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Iris was bored. He didn’t mean to sound ungrateful, no he was incredibly grateful for everything the valley had given him and the steady amount of leeway they were offering the longer he stayed. But with Lillium having jobs and him being stuck in the trailer more than ever, except when he was training with Dan, he was mind-numbingly bored. He needed something to do, some way to work his brain, and there were only so many prosthetic blueprints he could make till he could draw all of them in his sleep.
“Someone’s distracted~.”
Iris jolted up. “Heather! And Sunny–what’re you guys doing here?”
“This one wanted to come to bother you,” said the human, ruffling Sunny’s hair and ignoring his squawk. “And I’m here to just drop by for a hi. Working hard at those exercises?”
“Not missing a day,” promised Iris with a grin.
Heather was a sudden breath of fresh air. Lillium always went on about how busy Heather could be despite her slacker looks, and he’d begun to believe it after she hadn’t even caught sight of her for three weeks. In her stead, Sunny would often visit under the excuse of bothering him. He was fairly good at it, but Iris appreciated the company.
“Getting bored, huh?”
“Not a lot to do here,” he shrugged. “Bound to get bored at some point.”
“I can ask Dan to amp up the training,” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows.
“I would rather die,” moaned Iris, deflating. “Training is hard as it is, I don’t wanna break a bone, Heather.”
She chuckled softly. “Well, we’ll find something for you.”
At first, he hadn’t exactly understood what she’d meant by it, but then Lillium had come home with a CD box in hand.
“Here,” he said, tossing the case at him.
“Huh? What’s this, I hadn’t asked for anything.”
“It’s a movie because apparently you were bored out of your mind. It’s the second movie though,” grumbled Lillium, slowly shuffling to the showers.
“Is there anything I need to know from the first one?”
“Just that their parents hid their spy pasts from the kids and then go on a mission, get caught and the kids save ‘em.”
“That’s…pretty sloppy.”
He snorted. “You’re telling me. We can watch it after I shower.”
“Awesome!”
The Tower had hosted movie nights once upon a time. But as they grew older, fairytales and animation movies turned into curriculum films and documentaries. And then Iris had switched to self-studying in a moment of desperation. He’d never attended a movie night ever again.
Lillium returned and flopped onto the couch with a heavy sigh. “I’m exhausted. Ready to start?”
He nodded, shifting around to get comfortable as the lily switched it on. They watched in silence. Lillium was visibly not as into it considering his eyes would occasionally flick to his phone and he’d pick it up to type something out.
“Oh ew.”
“What?”
“I’ve had people say that to me before, like before they saw me as a lost cause.”
“Say what?”
Iris glanced at him. “That they could ‘change me’. They thought it was a rebel, bad boy kind of thing.”
His eyes must have gotten disoriented right after because it seemed to witness Lillium’s eyes grow fond. “And look how wrong they were.”
He felt heat rush to his face, quickly refocusing on the kids. (Too dangerous, sometimes Lillium was just way too dangerous.)
[“Why do they despise me so? I created them.”]
Iris slowly leaned forward, strangely captivated by the projected “insanity” of the scientist.
[“Do you think God stays in heaven because he too lives in fear of what he’s created, here on Earth?”]
“Do you think so too?”
Lillium looked up from his phone, confused. “Huh?”
“What he just said. That God stays up there because he’s scared of what we’ve become.”
The boy hummed, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie. “Why do you ask?”
“You first.”
“It’s hard to answer, especially when your faith in God diminishes with the life you live,” said the boy, looking away. “But sometimes I can’t help but accept the assumed truth of fate–that we as beings were meant to be infected with greed, and that greed is meant to be our end. But then there’s a rebellious part of me that wants to believe in the beauty of demiflora and the “inherent” kindness of humanity. I want to believe that we are meant to be kind and gracious existences. But the fear of few drives the attitude of many. It’s hypocritical of me because according to the “general law” I’m a criminal, but…I will shamelessly commit those sins again if it means protecting the people around me. The love that I see in this town and the love that may exist in the Tower…they aren’t different. Yet we are on differing sides and…who can honestly say that’s what God intended?” Lillium then shrugged carelessly. “But that’s just passing thoughts.”
It was something he did often, sharing thoughts sparsely, but of obvious meaning and then moving on as if it was simply idle talk. But when he spoke his eyes would become focused and faded, as if drawing power from some sort of unfathomable pain.
“You?”
Iris sighed, resting his cheek against his knee. “...for me, my mother was the God of the Tower. And I…I feel like the creation.”
“You think she fears you?”
“I think she expects me to cause my demise, and with it bring calamity to the people around me. Like Irid.”
He said nothing more, eyes glued to the scientist on the screen. Eventually, Lillium pressed play and the oppressive silence was replaced by the buzz of the movie. They were cute kids, getting along in their own clumsy way and learning how to trust each other, as siblings. Their candid conversation despite the barbed words had Iris aching from a strange sense of longing. At one point, close to the beginning, he’d wanted them to turn out like that–
“You liked it?”
He turned to Lillium, who was watching him with a poorly concealed expectant look. It was almost 11 pm, and Lillium would have to leave for a last-minute job in an hour. And despite all the stray thoughts that had floated into his head, he hadn’t thought anything exceedingly useless, nor had he felt like he’d wasted time. It was a surprisingly…nice feeling. To have sat for a movie with Lillium.
“I did,” he said with a wide smile. “Tell Heather thanks.”
