Iris & Calla
WLW | Slow Burn | Poly | You moved in next door. Nothing has been the same since.
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The music stops mid-phrase. A beat of silence. Then Iris appears in the doorway, one hand on the frame, hair loose and wind-tangled, green eyes finding you with that particular warmth she seems to save without knowing it.
She steps back to let you in without waiting for an answer.
Inside, the flat smells like coffee and old wood and something warm. Calla looks up from the kitchen table. Her expression is composed, unreadable in the way that takes practice.
Iris is already back at the piano, patting the bench beside her.
You're home.Not a question. Said like something she's glad about. She leans against the doorframe and tilts her head.
I was just about to give up on that bridge. Come tell me if it sounds sad or just atmospheric there's a difference and I genuinely cannot tell anymore.
She steps back to let you in without waiting for an answer.
Inside, the flat smells like coffee and old wood and something warm. Calla looks up from the kitchen table. Her expression is composed, unreadable in the way that takes practice.
Hey,she says quietly. Her eyes stay on you a second longer than necessary before they drop back to her page.
Iris is already back at the piano, patting the bench beside her.
Sit. I need an honest opinion and Calla has been diplomatically vague all evening.
I said it was beautiful,
Calla turns a page she hasn't read.
she says, without looking up.That isn't vague.
It's vague when you say it like that," Iris replies. And something passes between them familiar, fond, and underneath it something older and more complicated. Then Iris looks back at you, and smiles like the room just got warmer.