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Oh no! is the first thing that goes through Iris’ mind when she steps out of her building that day: she practically knocks Runner-boy over, or maybe it’s herself that would have ended up on the ground in case the collision had actually happened.
None of it matters really, cause it’s Runner-boy, and nothing, not even ending up with her butt on the ground, would be more humiliating than the fact that he saw her naked two weeks ago, except for the fact that she saw him seeing her naked two weeks ago.
She could have handled it if she didn’t have this particular knowledge. Out of sight out of mind, right? But no, she looked right out of the window she was standing by, wearing only her plain black panties, to see Runner-boy, slowing down, looking at her, first in the face then right at her boobs and it probably seemed like she was doing it on purpose, which made the whole thing 10 times worse.
Her street was mainly desert throughout most of the day but Iris knew Runner-boy would pass running in front of her place daily, right around that time. She liked watching him sometimes, and the way his hair bounced with his steps, but that particular day she was just too distracted by the fact that she had to pick her clothes to notice anything, including apparently that her drapes were open.
It’s fine, Iris tries to convince herself, so what he has seen her boobs? She has good boobs, they are proportional and everything still stands up and she did had a boyfriend once that told her she had great nipples. She never had stopped to profoundly analyse her nipples before that but they had never bothered her either.
It is still weird though, to have a virtual stranger who had seen her naked standing right in front of her, apologising profusely for having almost knocked into her.
At least she wasn’t holding her usual cup of coffee… now that would have been a disaster.
When he looks at her and the fact that it is her (Iris prays he doesn’t think of her as Boobs-girl, that would be too weird), seem to register, he grows incredibly scarlet, even more so than he already was from the run, and seemingly choke on his words.
He bends over to take a deep breath and then rises again and tries one more time;
“Sorry. I’m sorry.”
So Runner-boy is tall, like good tall, like she would have to go on the tips of her toes and he would still have to bend over to kiss her. He’s also, unfortunately, very cute, though his cuteness doesn’t really explain why all the sudden Iris is thinking about kissing him.
He runs his hands on the nape of his neck and offers Iris an awkward smile. It makes his eye all shiny (great green eyes by the way, but that is so not the point).
“It’s ok”, Iris says and then she grows silence. She considers saying not as bad as when you saw me naked or something to that effect but if he had forgotten about that it would only make things worse.
(Would he have forgotten about that? Would she like for him to have forgotten about that?)
Runner-boy nods to himself like he too is trying to think of what to say and she can’t help the little smile that forms on her lips to the shyness he’s exuding. Iris would like to assume that her smile is the reason for the one he graces her with before saying;
“I get really distracted while I’m running, you know, thinking about stuff and I know, I really have to learn to pay attention to what’s in front of me.”
“Instead of what’s inside the windows you’re passing by?”
He freezes for a moment and then draws in a sharp intake of breath and closes his eyes;
“Oh, god, you did see that.”
It isn’t a question but he does seem mortify by the memory, blushing again, from his neck to the roots of his hair and he looks down at her boobs, fully dressed this time, only to quickly look away, above her head and then down at her face again;
“I’m really sorry about that. That was…”
“Like a car crash?”
“What?” he asks her, like he’s not sure he heard it right.
“Can’t look away.” Iris explains to his questioning face.
“Yeah — I mean, no — I just — I — I’m really sorry.”
Iris laughs at him stumbling at his words. Damn, he’s cute.
“I’m Iris”, she says, offering her hand to him.
“Barry,” he answers her and his fingers lingering on her skin send a shiver up her arm.
“I kinda named you Runner-boy, I’m afraid it’s too late to change that now”, Iris replies and she can’t explain why she does that only that she wants to keep talking to him.
“Oh, well, I’m not the biggest fan of Bartholomew but even I have to admit that it is better than Runner-boy.”
“Ok”, Iris concedes a little fake-ly reluctant; “Bartholomew it is then.”
He shakes his head at her in amusement. Somehow teasing him comes naturally to her, and Barry doesn’t seem to mind too much either.
She’s about to ask him if he drinks coffee, after a few seconds of this weird silence between them, when Barry beats her to it;
“I feel like I should pay you a coffee to make it up to you.”
And Iris enjoys the way it makes her stomach do a somersault as she suggests;
“You know, that’s two incidents so I think I deserve at least two coffees.”