𝙁𝙍𝙊𝙎𝙏 ❆ 𝙏𝙀𝙀𝙉 𝙒𝙊𝙇𝙁 [𝟭]

𝙏𝙒𝙊

𝙁 𝙍 𝙊 𝙎 𝙏
❆

𝙏 𝙒 𝙊

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𝙄𝙍𝙄𝙎 𝙇𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙎𝙌𝙐𝙀

THE amount of makeup it took to cover her bruised skin was uncanny, plus she had to use a dark color on her eyes to cover her bruised eye. Iris stared at herself in her mirror, letting out a sigh, and fiddled with her special necklace her mother gave her she was little, "I miss you." Iris gave one final look, turned around, and grabbed her backpack, placing it on her shoulder. Straightening on her skirt fixed her top and plastered a smile onto her face. Her father greeted her with a smile and a kiss on the forehead. Iris prayed her father wouldn't notice her face. Iris and her father always ate breakfast together. No matter the situation, breakfast was to make sure the both of them spent time together despite their busy schedules. "I made pancakes," Clark told his daughter, who smiled happily, skipping over to grab her plate.

"Thank you," Iris replied, sitting at the table, smothering her pancakes in syrup. Her father sat across from her, letting out a laugh at Iris's focused face as she poured the syrup. Iris stuck her tongue at him. Iris took a big bite, smiling, as she chewed. She loved her father's cooking. Her father narrowed his eyes, leaning in closer, Iris began to chew slower. "You've changed your makeup, you look beautiful, but it makes you look older."  Her father smiled sadly. Iris smiled at her father's somewhat compliment. Iris knew he hated the fact she was getting older, but it was inevitable. Iris blew out a breath. Luckily, he didn't notice her face. Both of them conversed for a while before she heard a familiar horn blaring outside of their house. Iris chugged the rest of her orange juice down, hopping up and kissing her father's head. "That's Stiles, love you." Her father mumbled something back but she's couldn't quite hear it, shutting the door behind her. However, her face expressed rage.

Stiles's face dropped at her look, he let out a gulp, refusing to maintain eye contact with Iris. Iris crossed her arms, raised her brow, and sucked at her teeth. Iris stood outside her door, walking toward Stiles slowly. Stiles has picked up Iris from school the second he got his jeep and it's been a tradition ever since then. Iris got in, the tension-filled car, her nose turned up at Stiles. Stiles, then, shut off the engine, letting out a deep breath, turning to face her. Iris bit her lip, looking at him. "Iris, I apologize, I panicked. Scott told me you got hurt. I feel awful." Stiles sighed, "I just knew your father would've persecuted you." He finished, batting his eyelashes at her. Iris sighed, uncrossing her arms, and nodded. Stiles gave her a half-smile, "I'll get ice cream," Iris jumped up—a tiny smile danced on her lips. "Extra whip cream." She confirmed, he nodded, starting up the engine again. Iris grinned now. "Fine, apology accepted, Stilinski," Iris told him, both of their moods brightening intensely. Iris smiled to herself.

Stiles and Iris were walking up to Scott, as both of them stared at the back of his head, his back turned to them. "Watch the paint job." Iris heard Jackson snap, glaring at Scott. Iris snorted, he irks her, truly. "Jackass, we've missed your presence too." Iris's sarcasm dripped off her tongue. Jackson smirked at Iris before rolling his eyes. Iris and Jackson we're friends of some sort, Jackson was tolerable when he wasn't having the biggest dick contest with all the males within a three-mile radius. "Iris Levesque, how can I forget my first boob." He replied, Iris's eyes widen, subconsciously covering her chest area, scuffing at him. "Yo, Jackson, let's go." Some jock called out, Jackson's eyes snapped over to him, giving him a head nod before winking at Iris and walking over to the jock. Scott and Stiles both snapped their head in sync to look at her in confusion. Iris sighed, waving them off, "I'll explain later." The staring match between the three of them lasted a few more seconds before Stiles turned back to Scott. "Okay, let's see this thing."