closer as she relaxed toward the heat that seemed to emanate from his body. Letting her eyes close, she missed the shift in expression on her soulmate’s face; the brows pinched down for the shortest moment, a slowly waking mind concentrating on what it was feeling.

As Iris continued to breathe and relax, unable to do more than slowly slip into a light doze once more, blue eyes opened to gaze at the peaceful expression she wore. Her hand was still loosely holding theirs, the small digits warmed from sleep, and he could feel the gentle breaths that whispered against his knuckles from the way her head was angled while she breathed.

Her hair was messed from sleep, and there were indents in her cheeks from the creases in her pillowcase, but the shadows beneath her eyes had faded throughout the many hours that Patricia had left her to sleep. She was beautiful as she lay before him; the delicate slope of her neck teased him and coaxed him to touch, while her gently parted lips were almost too close to bear. She remained mostly covered by the duvet, but the arm that had been draped over her when he woke gave him the impression of a thin waist with a smooth curve toward her hips.

He needed to return the light to Patricia, he knew, yet he was reluctant to leave when he had only just been given the chance to see her. Listening to the others speak of their soulmate, it made his heart ache to know that she was still out of his reach. But here she was; leaning into him, holding his hand as she allowed his arm to remain draped over her small form.

Lifting his free hand, he couldn’t resist the temptation to gently stoke the backs of his fingers along her jawbone, up over the softness of her cheek and into the silky tresses of sleep-mussed hair. She was soft and warm. Cradling the back of her head, he drew closer to her until she was nestled beneath his chin. The minimal movement served to keep her asleep and even prompted her to lean in closer when his warmth registered as being closer to her sleeping mind.

He didn’t want to give her up, to share her with the others. They would try and keep her from him, thinking that she would be better off, be safer.

He was the one who would keep her safe. In the end, it was Dennis who protected Kevin, who protected the other identities. Iris was his to protect as well, and he would never let her go.

Sleep now, Dennis, Patricia whispered gently in his mind. Everyone is safe.

Most of the identities in Kevin’s body had lost many hours of sleep over the past few days; ever since Iris’s father had returned and left her awake in fear for an entire night. Dennis slept the least out of everyone. He couldn’t relax when he knew that there was something he could do, yet Barry wouldn’t let any of them get the light long enough to go to her. He didn’t want to pressure Iris, he didn’t want her to find them suffocating after she had literally fled from him when he had first said his words to her.

Dennis disagreed, of course. She was terrified, yes, but there was never going to be a change if they didn’t show her that there was no reason to fear them.

Patricia had finally had enough and convinced Hedwig to steal the light from Barry after he had begun to doze off from exhaustion, the nagging discomfort in their chest barely enough to make sleep difficult. When told that he was helping to save their soulmate, Hedwig had happily jumped at the chance and gave the light over to Patricia. She hadn’t even waited long enough to change from Barry’s sleep clothes, pulling on a pair of his shoes and rushing from their home.

“Did she save her, Mr. Dennis?” Hedwig had lisped out once Patricia arrived at Iris’s, calming the over-tired and distraught woman.

“Yes,” Dennis assured. “Good job, Hedwig.”

The child beamed at the praise and climbed back into his own chair, grinning away as he repeated Dennis’s praise in his mind over and over. It wasn’t often that Dennis said kind words to him; usually Patricia would be the nice one—so long as he didn’t do something to upset her—so he was absolutely ecstatic with Dennis’s simple words.

Shh, sleep, Dennis.

Closing his eyes and pulling Iris just a bit closer, Dennis finally succumbed to his exhaustion.

It was well into the noon hours when Iris woke again, ducking her head toward her chest as she tried to cover a large yawn that left a tweak in her jaw. She could see light through her eyelids, telling her that the sunlight was steaming in through her windows. It had already been bright out when she’d fallen back asleep, so how late was it now?

“I was wondering when you would wake up.”

Opening her eyes and lifting her head, Iris turned her attention to the figure sitting on the edge of the bed, blocking the sunlight from where she was lying. “Patricia,” she greeted with a faint smile. “You stayed.”

“Of course,” she answered quietly, as though she was trying not to wake Iris entirely. “You asked me to stay,” she pointed out a moment later. It was true, even though Iris had begged her more than asked her. The words were forever marked on Patricia’s skin, proof of how desperately Iris had wanted someone to be there for her.

Sitting up and pushing her hair from her face, Iris repressed the urge to yawn again as she stretched her back out with her arms over her head. Patricia smiled softly at the sight; she looked like a cat waking from a nap. Iris wasn’t aware of the appraising stare as she lowered her arms down with a sigh again, rolling her neck in the process. She hadn’t slept that long or that deeply in a long time, so now her body was uncomfortably stiff.

