Dead Dreams

Thirty-Five

I can barely stutter my way through tears, and sobbing. It's so embarrassing, but Iris doesn't seem to mind. He listens quietly to everything I have to say. I tell him about all the dreams I had, of the memories of my childhood. I tell him about how I felt invisible in my own home. How I never fit in there. How it didn't really feel like home, more or less just a place to stay. I tell him about why I became the way I did. How I became the stagnant and boring person that is me.

"I- I wish I has s-someone like you at ho-home. I wish there was som-someone who really listened to-to me. I wish I was-was like you too- be-because then i'd be able to make fr-friends. I want to be- be as pretty as you are t-too." I'm just rambling at this point, unsure what I'm really saying. Until Iris speaks up after what feels like forever of me spewing my feelings out.

"You are beautiful. And it isn't your fault that other people didn't give you a chance. People are so low effort these days, it's horrible. I wish I could have been there for you, but I can only be thankful I'm here for you now. Your family...should have been there for you. I don't know much about families but I know that they are supposed to be full of love and support. You deserve every bit of that, and more. Trust me Ruth, something like that is not difficult to provide. It is not your fault that you did not receive it either. You are the sweetest person I have ever met, and I would die before I had you think that you were not worthy of love. You are not invisible, and will always, always, be welcome in my home."

I didn't think I could get much worse, but somehow I do. For a few minutes, I am sobbing loudly again. Somehow, he knew exactly what I had wanted someone to tell me. It hit a soft spot I didn't even know about. I...think I...

"Can-Can I h-hug you?" I get out, somehow.

Iris doesn't hesitate at all. "Absolutely. Come here." He holds his arms out, and I crawl over to him, flopping into his lap and burying myself into his shoulder. He squeezes me gently, but his hold is firm. I feel safe, and incredibly warm.

My sobs die down, until I'm just sniffling. He rubs my back, and just lets me calm down. When I finally pull myself together again, I realize just how much of a mess I am. Embarrassment finally hits me, and my head feels hotter than the sun.

"Thank you for telling me all of that. I'm sure it was hard for you. I'm sorry if I pressed a little too much." He says, still rubbing my back. His head tilts towards me, his chin against my head. I don't mind it.

"I'm glad you did. I feel better now." I pull my head up from his shoulder, looking right at Iris. He smiles at me, and it makes me feel like my eyes aren't swollen and red, and I don't look like a sponge.

Then his hand comes up, and brushes just beneath my eyes. A deeper look fills his eyes. It sends my heart fluttering, despite how I didn't think that was possible.

"That's good." He pulls away, leaning back against the wall again and closing his eyes.

A sense of disappointment fills me as he does that. I don't understand. I thought he might...I thought...Does he not actually like kissing me? Did I do something wrong? I fiddle with my hands, not knowing what to do. I'm still sitting in his lap. Does he want me to move?

Iris opens his eyes again after what feels like an eternity of debating. He glances over me with a look of concern.

"What is it?" He asks, innocently.

Angrily, I shoot forward, stopping just before his face. He gives me a look of surprise.

"Did you not want to kiss me?" My flat out question surprises even me.

His look of surprise melts into one of...i'm not sure what that is but it melts me. Everything...everything gets hot at this look.

"I did, but I wasn't sure if you'd be okay with-"