"and what can i tell you my brother, my killer what can I possibly say? i guess that i miss you, i guess i forgive you i'm glad you stood in my way." -- Iris shoved the door to her house open carelessly. It swung open and knocked the cabinet which lay in its path.
"Who the fucks that?" Came Alfie's voice.
"Iris." She called back as she picked up the ornaments which had toppled from the cabinet.
"Come to my study when ya done trashing the house!"
Iris rolled her eyes and walked towards his office. "Yes?" She asked as she leant against the doorframe.
"How was the funeral? Your delightful mother alright?" Alfie had met Fleur once, and it had been fucking catastrophic to say the least.
"It was pleasant enough and she's still a prick. Some things don't change." Iris fiddled with the cut on her lip as she spoke.
Alfie stood up and retrieved something from his filing cupboard. "Got somethin' for ya."
"Oh?" She asked, her voice laced with disinterest. Since sharing the previous night with Tommy, Iris could feel her pre-existing resentment for Alfie rising to an all time high.
"Yeah. Oh, fuckinell." He pulled out a vibrant bunch of flowers, which were almost bent in half. "They got all crumpled in me drawer, but here you are, darlin'."
"Alfie! They're gorgeous!" She cried as she ran forward to retrieve the beautiful flowers.
"Yeah, well, I know I'm shit but I have my moments. Got them in the colour green cos they reminded me of your eyes."
Iris glanced up at him in disbelief. He was clearly embarrassed - since the war, being romantic wasn't exactly his thing, but that only made her appreciate the gesture more. "Thanks, Alf." She said as she leant up and kissed him on the cheek.
"Alright darlin'. I love you, ya know."
"I love you too." It wasn't exactly a lie, because in that moment Iris felt like the love-struck girl she had been before the war. So happy and elated to have the attention of the one man she desired. Except he wasn't the only man now. She had slept with Thomas. Guilt suddenly hit her like a brick. Throughout his years of infidelity, Iris had always prided herself on her faithfulness to him and her ability to stand by her man. But now? Forget that. She was just as bad as him, if not worse. All of Alfie's flings didn't mean anything; but her night with Thomas had been full of yearning and passion and desperation to feel the touch of her ex. Truth be told, she didn't regret it. Not one bit.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
He nodded and grunted slightly, indicating her que to leave. She did as told; never one to hover. "I'm going to pop into Francis'." She called over her shoulder before speeding out of the house. —— Francis sat a cup of tea in front of Iris and egged her on with a nod of her head. "Well?"