Lillium paused before nodding. And then his eyes were softening all over again. It made Iris want to squirm in his place–an unexpected bestowal of a fond gesture. He didn’t know how to accept it but also didn’t know how to discuss it without making Lillium feel overly conscious of it. Heaven knows that he mostly wasn’t aware of it himself.
“Now off to bed with you. I won’t have you up till I leave and then falling asleep in your cornflakes in the morning”
He sighed. “Yes, Dad.”
The next talk of movies came when he was sitting with Sunny, the following Friday. The demiflora had come originally to antagonise him, but did not protest TO sharing his hot sauce concoction of the day, which Iris supposed was his true motive. They spotted Lillium’s bubblegum pink hair first and hopped to their feet with excitement.
“Lillium!” screeched Sunny, leaping at the man and forcing him to scramble to hold onto him tightly. “You’re late!”
“I’m perfectly on time and your breath stinks of hot sauce. Iris, have you been spoiling the brat again?”
He grinned. “I just shared a meal that was already made!”
The bubblegum boy half-sighed, half-scowled. “You both are terrible influences on each other. Go home Sunny, Heather is back.”
The boy groaned. “You’re just trying to get rid of me!”
“Either that or you come train with us.”
He hopped off, face screwed up as if the suggestion itself had offended him. “You guys suck.”
“I didn’t even do anything, I’m just sitting here,” protested Iris half-heartedly from his spot on the trailer step.
“Shoo, go on.”
“You suck!”
He turned to Iris and waved a little box. A CD case. “Heather passed on another.”
“Oh?”
“Let’s watch it after dinner.”
Iris felt his lips stretch into a stupidly big smile. “No job?”
“I’m a free man.”
He giggled quietly, feeling slightly giddy with anticipation. “After dinner then.”
Iris and Lillium had somehow, slowly yet surely, transitioned into a routine. After Lillium came back home, they’d sit for an hour and go over a checklist for the prosthetics where Iris would check their functionality and Lillium would mention anything he had difficulty with on the mission.
“What if I included wings?”
“And make me Hermes? No thank you, I’m not a mailman.”
“Then double bounding–”
“They’re fine. I don’t need to be Iron Man, I just need functional legs, Iris.”
“Ugh, spoilsport.”
Then they would spar with wooden swords. Lillium was almost equally skilled with any weapon, and he was also a living, breathing, thinking being which made him infinitely more difficult of a partner than some automatons. He always adjusted so fast, which was good in battle but always a pain in the butt for Iris.
He cursed under his breath as Lillium poked the tip of the sword into his sternum.
“You’re still thinking too slowly. You need to make these moves half-reflex.”
“It’s more difficult than I thought,” he mumbled, flexing his wrist.
“You need to trust your body a little more. You have too little confidence in it,” admonished Lillium though not unkindly. “Let’s stop here. Time to start on dinner.”
They headed inside, feeling the evening chill permeate their sweat-covered skin. Iris headed to shower first, leaving Lillium to ruminate over the dinner choices and get started. By the time he was back in the kitchen, the lily had already pulled out a bunch of ingredients.
“Already on it?”
“Falafel pita sandwich,” he announced. “Follow the first step, it’ll take a while. Don’t over-blend it. And don’t get distracted.”
Determined to get the lily to give him some sort of cooking-related compliment he rolled up his sleeves and got to work. There wasn’t a lot to do at first, chopping onions, ripping up parsley, breaking up some broccoli. He dumped the soaking chickpeas into the grinder and flipped the switch on. Soon enough he was slowly pushing in the broccoli and–
“Oh already here?”
“Gah?!”
Lillium snickered at his expression, leisurely drying his hair with a towel.
“You’re such a jerk,” scoffed Iris, dumping the rest in.
“Not my fault you’re easily startled,” teased the lily, sliding in next to him and taking over easily. “Go cut the bread and take out the sauces.”
“Sure, sure, whatever jerk.”
Dinner was always pleasant. No matter what had happened in the day or what was to happen in the night, dinner was the one time they’d sit together, focusing only on the food and conversation.
“Yoo ’ow wha’ I’m ’eally c’avin thezhe day’zh?”
“Swallow and then speak you heathen,” said Lillium wrinkling his nose.
He swallowed the food with visible effort. “Well?”
“Craving? Food you mean?”
“Mn,” said the boy as he took another massive bite of the sandwich.
“Dunno, not a mind reader.”
“The shakshuka you made when in my room,” he said, without missing a beat.
“That?”
“It was gorgeous.”
“Yeah, ’cause it was your first taste of real food.”
“You’re really terrible at taking compliments, huh?”
Lillium stuck his tongue out very maturely before turning his nose up. Crazy how a cool mercenary at first glance could turn into a childish Scrooge after months of knowing him.
They finished washing the dishes and cleaned up together before finally settling into their spaces on the couch. Iris pulled up the blanket and wiggled around to get comfortable while Lillium pushed in the CD. The lily turned around and immediately raised an eyebrow.
“Someone’s comfy.”
“Oh sue me.”
The elder sniggered before grabbing a corner of the blanket and settling under it, keeping a reasonable gap between them.
“What’s this one?”
“The Grand Budapest Hotel. Classic.”
“Huh…”
“No bells?”
“None.”
Sigh. “Uncultured as always.”
Slap. “Shut it, jerk.”
The pleasant, almost too pleasant, soundtrack drifted through the trailer. Almost instantly Iris fell into his typical trance of engagement, eyes wide and unblinking. Wes Anderson’s style of filmmaking was interesting, so simple that one couldn’t help but focus on the minute details, the colour grading of the film, the characters and their dialogues. Like the frame of a gorgeous portrait.
