Chapter Thirty-Seven
Iris hummed as she sipped her coffee. It felt like a good morning. The sun was out, lighting the early morning hours around them as she and Barrett walked to work, and, now, they had delicious coffee from one of the places on Barrett’s list.
“Definitely caramel notes,” she told Barrett as they switched cups.
Barrett sipped it and nodded, positively lighting up. “Absolutely right. Along with… maybe a touch of vanilla and almost stone fruit? Just a hint.”
Iris laughed. “You’re so much better at this than I am.”
“Hey, you got the caramel.”
“Oh, the most obvious flavor? Look at me go.”
“I always do.”
Iris sucked in a breath, feeling herself heating up. It was becoming ridiculous that they hadn’t actually kissed yet. They were so together. But she knew why they hadn’t. The last few weeks had been clouded by negative things she didn’t want defining any more of the beginning of their relationship.
The good news was that she was starting to feel better.
They’d spent a lot of time together—loads of it, actually.
They’d hung out with Oscar—who was currently trotting along between them—and Ruby, Deepti, and Anya plenty.
Life had started to feel radiant and colorful again.
As if, every time she stepped out of the house, she wasn’t going to run into Natasha.
The fear still lingered like a creeping presence down her spine, but Iris was finally starting to feel settled.
She felt like she had a place she belonged, one where she could be herself and people would still love her—one where she was actually getting to figure out who she was. It was nice.
Barrett tapped the cup Iris was holding. “Try that one. You’ll see, it’s very different.”
It wasn’t the first time they’d tried these tasting games, and Iris could always tell the flavor was different, but she hadn’t yet come close to Barrett’s lofty heights of nailing the exact notes in every cup of coffee she bought.
They had, however, agreed that a lot of dark roasts simply tasted burnt and that wasn’t either of their favorite.
Today, they had a medium roast—the one she’d already tasted—and a light roast.
Iris tried sniffing at the tiny hole through which she was about to drink. There was something but not enough to name. At least, not when it was combined with the scents of the city waking up.
She sipped it. Barrett had been right, of course.
“Huh.” She took another sip. “Almost… fruity?”
Barrett nodded encouragingly, her dimples appearing as she took in Iris’ response. “Any idea which fruits?”
If anyone had asked her a few months ago, Iris would never have been expecting to say a coffee was fruity, but it was undeniably so.
Apparently, there was a whole world of coffee she’d been thus far unaware of, and Barrett was only too happy to help initiate her.
She also really had been tracking Iris’ preferences, so she always knew from the first sip if Iris was going to like something or not. It was overwhelmingly sweet.
Iris pursed her lips, considering. “Honestly, maybe strawberry? Tangerine?”
“Not bad, princess. We’ll make a master taster out of you yet.”
“I don’t think I’m quite that good.”
“Keep spending time with me and we’ll get you there.”
“I intend to,” Iris said as she stepped in front of Barrett to open their office door.
Barrett’s inhale was audible, just like it was every time Iris suggested she was planning on sticking with Barrett. It made Iris’ insides feel melty and hot.
“So, uh,” Barrett said after clearing her throat when they got inside, “for the pitch, I wanted to talk to you about lighting…”
Iris grinned as she scooped Oscar up and watched Barrett unpack their bagels.
He had been such a permanent fixture in her heart for so long now, but, somehow, spending more time together outside the office didn’t stop him from spending most of their workdays sitting in her lap.
She secretly loved it, like it was always and would always be their special thing.
She watched Barrett place the third bagel on Penn’s desk. Big news days needed big bagel accompaniments. But, when Barrett turned back to her, Iris’ stomach dropped a little, her hold on Oscar tightening. He looked up at her curiously.
“I know it was a really shit night in the end, and you can tell me to fuck off if you don’t even want to mention it, but I was thinking about the lighting where Anya had her birthday party…
” Barrett’s expression was pained as she kept her distance, letting Iris take whatever space she needed, physically and emotionally.
“Oh.” Something chilling shot through Iris but it was possible to move past it, to think about the building and Barrett, rather than everything else that had happened that night. “Yeah, it was nice. Anya joked the place would serve as inspiration for my next project.”
“Do we feel okay about that?”
Iris felt tingly inside. We, like whatever Iris felt about the night was okay, Barrett would be right there feeling it with her.
