She nods, moving her thumb across my cheek.
“It hurts?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“Terribly?”
Yeah, like getting hit by a bus. Over and over, until you black out.
“I’m used to it by now.”
Her eyes narrow as I parrot her excuses, but she doesn’t ask again.
“Did I scare you?” I ask.
“A little.”
“I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to?—”
“Oh, no.” She cuts me off. “I was just scared you wouldn’t wake up. You were…”
Her voice trails off, but I know what she’s thinking.
‘Fucking gone’ are the words I would choose.
The last few hours are a complete blur. I remember the rattling metal as the door slammed shut, and the clank of the keys as the lock clicked into place. The next thing I know, I’m waking up with Iris in my arms in a room much different from the cage I’d been in. I don’t even remember how I got here.
“What did I do?” I ask.
Her brow lifts, and brace myself as she glares at me.
It must have been something heinous for her to be so silent.
“You apologized. And then you insulted me.”
“I what?”
“Yeah, you told me I was disgustingly beautiful. Actually, no, ‘so beautiful, it’s disgusting.’”
Her finger bounces through the air with each word, careful not to miss any, and I cringe, rolling onto my back.
“That’s not an insult,” I say, counting the stars on the ceiling.“That’s just embarrassing.”
I’m not sure what I was expecting Iris’s room to look like. I’d never really thought about it before. But, seeing it now, it makes sense.
Every inch is covered in her.
From the walls plastered with ancient literature to the collection of teacups above her desk. Even the well-organized quills. It’s her. A place where she doesn’t have to hide.
On the top shelf, I spot the book I’d given her, wedged between her other favorites like a small trophy, and I can’t help but smile.
“Yeah, well, it sounded like an insult,” she says, joining me on her back.
“Well, it’s not.”
“Okay, fine.”
“Fine.”