“This one’s made after the previous, clearly,” informed Lillium, ever the context provider. “But he has such a recognisable and iconic producing style that it’s almost trademarked to be his, and people who imitate it will only ever be imitations, not the result of a trend.”
The movie seemed fairly interesting, and Iris couldn’t help but feel internally pleased at the way it continuously held his attention. Until the auction of course.
“No way!” he cried, the beginnings of a smile already peeking through. “No way! She liked him that much?!”
“She said I love you, come on, women rarely say that directly and easily without meaning it.”
“But–!”
[“If I learn you’ve ever once laid a finger on my mother, living or dead, I swear to God, I’ll cut your throat! You hear me?”
“I thought I was supposed to be a fucking [redacted].”
“You are, but you’re bisexual.”]
Iris let out a choked gasp.
[“Let’s change the subject. I’m leaving.”]
“No, no, no, no freaking way!” howled the boy. “That’s their lines?!”
Lillium was unable to stop himself from chuckling at the display. “Apparently.”
“I can’t even! I’d never be able to watch this at the Tower, we’d be skinned alive,” he wheezed, clutching his chest.
The movie went on and Iris watched with glee as things took turn after turn. Such turbulent events with such peaceful and scenic shots and music. It worked his artistic mind to pleasurable heights and made his fingers itch for a pen. Aesthetic, pleasant, engaging to an appropriate extent, amusing and yet light enough to not feel deprived if left halfway.
“Such an amusing character,” he murmured, eyes trained on Monsieur Gustave. “Imagine if Walters was like that.”
“Walters? No way, too much of a stick up his ass.”
“Around us maybe, but he could be like that around people he trusts.”
Lillium shrugged. “Your optimism sounds as convincing as my pessimism sounds pleasant.”
Iris went to retort but immediately got caught in another scene. “He threw the cat!”
The lily watched him, amusement dancing in coral eyes. “Yes Iris, he threw the cat.”
“Well?”
Lillium was turned to him again, with a look as if he was gauging his reaction.
“Enjoyable,” he admitted, sinking into the couch. “Itched my brain in all the right ways.” He smiled. “Thank Heather for me.”
The demiflora hummed. “As you wish, Monsieur. Now. Bed.”
Iris fell asleep in less than two minutes.
Lillium flung something at him the next Friday. “There.”
Iris nervously fumbled with it before grasping it tightly between his fingers. “Cora…line?”
“New gift.”
“She’s really getting into this, huh?”
Lillium hummed, heading to the bathroom. “I guess she’s onto something.”
“Huh?”
But he had already disappeared inside.
He sat down on the couch, scanning the contents of the back of the case. It was an animated film, made in 2009…it was so old. One thing he’d started to appreciate was the fact that so many filmmakers, actors and producers…were all people like him. The thoughts of people hadn’t changed much, perhaps only altered in context. There was something infinitely relieving in seeing people so many years ago struggle with the same things that he found himself struggling with now. Times would change and often history would repeat itself, but people in their intrinsic natural state would always struggle and persevere – regardless of whether in big or small ways.
He left the case on the couch and returned to the stove, where the milk was boiling for tea.
“New tea?”
“Councilwoman Dan gave us some. I never pinned her to be the lady with an exorbitant collection of tea.”
“Let a woman have hobbies, Iris,” said Lillium, jabbing him lightly.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it!”
Dan had gifted him jasmine tea after another longer-than-usual training session. He hadn’t known what to expect when Lillium had told him to trust Dan. Trust had always been a finicky word in his dictionary. You could trust people and they could let you down, or they could reinforce your hope for companionship, or they could strangle you with it. Trust more often than not had taken him to states that he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemies. It had cut off alleys for connection and had taught him a bitter lesson about his extremely personally tailored inability to make people like him and stay.
But despite it all, somehow he trusted Lillium. Sometimes he wondered why. If he laid their fateful meeting out, one could think that he’d been blindly led into something eternally damning…but instead, he was exposed to life itself. While so many of his first experiences were shrouded with pain and distrust, he found kindness and care in small moments.
He’d found Lillium, who took the pains to never lie to him and gave him a reason to trust. Over and over again.
“A cup for me too?”
“It’s good for stress.”
“I’m not stressed though?”
“You always are. Perpetual stress. I see it in your forehead,” teased Iris, settling into his side of the couch.
Lillium harrumphed and turned to the screen.
“...this isn’t a scary movie, is it?”
“Don’t think so. Why?”
“No reason.”
As the movie began to play, Iris felt a weird feeling build up in his stomach. The soundtrack took a turn into creepy piano music, making him curl into himself slightly.
“Lillium, are you sure-”
“Shhh.”
He was 85% sure Lillium had already watched Coraline, so there was no need for him to be absorbed in it. Which meant he was being an obtuse ass for the fun of it. Jerk.
[“Oh Caroline. Caroline, Caroline, Caroline. You are in terrible danger.”]
Iris cringed, pulling the blanket higher. None of this seemed good. He understood the appeal of course. A mother who would make time for you, cook your favourites, spoil you and smile at you genuinely – that was the dream, wasn’t it? But in reality…
[“You probably think this world is a dream come true. But you’re wrong.”]
“This is so wrong,” he whispered into the blanket. “Eugh.”
“You said something?”
He shook his head.
“...alright then.”
