The One With Whisky Eyes

Cinnamon and Whiskey

Iris was accustomed to waking up alone—when living on the streets, it had been a blessing, and when living by herself it was expected. However, since meeting Barry she had many mornings that she had woken with one of her soulmates. The sensation of her head rising and falling with the elevation of a chest as her soulmate breathed deeply with sleep, it was somehow intimate and familiar after so short a time.

Barely awake, Iris was unable to fight the yawn that had her tipping her head back and away from her soulmate's chest—she ended up resting her head in the cradle of his arm instead, letting her cheek rest against his pec muscle.

Still breathing deeply, the arm around her shoulders drew in and brought her closer. Sighing in contentment as she gratefully accepted the embrace, Iris slipped her arm over his stomach to return the hold. She could feel him move before gentle breaths shuffled her hair and his nose buried in the crown of her hair.

Taking a deep breath when she felt another yawn coming forward, her brain woke abruptly—cutting off the yawn before it could start—when she realized she was not lying on Barry. His smell was familiar to her now, especially since she was sleeping in his bed, but the person that was letting her use them as a pillow smelled different. There was more of a spice to their scent, like cinnamon and something she couldn't put her finger on.

Opening her eyes, the room still as dark as it had been when she fell asleep, Iris carefully lifted her head so as not to bump his nose as she turned to look at the newest face. The light from the hall lit his face enough for her to see his eyes were open, but not enough to take in the minute changes that occurred in each of her soulmate's expressions.

Silence stretched between them as Iris met his gaze, feeling the halt of his breath when he realized she was aware of a new identity being in the light. Barry had confessed that the others she had met were surprised at how easily she could tell them apart, but there were only a few that she needed to distinguish between so far.

Letting a smile warm her expression, Iris dropped her chin to rest on his—or her?—collar bone as she continued to gaze up at the soft blue eyes watching her. "You smell like cinnamon," she declared gently.

A full, boisterous laugh broke from her soulmate as his head tipped back. She was shaken alongside his laugh as his body shook and rocked beneath her hold, causing her to smile wider. "Cinnamon?" a feminine lilt responded. "I hope you like cinnamon."

A woman. The thought warmed Iris, knowing that she was meeting more of the female personalities within her soulmate's body. "I love cinnamon," she assured. "Good morning," she added a moment later, shifting to prop herself up on one elbow.

"Good morning," the alter responded, shifting to mirror her position so they were lying on their sides, facing one another. "My name's Felicia, by the way. I'm so happy to finally meet you, Iris." Reaching forward, she carefully swept some of the light-brown hair from Iris's face, letting her see the entirety of her soulmate's pale face. "Interesting choice of soulmark, too."

Iris let out a breathy laugh as she ducked her head, suddenly bashful of her choice in words. "I felt it was better than the generic 'Good morning' that I could have said. It's unique, right?"

Felicia laughed again, nodding in agreement. "Barry told us what happened. How are you feeling?" With the hand she had used to sweep aside her hair, Felicia stroked the soft skin of Iris's cheek as she carefully examined her expression for any changes upon mentioning the incident from the day before. "Sleep well?"

"I did, thank you. And I'm alright. It's kind of a blur now, I guess from the adrenaline of everything."

Nodding in understanding, the newest alter sighed faintly. "We felt your fear—well, the others who've met you felt it strongest but because Barry was in the light, we all kind of felt it alongside him. I hate that you had to go through that."