Patricia rose from the bed as Iris looked back to her, the sunlight catching her eyes and brightening the amber beautifully, while also prompting Iris to blink. “Thank you for staying, Patricia. I can’t remember the last time I slept so well.”

The older woman gave a sweet, secretive smile. She had been able to put Iris to sleep the first time, but it was Dennis that had drawn her in close and helped to subconsciously keep the woman calm and slumbering without nightmares. After confirming that Iris was safe in her hands, the other alters had gone to sleep and left Patricia and Dennis. When he had requested that she let him take the light, assuring her that he only wished to see that Iris was truly safe, Patricia had easily allowed him control of their body.

He had barely been on the cusp of consciousness when Iris had turned over and taken his hand. So small and delicate, she felt like warm snow—soft and fragile, easily marked and hurt.

Patricia knew that Dennis would do anything for their soulmate. Already, after only one meeting, he was enamored with the tiny woman. For Iris, he would do anything.

“Are you feeling better, dear?” she asked instead, leaning down to brush Iris’s hair aside so that she could get a proper look at her face. The shadows beneath her eyes had faded some, and the redness from her crying the night before had eased as well. “You look better.”

“My skin feels dry from crying, but other than that I’m okay,” Iris admitted. She was relieved that she didn’t have a headache—in the past, crying before she went to sleep almost always guaranteed a migraine upon waking the next day. She wasn’t sure if it was Patricia having calmed her before she went to sleep or the longer hours that she had been able to sleep in peace, but Iris was thankful none the less.

Nodding, pleased, Patricia straightened again and looked over to Iris’s modest kitchen. “You don’t have very much to eat here, but would you like any coffee or tea?”

Finally realizing that Patricia was in her apartment, technically a guest in her home, Iris sprung from her sheets with a stuttered apology. “I’m sorry, I should have offered you something! I’ll-”

Iris couldn’t even passed Patricia to get to the kitchen before her shoulders were grabbed and she was stopped in her tracks. “Calm down, dear. I’m here to help you, I don’t need you to wait on me.” Smiling as she stroked over Iris’s hair, still soft even after sleeping, she faintly shook her head. “No need to worry about me. I just wanted you to sleep for as long as you needed.”

Relaxing under Patricia’s warm hands, Iris nodded slowly. “Thank you for letting me sleep.”

Tucking a strand of hair behind her small soulmates ear, Patricia straightened up again and turned to the kitchen. “So, coffee or tea?”

Iris couldn’t say that she really knew Patricia, even with how much the other woman had spoken last night, but she had heard enough from BT and Luke that she was aware this was not a battle she would win. “Tea, please,” she finally answered and took a seat on the edge of her bed, allowing her to face where Patricia was walking around her kitchen to collect what she would need for tea.

She seemed to know where everything was, so Iris assumed that she had been awake long enough to familiarize herself with the kitchen. For some reason, the thought of Patricia making herself at home didn’t bother Iris; usually she was very particular about who could go through her things, but her soulmates didn’t seem to draw forth the same protective, private instincts.

“Do you have a favourite?” Patricia asked as she motioned to Iris’s collection—the same one that Barry had gawked at when he’d seen it.

“Dried apple and cinnamon,” she answered immediately. It was usually one that she reserved for especially cold days during the winter or fall, but it was also a flavor that brought her great comfort. And comfort was definitely something she needed.

Patricia hummed curiously as she selected the labelled tin and spooned some into Iris’s tea press, the kettle already full and heating on the stove. Iris knew that it had been empty when she went to sleep, and Patricia had not filled it as she watched. The older woman caught where Iris was looking, eyes settled on the simple kettle, and smiled.

She was a perceptive little thing.

“I was going to make you a tea earlier,” Patricia started as she re-sealed the tea-tin and placed it back on the shelf. “However, I realized that I did not know which you liked most, and I was unsure when you would wake up.” Iris nodded in understanding, folding her hands in her lap. That’s how Patricia knew where everything was. “I didn’t want you to wake up to a cold tea.”

“Maybe if it was a warmer day,” Iris countered. “Cold tea is sometimes very refreshing.”

Patricia pointed at Iris, as though she strongly agreed. “Let’s see if you can convince the others of that, hm? Some of them are much too addicted to carbonated drinks; I can only imagine the horrors they are doing to their teeth.”