Iris knew what the other world felt like. But it wasn’t reality. Things could only be so sweet in a concocted illusion where you’re never truly alive. It didn’t matter how many ways he tried to draw another version of them, their ending would always be the same. Sure it brought comfort, to create a version of a person who actually loved you, but at the end of the day, they were nothing but a fake. It would pale miserably at the mere idea of the actual person saying I love you. No matter how much he wished…or how hard he tried…
[“You think winning game is good thing? You’ll just go home and be bored and neglected, same as always. Stay here with us.”]
Being bored and feeling neglected was easy for a child. All you had to do was not look at them for a minute and a half and they’d feel it. You just needed to brush their words off three times and they’d see it. And sometimes you needed to look at them, holding the opposite emotion they wanted. Coraline’s parents were clearly trying, but…Coraline couldn’t see it herself. And if Coraline couldn’t see it, she couldn’t understand. And then, it was as good as them not trying.
[“We will listen to you and laugh with you. If you stay here, you can have whatever you want. Always!”]
Iris didn’t notice it himself, but slowly his body was inching towards the other side of the couch, fingers clenching and unclenching, body curling at the sides.
[“You don’t get it, do you?”]
His fingers closed around the hem of Lillium’s shirt.
[“I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t understand. You’re just a copy she made of the real Mr. B.”]
“Iri-”
[“Not even that…anymore.”]
“Ah!” Iris shrieked, hands gripping Lillium’s arm tightly and Coraline shrieked with him.
“Iris, it’s not that ba…”
But he barely heard it, because instead his eyes were stuck to the screen, rapidly filling with a baffling amount of horror as she tumbled to the ground. Coraline would find a way out, he knew it. It wouldn’t be a children’s story otherwise. The Other Mother shrieked and shouted, screaming [“Don’t leave me!”], and Iris was filled with a sudden pity and dismay at her state. But the tension wouldn’t leave his body. It didn’t feel over. And the breath finally swept out of him as Wyborne shattered the hand under the rock.
“Maybe we should get a cat,” he mumbled. As the title appeared on the screen once again, he realised the lack of their usual gap and sprung back. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine,” said Lillium, his voice carefully neutral. “Are you-”
“Tell Heather thanks for the movie. It was good.” He stood up, collecting the blanket as he rose. “I’m going to bed. Good night.”
“...good night, Iris.”
He paused at the doorway and looked over his shoulder. Lillium caught the movement and turned to him.
“You lied about it not being a scary movie,” he said petulantly before espacing. Maybe the childish show was a little bit worth it, considering the laughter that echoed in the trailer right after.
He tossed and turned for a while, his brain filled to the brim with various thoughts of lying on floors, drawing tools in hand, blueprints of a house, two people and a small kid, a garden and a patio, words he’d heard but never seen, and a tiny, earnest desire nestled underneath the lungs.
As if on clockwork a week later, Lillium placed a CD on their table.
“Another one?”
They hadn’t talked after Coraline. Iris was glad they didn’t have any conversation about his mood or his expressions because he’d honestly had enough of embarrassing himself in front of the lily.
“Heather seemed pretty pumped about this one,” said Lillium, already frowning. “It’s a crime thriller, but…well, I don’t know maybe I’m just overly conscious of Heather and her antics.”
Iris chuckled softly. As much as he talked about not trusting Heather or her actions, Lillium never rejected a movie. Perhaps he would have to thank Heather in person one of these days, it was keeping them occupied and engaged and giving them some quality time–well not like they needed quality time, did roommates need a thing like quality time, they were just normal roommates and–
“Iris?”
He jumped slightly, looking back. “Huh?”
“Dan got us some snacks from her last mission. We can eat it while we watch…you okay?”
“Peachy,” he said, turning back to his sketchbook. He stared at the graphite marks, unable to completely suppress a deep sigh. He’d been working on a friend for Penny (not a substitute as Sunny had crudely said). Usually, he left Penny at home while he went training with Dan, and often he’d find the girl on the couch, not doing much. Now he wasn’t one to dwell on the not-feelings of sentient robot arms, but Penny was his girl…and she deserved a pal.
“Are you still gonna sit there making your little robot arm’s girlfriend, or will you help me cook?”
He clicked his tongue loudly, levelling Lillium with a glare. “With how you treat Penny you should be glad I don’t fashion a knife for her to stab you with in the middle of the night.”
“Hey, I treat it perfectly fine!”
“You call her an ‘it’!”
But their arguments (if you could even call them those) about Penny always ended the same so they dropped it without much fanfare. Iris neatly folded up his drawings and placed them in his dedicated place on the bookshelf and headed into the kitchen to help.
“You want a snack for the movie?”
He hummed for a second before shaking his head. “I should be fine.”
Ten minutes into the movie, he regretted his decision immensely. The wonderful thing about food was that it served as a perfect object to occupy your hands and mouth when you were unsure of what to do with it.
“He smokes quite a bit,” he commented quietly.
“Men like him tend to,” agreed Lillium, sounding almost bored. “And by men like him, I mean men who pick up married women.”
They hissed as the lady slapped the main character and left the scene. “Well, that was-” Iris paused, mouth slightly open. “That was-?”
“As very convenient segue.”
“I thought he was going to give up.”
“Well…” Lillium trailed off awkwardly making Iris look over. The black eyes that settled on him seemed to make him startle ever so slightly. “He’s just that desperate…I suppose.”
“Hm.”
