The plan for the evening was pretty simple. He would tell her she could sleep on the couch and wouldn't have to worry about Barry's roommate because he's been sleeping at his girlfriend's. Then they would order a pizza and watch a movie. They could talk through the movie if they felt like it, but at least they would have some background noise. Something other than just the sound of their voices.
Iris, however, didn't want background noise. She didn't want distraction. She wasn't going to turn down pizza, but it's been a couple hours and they still haven't ordered any, so she munched on the brownies he made instead. Plans change, and the plan seemed to have gone from a solid scheduled event to a casual conversation that bled into all hours of the night.
Midnight comes, and still they're stretched out on the couch, her legs across his lap and his hands folded on top of them. They talk about everything, catching up on each other's missing three months. They don't exactly have much to tell that hasn't already been addressed in past conversations, but they find new things. Somehow they dig deeper and come up with untold stories.
Barry squirms at hearing her talk about a boy she has a crush on, doing his best to act normal. She says the guy hardly ever looks her way, which is strange to Barry because he didn't realize it was possible to skip over Iris as if she is anything less than gold. She tells him the guy's ignorance is mostly because they rarely see each other. He comes into her work once a week at always the same time of day, and orders the same thing and sits in the same spot. At first it sounds to Barry like she only thinks he's attractive, but then she goes on to talk about having overheard some of his phone conversations. Sometimes he brings in a friend. She hears them talk, and she talks to them. Short conversations about nothing really, but he makes jokes and she laughs, and he goes back to talking about his family, and his work at the hospital.
Damn it, the man actually has qualities that women find admirable.
Barry scratches his nose and runs his fingers through his hair. He looks at her. She's got her head resting on the arm of the couch and her hands relaxed on top of her stomach. It's quiet now, and Barry's still trying to pick and choose his next sentence with caution.
"Well he's an idiot." Those probably weren't the right words.
"No he's not, Barr." She rolls her eyes.
"No- hear me out." he says. She lifts her head to look at him, one eyebrow raised. "He's an idiot for not noticing you." The words still sound funny in his mouth. "You're too great. It's like failing to realize that the sun is in the sky." Nailed it.
Barry can't decipher Iris' expression. Her lips are barely forming a smile, but it looks almost forced. Like she's got something in her mouth.
"That's so…" she starts, looking away from him and exaggerating the 'o'. She makes a circle with her head and then bounces it back in his direction. "Cheesy." she finishes. Iris grins, and starts to make sounds like she's half laughing and half hyperventilating. Barry smiles, despite having had his compliment desregarded.
"Hey! That was sweet. That was not cheesy, and you are ungrateful." Barry shrugs. Now, Iris is giggling like she's four years old again.
"Ungrateful?" she scoffs.
"Yeah. Ungrateful for your amazing best friend who gives you sweet syrupy compliments—that—that you just shoot down." He measures his words and ends with a huff. Iris goes quiet then, a lingering smile on her face, and looks at him for a few minutes. Barry stares at the black screen of the TV and zones out. He wishes she would forget about the guys she hardly knows. He doesn't want her thinking about the people she only speaks to when they enter restaurant. He wishes her thoughts weren't clouded by handsome strangers that she seems to deem prince charming. Quit it with the clichés, where's the story where the princess falls for the jester?
Her lips press against his cheek and he's shocked out of disgruntlement.
"Thank you." She says. Then she lays back down and rests her head on the arm of the couch again. He listens to her breathe for a moment or so. She stares at the ceiling.
He debates whether he should tell her everything. Right now. Maybe he should trade in comfort for the sweet relief of letting go. She's not tied up in anything serious. She only has a crush. Maybe she feels the same way. Maybe he would finally know what it feels like to taste her lips on his, live out the dream he's kept hidden his whole life.
"You know, Barry." Iris breaks the silence, closing her eyes. "If I could freeze any moment in time, any moment at all and stay in that moment for the rest of my life I think I would choose this one." Barry's heart flutters in his chest. She would freeze this moment? She would choose to keep this moment, just the two of them, together, talking for the rest of their lives? That has to mean something. It has to matter that she would choose to freeze this moment forever. That she saw this moment as one that was perfect enough to keep going. Barry can't think of anything to say.
"And you said I was cheesy." Except that. He couldn't think of anything to say except that. Just stop talking.
Iris chuckles and punches his arm. "Shut up." She mutters. "What about you? What would you choose?"
It doesn't take him long to find his answer because he really doesn't care which moment, so long as she was in it with him, that's the moment he would choose. If he could find a way to freeze time and be with her, looking at her, talking to her, telling her about his day, and listening to her tell him about hers, he would do it in a heartbeat. Even if he had to listen to her talk about other guys and ramble about her how cute they were and make fun of him and tug on his hair, and kiss his cheek. He would choose any moment in time, any of them, where they were together, and forget any moment where they weren't.
"Any moment with you." He says under his breath. For a moment he thinks maybe he can say it. Maybe he can tell her what has been weighing on his heart since they were kids. The love he didn't understand before that is so perfectly clear now. He wants to tell her. He has to tell her. He takes a deep breath in. "Iris." He looks over at her. She's asleep. She fell asleep. Of course she fell asleep. He sighs and looks back at the black TV screen. He pictures the moment that didn't happen, just for a second, with mixed feelings of disappointment and relief. He'll tell her. Eventually he'll be able to tell her. Just not right now.
Carefully, he lifts her legs from his lap and places them on the couch where he was sitting. He grabs the blanket that he prepared from the edge of the couch and lays it on top of her. One more sigh slips out before he starts for his own bed.
"Thanks, Barr." He hears her mutter with tired lips. He looks back at her. She has half a smile on her face. Then he forces himself to look away and finally goes to bed.