Iris couldn’t fight the broad grin that came to her lips. This was the Patricia that Luke had been speaking about. This exact moment, when she was motherly and concerned, wanting to consider the health of the alters—especially when it came to what they were putting in their body. “I’ll see what I can do,” she promised with laughter in her tone. “But I’m not a miracle worker.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself so short, dear,” Patricia protested. “I think they will give anything for you. Just you wait and see.”

Flushing under the other woman’s insinuation, Iris politely excused herself and rushed to the bathroom at a controlled pace. Leaning against the counter once she was by herself, she repressed the urge to either break down in a fit of giggles or start sobbing again—however, this time it would not be in fear. Instead, she took a couple of breaths before she wiped at her face with cold water to wash away the remnants of sleep.

She ran a brush through her hair, though the knots thankfully hadn’t built up again, and brushed her teeth quickly. Not wanting to leave her soulmate waiting, Iris finished up in the bathroom quickly and stepped back out. Patricia was pouring the boiling water into Iris’s tea-press, her back to her as she worked, and Iris just took a moment to look at her.

Even though she was wearing men’s clothing, Patricia stood in a way that differentiated her from the male personalities that Iris had met up until then. They were more rigid, even Barry when he was relaxed, and had a more erect posture. Patricia was soft, even though she carried the same muscle that the men did, and it came through in the way that she stood. She was also more slow and precise in her movements, matching her soft way of speaking.

“Is something the matter, dear?” Patricia asked suddenly, turning to look at Iris over her shoulder.

“No,” Iris assured immediately, a soft smile gracing her features before she’d even thought to proceed with the action. “Kinda perfect, actually.”

Patricia smiled in response, warmed at the younger woman’s kind, accepting words. Blood rushed to Iris’s cheeks and she looked away bashfully, suddenly wondering what had come over her to actually confess such a thing to Patricia. “What do you like in your tea?” Patricia asked instead, letting the sudden comment slide.

Blinking away her sudden sheepishness, Iris pushed away from the bathroom doorway. “Just black for me.” Nodding in approval, Patricia collected the tea and brought it over to Iris. As she did so, the smaller woman noticed another mug sitting on the counter with steam wafting from the surface. “Thank you. Did you make one for yourself?”

“Yes, just green for me. You have very nice leaves, I’m sure it will taste perfect,” Patricia answered honestly, retrieving her tea once Iris was cradling her warm, cinnamon scented tea in her hands. Returning to sit on the edge of the bed next to Iris, Patricia’s expression grew more serious as she looked from the pristine white mug in her hands, filled with soft green-tinted water, to meet Iris’s amber-whiskey eyes.

She noticed Patricia’s change in expression immediately. “Is something wrong?”

“I have something to ask you, dear, if that’s alright?” she began cryptically, worrying Iris from her moment of calm and peace.

“What…what is it?”

“It’s not bad,” Patricia added quickly, realizing the error of how she had started. “It’s just…we were wondering, if we were to make up a room for you at home, would you be willing to take it as a sanctuary from this?”

Iris was left staring in silent shock, eyes wide as they looked into the soft blue of Patricia’s. A place in their home? A sanctuary? The offer was far more appealing than she would have expected, but after the night that she had endured—the nights that her soulmates endured through her—it was like the offering of water in the desert. She did not know where they lived, therefore that meant her parents were just as ignorant.

Her father wouldn’t be able to leave notes taped to their door.

He could leave messages on her phone until he was blue in the face, but he wouldn’t be able to find her.

And her soulmates would be right there. Patricia had run across town just to get to her, because she had been having a bad dream. If nightmares were to occur in the future, they would be so close. Even just the thought of having her soulmates close warmed her from the heart. Each time she spoke with them, saw them, thought of them—there was something within her that stirred with happiness. There was nothing in the world more precious to her than her soulmates. Not anymore.

Patricia could see as she was thinking, watching as the emotions played across her face with each new thought. “Dear?” Iris’s face softened with a smile, her eyes becoming glossy with the urge to cry. “Oh, dear, what-”

“No, happy tears,” Iris interrupted, waving off the woman’s concern as her smile continued to grow. “You would all really take me? You…you want me-” She couldn’t find the proper words to speak what she was feeling. It was like the emotion was on the tip of her tongue, but she just didn’t find the words to form it.

Understanding dawned in Patricia’s eyes before she leaned forward to wrap on arm around Iris, careful not to spill her tea in the process. “We will always want you, Iris. And at the moment, what we want most is to know that you are safe. With us.” Shifting her hold, Patricia used her free hand to wipe at the tears just barely tipping over the cusp of Iris’s lashes

Iris whimpered softly at the gentle contact. “Thank you.”

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