The sound of the wind chimes clanged noisily through the TV. Iris frowned. It could’ve been prettier, his favourite chimes were the ones that sounded so light and melodic. They’d give a tinkling sound, sounding the arrival of a pleasantly cool breeze through his sweaty hair. And Goose Lake Valley already set itself up as the perfect place to hang up a bunch of pretty chimes. If of course no children came in and shattered it, that would be pitiful. His attention shifted back to the movie, as the lady led the man back to her front door.
[“Not so tough after all, are ya?”
No, I’m weak.”]
His body relaxed against the couch, internally relieved at the end of the tense sequence of actions. The sound of the door clicking shut gave him some sort of peace of mind. Until the man stayed by his car, eyeing the balcony.
“What is…”
“Wait.”
“Huh?”
“He’s waiting.”
Iris stared at the screen, feeling a strange sense of apprehension build.
“Ideally she would go to the balcony and see him–”
Iris jumped in his seat as the chair shattered the glass door and they practically threw themselves at each other.
[“Mh! Oh!”
Gasp.
“Yes, oh yes!”]
A hot flush shot directly to his ears and flooded his chest.
“Shit,” hissed Lillium under his breath.
Oh lord, why would Heather hand this movie for them to watch? Mortification surged through his bones and muscles, turning him hyperaware of all his movements, down to even the strain of his neck and legs as he hunched closer to his knees. But despite all of it, he couldn’t stamp out the small urge of wanting to see Lillium’s reaction. So he slowly shifted his eye to the left, moving inch by inch until he caught the fringes of the lily in his sight. Then he ever so slightly turned his head, a minute distance, to catch the expression. Lillium had his arm over the couch, a common gesture, though whether to create more space between them or simply out of habit he never understood. His ankle was propped up on the opposite knee and a hand had been brought up to cover the lower half of his face. A bright red blush covered his face from the tips of his ears, over his cheeks, to the tip of his nose. His eyes met Iris’s for a second before darting away, eyebrows furrowed in obvious embarrassment.
Iris pushed his gaze back to the television, trying to push the heat out of his body. It was nothing to be too embarrassed about, it was just a movie. That he was watching with his closest friend-slash-roommate. Surely, it wasn’t that odd of an activity, right? It was just…a movie. Nothing more. He took in a small breath.
To keep his focus off the…more explicit scenes, he instead picked apart all the details of the plot itself. Two relatively young humans, one a lawyer who could be good at his job but instead chose to present himself as bad and the second, a wife stuck in an unhappy marriage – to the point where she wishes the guy was dead – but a rich one. She was objectively beautiful and he…had charisma he supposed. In some odd way.
There wasn’t anything wrong with the husband, his supposed flaws were purely sexual need-based if anything. Though the purposeful move of the nuptial agreement that locked her in the marriage if she wanted any of the money was…good repellant for a “gold digger”…? Wealthy humans were odd.
Working up the determination in him he turned to Lillium forcefully, who eyed him nervously.
“I don’t get the logic in this one.”
“Huh?”
“Like, logically, none of this makes sense. Any of their actions. The husband doesn’t sound smart, the main character is trying to sound suave but just sounds like he’s speaking with a drawl and I hate that, and the lady is just…I think it’s kinda sad being trapped in a marriage like that, I feel like she’d have so much more fun if she had…a friend circle. A hobby. Something.”
The lily stared at him for a second before laughing out loud. “Are you really trying to find some sort of logic for a raunchy crime thriller from over sixty years ago?”
“I mean-! Come on, it makes no sense!”
“It’s not supposed to,” he laughed. “They’re supposed to be two stupid and corrupt men in love with the same woman. That’s all it is, really.”
Iris sat back with a huff. “Whatever, I guess I’ll just watch it mindlessly.”
“Don’t hurt your brain too much there, Einstein.”
“...who?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake.”
[“Because we’re gonna kill him.”]
Was love supposed to make someone that insane–willing to defy all logic? Is that what everyone enjoyed portraying love as?
The man’s friend, trained in explosives and rock music, was strangely smart and a pragmatist. Iris could only imagine tens and twenties of different ways that it could go wrong, especially at the hands of humans who had nothing – no powers to erase their traces. Not to mention the legality, the wills, the family members, his position as a lawyer, his friends, everything pointed to disaster.
“Lillium,” he murmured.
“Mn.”
“Is love really that strong enough…to make people this crazy?” Moments of silence followed his question. It wasn’t charged or cold. When he looked to his side, Lillium was staring at him, contemplating. “Hm?”
“Some say it is, people definitely thought it was.” He paused. “Sometimes I feel inclined to agree and sometimes to disagree. I like a more rational portrayal and find it ideal but…well,” he looked away, “-sometimes you know it when you find a person that you’re willing to swing a blade for.” Another pause. “The demiflora psyche is limitless, after all.”
It wasn’t a satisfying answer if he had to be honest. He wanted to know why, and how people could risk their entire lives as if they were nothing, and how they managed to fill themselves with reckless abandon. Could the bond that the main characters had truly be called love? Wasn’t it more leaning to lust? Then what validated that, were they still given the moral leeway to kill someone…because of that?
“You’re thinking too much. It’s just a movie.”
He made a noise, not knowing exactly what it indicated, but somehow enough to get Lillium to face him properly.
“Seriously, it’s just a movie.”
“But-”
“You’re gonna have a lot of shit written by people and a lot of shit said by people and they’ll all tell you the meaning of the word, okay?” Suddenly, Lillium’s gaze seemed paralysing, unyielding, and almost searing. “But at the end of the day Iris, the only person that can tell you what’s crazy or not crazy enough to do for love is you. Is killing someone ‘for love’ the best thing for a person’s psyche? No. But some people live with it. Some others might need it. Some might abhor it. It’s not them what matters, it’s you.”