She’d been a ‘we’ in name before, but never in practice. She liked it better this way.
She nodded. “The night was shit in the end, but the place really wasn’t. Deepti works there, so I’m sure we’ll be back at some point making better memories, and… you love lighting design.”
Barrett laughed softly, stepping into Iris’ space. “I really do.”
Iris loved that about her. “And I think that style would work great for, like, a courtyard—entrance way, maybe.”
“Exactly what I was thinking, princess. I love it when you read my mind.”
Iris laughed, melting into Barrett’s chest when she reached for her, Oscar snuggled between them. “Yeah, yeah, maybe you’re a decent architect after all.”
“Was that ever in doubt?” Barrett scowled comically at her. “I have it on good authority that you’ve always liked my work.”
“Hm. Did I say that? Maybe I was just trying to butter you up.”
“Hey, if that’s what you’re into, butter me right up.”
“Oh, my god.” Iris’ forehead collided with Barrett’s shoulder as she groaned.
Barrett, however, found the whole thing hilarious.
“Anyway,” she said when Iris straightened up, “I was thinking the glow of the lights they used would be great for the hallways, too. In a project like this, people are going to try saving money by putting next to no thought into the lighting design in shared spaces. It’ll be utilitarian in the hallways at best. We can stand out by making it actually inviting. ”
Iris smiled softly, watching her as she rifled through the documents they’d already been working on together.
It was so Barrett, and Iris loved that. She loved the passion.
She loved the light in Barrett’s eye when she talked about the project.
And she loved the way Barrett cared, the way she considered every little part of living in a complex like that.
Her heart thudded hard as she thought about the fact that she just loved Barrett.
It didn’t terrify her as much as she once feared falling for someone might, because it was Barrett.
She was wonderful, everything Iris could ever hope for.
If she’d been given a hundred years, Iris wasn’t sure she’d have been able to dream up someone she adored as much as Barrett, someone who made her feel so perfect in exactly who she was, and who she’d never change a single thing about.
The only thing she’d change would be the world for Barrett.
If she could dream up a world where Barrett was safe and happy and loved forever, she absolutely would. That was being in love.
“I sketched this,” Barrett said, looking both proud and a little nervous as she showed Iris.
Iris had never wanted to stroke a screen before, but it was beautiful, even just in plan form. She could imagine how perfect it would be in person. “I love it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
Barrett’s grin was luminous, and Iris couldn’t resist reaching up to touch one of her dimples. Her thumb fit perfectly.
“Iris,” Barrett breathed, making Iris feel boneless.
Barrett, for so long, had been the one person with a nickname for her.
Everyone else called her Iris, it had always been her name.
Now, it felt like it belonged to Barrett, like every part of her did.
Nobody ever said her name like Barrett did—reverent, worshipping, almost baffled, like she couldn’t understand that Iris would want to be so close to her.
But Iris adored her. She wanted to be impossibly close to her for the rest of time.
When they died, she wanted to be scattered to the wind together, tangled into one for the rest of eternity.
She’d never believed in an afterlife, but if one did exist, the only person she’d want to spend it with was Barrett.
Eternal happiness only ever looked like her.
She took another step closer, adjusting Oscar to allow her body to press into Barrett’s.
Barrett put the tablet down, one hand immediately snaking around Iris’ back, thumb playing over the rolls she’d made abundantly clear she was a fan of. “You’re so beautiful,” she said, like she’d been aching to say it all her life.
“So are you.” Iris could barely get the words out when Barrett slid her other hand up into her hair. If she’d had any questions about whether they were finally going to kiss, they evaporated instantly.
“Not too gothic for you?”
Iris’ quiet laugh quivered, but she shook her head, eyes slipping shut as she leaned in closer so her nose brushed Barrett’s. “You just like black. It’s different.”
“Is it?” Her whisper ghosted over Iris’ lips, raising goosebumps on her entire body.
“Yes. But, for the record, you’d be beautiful if you were a goth, if you were a bubblegum princess, if you were anything you wanted to be in the world.”
“You’d still like me if I came in tomorrow dressed in neon yellow?”
Iris laughed again. “Yes. Because it’s about who you are, Barrett. It’s you I think is beautiful, just you.”
Barrett’s breath was impossibly shaky as she let out a squeaky exhale. “Princess, can you kiss me now?”