𝟮𝟬

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𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙘𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙚𝙬𝙞𝙨
Iris had stuck by her word- much to my delight- and trailed home along side me around half an hour after we'd spoken about leaving. I'd been adamant on the girl staying and going out into town afterwards with the rest of them, but she was having none of it. I'd also silently hoped that Lux would find it odd and I could come home and be alone in what would be the first time in weeks, but he hadn't even batted an eyelid, dismissing the two of us with a wave as he climbed into a taxi.

"So," Iris began, shrugging off her Docs, placing them by the front door. She was making no effort in going to her bedroom. "What'd you wanna do?"

I shrugged, grabbing myself a can of Foster's from the fridge. Iris hovered awkwardly by the counter, almost as if she didn't even live here. Glancing at her from over my shoulder, I held my drink up in offering to her.

"Oh," she started, shaking her head with disgust written across her face. "No thankyou. Although I'm pretty sure there's a bottle of Smirnoff left- I'll have that." Sliding it across the counter towards her, I nodded as she thanked me, then lounging across the sofa, body stretching out.

Iris walked over, placing her bottle on the floor before knocking my legs off of the sofa. I glared slightly at her, the girl shooting me an innocent smile before taking over the spot, legs crossed and straining against the material of her jeans. Somewhere in the evening, she'd grown tired of her loose hair, tying it back into a braid that hung low on her back.

"Football's on," I mumbled to her, nodding at the men running across the pitch on the TV in front of us.

The brunette besides me snickered, "I can see that."

"I was just- uh- like, you know, telling you," I stuttered out, a sudden awkwardness settling in me. Iris mustn't have felt it, the girl only giggling, fucking giggling at me excuse of a sentence. "Ah- well I only meant that you don't have to sit out here."

Iris nodded, bright red lips wrapping around her drink once she'd picked it up. My eyes focused on the colour, it staining the glass after she'd taken a sip. I hadn't initially meant to stare, but when her gaze focused on me with an amused smirk on her lips, I felt my cheeks flame, attention turning back to the TV.

"I know Harry," she told me. I tugged the hood of my hoodie above my head, flinging an arm across my face also in attempt to shield my red face, the one probably very similar to the red sporting my best friend's sister's lips. "But in case you're unaware; I tagged along to come home with you, not alone. Therefore, I'd rather not spend the rest of the night in my room alone."

"But you don't like football," I commented. The girl complained every time a match was playing on the TV, only interested when particular players were visible. "You've not once wanted to sit and watch a footy game with us."

She popped a shoulder, shrugging with it quickly. Her attention was on me, and even with me not looking right back at her, I could feel her eyes on me.

"We're friends, right?" Iris then asked me softly, a hint of uncertainty laced within her voice. She tends to be confident, that being the whole reason she'd intimidated me in the first place. She was like her brother in a way, perfectly capable of talking to any and everyone with no complications or complaints about it.

"I mean I suppose," I shrugged. "I don't know how Lux would feel-"

"Friends Harry," she confirmed, shaking her head with a small laugh. "Why would he feel anything other than okay about that?" Iris asked me, "It's not like we've come back here and I've begged you to have bloody sex with me."

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