During this time, the scenes on the screens faded into his background, and Iris found himself back in that trance of being unable to look away from Lillium. His coral eyes were lit up by the colours of the movie and every time he connected their gazes, the iris never found the strength to look away first.
“I…yeah I get it.” The lily turned back to the screen, satisfied, leaving Iris to blink himself back to his body. It was nothing. Nothing. Stop thinking about it, Iris.
As they expected, the love that convinced them to commit the crime in the first place was crumbling, fast. By the end of it, Iris was left dumbstruck.
“That’s insane.”
Lillium, on the other hand, was impressed. Massively. “That lady really pulled a fast one on every guy there.”
“Insane.”
“They always do say that women are underestimated and hence the most skilled at crime.”
“Insa–”
“Yes Iris, we get it, it was ‘insane’.”
He stared at the pink head with an open mouth. “Did you-?”
“Expect that? Not at all, but it was pretty impressive, huh?”
“I need a moment.”
Lillium laughed, eyes crinkling slightly at the edges. “You can take that moment in bed, Iris. Good night.”
Iris blinked at him before sighing and standing up. “Good night, Lillium.”
That night, Iris lay there for a while in bed, staring at the roof of the trailer and thinking about the movie. Thinking about the movie led him to think about the start of it, which led him down a very dangerous path of thinking about Lillium. It hurt because he knew thoughts like this were counterproductive and would only cause trouble for them. But he also couldn’t deny that he slowly fell asleep thinking of the lily and what it meant to be able to kill for him.
It was the fifth Friday of their routine and for the first time, it was Iris arriving after Lillium. The door swung open revealing a Lillium sporting a look of poorly concealed concern. He wasn’t too surprised about it either – he looked horrible.
“Iris.”
“Hey,” he said tiredly, dragging himself inside. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”
“…are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m fine.”
The truth was that he felt humiliated. It had been more than two months since Dan had demanded his training, and sure he was better than when he started, but his own lack of determination and grit was starting to annoy him. He knew how important this was. Even if everyone in the valley hadn’t welcomed him with open arms, he still had something to prove and something to protect.
The fact that his own body was subconsciously betraying his fear and his reluctance in small ways, made him angry. But there was no one to be angry at but himself. He could be angry at his mom, but then again, that was a can of worms he refused to open–which made him even more upset because how could he only think of two people to be upset at? And one of them was himself?
He stood in the cold shower water for long enough before the chill was getting to him, leaving his teeth chattering. But even then he couldn’t erase the frustration plaguing his chest. It felt a little bit like it was choking him.
A knock on the door. “Iris.”
“H-Yeah?”
“Dinner’s ready. Are you done?”
“Ye-yeah. I’ll be right there.”
With a sigh, he closed his eyes and turned off the water. When he went to the main room he found Lillium there, leaning over the table and fiddling with something in the pan.
“Lillium?
The lily’s neck snapped towards him. “You’re here. Come, eat while it’s hot.”
When he stepped closer, he managed to catch a peek at the dish and stopped.
“Iris?”
“Why…”
“Why? You said you were craving shakshuka, remember?”
He had. The first meal that he’d eaten that wasn’t from the Tower cafeteria. He sat down, grabbing his spoon and digging into the pan directly. The eggs had absorbed the flavours so well and were teeming with juice when he bit into them. The vegetables, despite him not liking them much as a kid, were spicy and somehow managed to make his mouth water as he chewed on them.
“It’s really good,” he said, trying his hardest not to sound too emotional over it. He dove back into it, focusing all his energy on immortalising the flavour on his tongue and conveniently missed the worried and sorrowful eyes that rested on him the entire time.
Lillium said he’d take over the dishes in compensation for the harsh training, leaving him to sit there and sip hot water while staring at the lily’s back.
“I never get why you like it so much,” he said over the clinking of plates in the sink.
“It’s-”
“The first taste of real food, I know.” He spared a glance over his shoulder. “But I don’t know, y’know?”
Iris stared into his cup, watching his rippling reflection for a while.
“I think I started adding hot sauce to things around 14. It was around the same time that sitting in classes was getting extremely painful for me – everyone used to scoot their tables away from me.”
He pushed his mug away and rested his cheek on the table.
“Living in the Tower was mostly great, most people loved it and there was not a lot to criticize. But I liked my powers, my gift, and I apparently had an imagination that couldn’t be contained in my room. My friend tried to persuade me otherwise, but I couldn’t bear to stop. It felt like breathing to me. And they never understood, but I did try to stop. I tried so hard, I locked away my pens and pencils, hid my canvases and blueprint papers and threw away anything that would make me break my pact. But at the same time, the world seemed to grow grey.”
Iris had never been a dramatic person. But when he’d fought his body to stop drawing, it had felt like a previously technicolour world had switched to greyscale. The joy had been sucked out of everything in that Tower and had been replaced by gallons of pain and sorrow. He first hated going outside because his brain would automatically think of sketching something, then he hated seeing people because his fingers would itch to create something to accommodate their needs. That led to hating talking because it gave him ideas, and then hating listening because it gave more ideas. Slowly, Iris found himself at a point where he hated simply existing. It didn’t take long for him to stop leaving his room. The more he stuck to his promise, the less he left his room. The less appetite he held.
What made it worse, was that it was the first time his mother had looked moderately pleased with anything he’d done.
“You remember Laurence, right?”
“The Daphne?”
“Mn. He spoke to me about it. He came to my room, and I couldn’t let him in. I was clinging to my door for dear life because I could barely support my own weight. He thought it was some sort of snubbing tactic and stomped off. He refused to look at me after that.”
It dragged on, and everyone was beginning to notice it. At first, they were happy with his sudden attitude change, relieved by his sudden sensibility, and comforted by his seeing the light.
But one person grew worried by the second.
Rosalie visited his room every single day, three times each day, trying to get him to eat something. As days went by her carefully concealed worry became more and more obvious. The problem was any food he ate had started to taste bland and unappealing. He could barely stomach anything.
“She slipped some hot sauce into a meal once and hand-fed it to me.” He smiled slightly. “It burned. Felt like it was searing my tongue and throat and eventually my stomach. Made me cry. But you know Lillium?” He closed his eyes, pushing himself away from the memories of that time. “That was the most alive I’d felt in weeks. I don’t want to go back to that, even if it means taking hot sauce in bottle after bottle. I don’t ever want to eat food and have it taste that again.”
There was a clink of a mug being set down in front of him. He opened his eyes to see hot cocoa and mini marshmallows floating in it.
“Yeah,” the lily whispered, gripping his own mug. “I know.”
Iris smiled wider, getting out of the seat and taking his mug. “Thanks. New movie?”
“Yeah, she seemed really excited about this one.”
“Wonderful.”
[“If nothing matters then all the pain and guilt you feel for making nothing of your life…it goes away.”]
Despite his previous assumptions that the exhaustion would push him to fall asleep five minutes into the film, Iris found himself wide awake. Well for starters, he didn’t know what the hell was happening in the damn movie.
“It’s the worst version of her universe? Why would he say that?”
“Hit rock bottom and the only way to go is up, right?”
“But if you don’t know you’re at rock bottom at least it helps with the dread and embarrassment,” grumbled Iris.
“It kinda feels like you’re focusing on the wrong things,” teased Lillium.
“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be focusing on.”
Sure Evelyn was…hard to compromise with. He was aware of filial piety and how important it was. But he knew that children could stand to please their parents for so long until they blew up. What was the right choice between your own happiness and the harmony of a family? Some would prefer the former, because if one wasn’t satisfied with their own life they’d be full of nothing but regrets. But being cut off from your family was a painful affair and for some, simply not worth it.
What about him? Then again, was it even a choice for him? Evelyn wasn’t doing anything vile, she could be considered misguided. But his mother…could misguided even begin to cover her actions? Maybe it could have excused her in a different country or a young age, but even now she pursued an idealistic state that could not exist without dirtying her hands.
Suddenly the “The End” frame rolled onto the screen, making him sit up. “What?” He turned to Lillium who was frowning. “There’s no way that’s the end.”
“It can’t be, they didn’t even conclude it properly,” agreed the lily.
“Exactly, then why–oh.”
It was another…universe? No…it was every universe.
He settled back into the couch, trying again to commit himself to the characters. As the movie went on, as the characters moved forward, things seemed to slowly slot in place. He couldn’t stop himself from being sucked into their relationship, and it was painful. They as viewers could see everything, Joy’s pain but Evelyn’s as well. But nothing could be solved until they spoke to each other. And he didn’t know whether they’d get there.
[“So though you have broken my heart yet again-”]
“…Iris?”
He stared at the screen, blinking the tears from his eyes.
“Iris. Iri-”
“I’m fine,” he tried to say before his voice cracked. A tissue box appeared in front of him, and he grabbed at them clumsily. “I’m fine.”
“Iris…”
[“-just know that in another life-”]
Tears rolled down his face faster. God. God. What was happening to him? Nothing was stopping the crying. If anything, he could even feel a sob building in his chest.
[“-I would’ve enjoyed doing just laundry and taxes with you.”]
“Hey, what’s going on?” whispered Lillium, placing a hand on his back. “You want me to pause it?”
He shook his head. “No, no let’s finish it. I just–I’m fine. Let’s finish it.”
The lily nodded, but clearly didn’t seem totally convinced by his words and kept his palm there, a steady warmth on his back. Iris couldn’t stop crying. The moment he felt that maybe he had finally gotten a hold of himself, the tears came back, burning in his sockets and spilling out like a tap.
[“Something that explains why you still went looking for me, through all of this noise. And why no matter what, I still want to be here with you. I will always, always want to be here with you.”]
The credits rolled, and the ending soundtrack played, but no one was focusing on that anymore. Iris was curled in on himself, sniffling into the tissues he had grabbed while Lillium hovered over him worriedly. He left for a second and then came back with a mug of tea, pushing it into his hands and extracting the dirty tissues.
“You okay?” he whispered when Iris had taken his first sip.
“I…” The words came spilling out. The sudden frustration with himself, the anxiety of wanting to give back and prove himself, the fear of actually taking a life, the anger at his circumstances and then guilt at feeling anger, and finally the fringes of fear, that his mother would find him and it would ruin this place. The feeling of wrongness that reverberated through every single moment of peace or happiness. The terror of hurting people like Sunny, Heather and Dan who’d done nothing but treat him well and offer him the best. The nightmares of seeing Lillium torn apart–between Goose Valley and him, between what’s right and what’s wrong, between morals and situation. Seeing Lillium make the wrong choice.
Iris had felt like nothing but a burden from the second step of this journey and nothing was erasing it. No matter how hard he worked, he was still falling behind, he was still tipping the scale and he was still ruining things.
These hoarse words left his mouth weakly, hoping to find to answer from the mouth of the lily. A hand sneaked forward and held his.
“You’ve been feeling this since then? Since the beginning?” Lillium’s voice was quiet and fragile. When he looked up with wet eyes, the coral eyes looking back at him were shining with regret.
“I have never regretted leaving,” rushed out the words. “I just-”
“You told me the same thing when we got taken in.”
“Huh?”
“You told me that you were beginning to think you were the problem. Shit, I should’ve cleared things out back then, I can’t believe…”
Iris continued to stare at him, more confused.
“Iris.” He squeezed his hand, imprinting his warmth onto the expanse of Iris’s scarred and imperfect palm. “I have never regretted my decision to bring you here. I never regretted giving you the option of escape. And I have never ever considered–even once in all the events that have happened until now–that I would’ve been better off if I hadn’t brought you out.”
“Really?”
“Really. The bottom line is that it would never sit right with me if I had left you with your mother.” His eyebrows furrowed in anger. “She was suffocating. She would’ve killed you eventually. Directly or indirectly. When I saw you on that stage…I’ve rarely been that scared before, Iris. The people watching, the look on your mother’s face…your screams. It was horrifying. And I would’ve equally been a monster if I had left you there.”
For a second Iris got distracted by Lillium’s thumb gently stroking his knuckles. The action was probably subconscious, considering the man himself was so deep in thought, but regardless the novelty struck him, going beyond an action that would result in embarrassment or a blush. Instead, it warmed the very core of his heart, like a hand reaching out to stop a violently rocking boat.
“You’ve never been a burden to me. Honestly.”
“But–”
“Nor will you ever be, in the future.”
“You can’t know that though.”
Lillium squeezed his hand again. “I’m willing to take that chance.”
“...okay.”
“Yeah?”
He gave him a small smile. “Yeah.”
“Let’s put on an old movie, I’m not sleepy yet.”
“Me either.”
Lillium pushed in an unlabelled disk and settled back into the couch. This time, Iris rested his tired face against his shoulder, blissfully experiencing the lily adjust himself to rest his cheek against Iris’s head. He let out a small sigh, and within eight minutes of the film, he was asleep.
The last thought he managed to hang onto before he drifted off took him back to the movie they’d watched. Everything, Everywhere, All at Once. The wisps of thought asked one thing: if it had been Lillium, would he have been able to look at every universe and choose this one? Choose him?
Would he take Iris in any version, any life, any universe?
And then it was gone.
The Sunday after that, Iris bumped into Heather while heading to his daily training.
“Iris! Looking good, got over that boredom already?”
He grinned, lightly returning the bump to his shoulders that she’d given him. “No thanks to you. I hope Lillium passed on my thanks for all the movies.”
She blinked before cocking her head to the side. “Movies?”
“The movies you’ve been giving us every Friday?”
“The movies–shit!” She gasped, eyes wide and sparkling. “You guys watched a movie every Friday?!”
He nodded slowly. “Yes?”
“Iris!” Her voice was slowly descending into a tirage of laughs. “I didn’t give you guys a single movie, aside from recommending Body Heat to Lillium like two years ago!”
“What?! Then why did he–”
“Iris?” They twist around immediately to see the lily standing two feet away, hefting a bag of groceries. “Why aren’t you with Dan yet? You’ll be late.”
“Yeah–I just…uh.”
Heather clapped his shoulder loudly before giving him an obnoxious wink. “Well then boy, I’ll leave you to it!” And she skipped off.
“Typical Heather,” said Lillium sighing. “Are you gonna get going?”
“Yeah. I just…Lillium.”
He tilted his head slightly. “Hm?”
“Heather told me she didn’t give us any movies.”
The lily froze instantly as if his limbs had locked in place.
“Lillium, did you bring all those movies? For me?”
“You were the one who said you were bored!” defended the boy hotly, before sighing. “Listen, you needed something to do, and…I know how lonely it can get in that trailer, okay? You’d been working hard, and practically only working…I wanted to give you something to look forward to. Even if it was something as small as a movie night.”
“I never had a movie night back at the Tower. Not…not like this.”
“Yeah?”
Iris was sure he was red. It was something so simple, so minute and so…normal. But Iris had never had normal, he’d never had simple and he’d never had Lillium. But god did he want him more than ever now. His heart was pounding furiously and he felt like the more he stood there in front of him the more he lost breath. How was he supposed to ever want to leave, to make life better for Lillium, to make life easier for him, if Lillium did things that made him want to stay forever?
“Iris, you’re–”
“I–I should get to Dan before she doubles my training,” he stuttered.
“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been saying, honestly both you and Heather are going to–”
In one reckless move, he surged forward, throwing his arms around the lily and squeezing him tight. Lillium made a noise funnily resembling a kettle but didn’t break out of it immediately, probably because of the groceries.
“Ir–”
“Thank you,” he whispered with as much emotion as he could.
“...of course.”
Once he felt he’d embarrassed them enough, he began to pull away. And just as he loosened his grip, he took the meagre courage in him and let it convince him to press his lips to the lily’s cheek.
“Wh–”
“Bye!” he yelled, bounding away as fast as he could.
“Iris!”
“See you at home, Lillium!”
He was grinning so hard he felt like his cheeks were about to rip, and his entire face was hot. And Lillium would be waiting at home, mostly furious not only for the kiss but also for the spectacle he’d created in public. But he couldn’t find it in him to care.
Lillium would be home waiting for him, and maybe with some movies. That was enough for him.