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If Eddie had known how long it was going to take Iris to get dressed, he wouldn’t have even suggested going out to breakfast, and instead, snuck out while she was sleeping and brought them home something to eat.
As it stands, his stomach just won’t stop grumbling. “I wasn’t aware that Jitters had a dress code.”
He can practically hear his fiancee’s eye-roll at that.
“I don’t have any clean shirts,” Iris calls from across the room, muffled by the wardrobe as she rifles through her outfits.
“Iris,” he says with a chuckle, crawling down to the end of the bed. Their bed. It’s still weird to think of it that way. They’re living together now – have been, for about a week, and it still seems so surreal. There were times that Eddie had thought that they’d never get here. But… here they are. “It’ll take me like five minutes to pick something up.”
It seems that Iris has had no luck in the wardrobe, because her face appears, ducking around the pine door to shoot him a look that still makes all of his hairs stand on end and causes a shot of fear to shoot up his spine – something that she’d inherited from Joe, no doubt. Why did he decide it’d be a good idea to fall in love with his partner’s daughter again?
The bed creaks, and Eddie pushes himself to his feet. “We’re going out. Got it.” All at once, she smiles again, and his heart flutters. He chuckles lightly, shaking his head. “One of these days I’ll learn how to successfully get my way against yours.”
“Many have tried, many have failed,” Iris quips, coming over to give him a soft peck on the cheek. “I’ve got you right where I want you, Officer Thawne.”
A noise escapes the back of his throat, and Eddie’s not even sure it came from him – or that it’s human. “Iris…” he warns, because if they go down the path that those particular words usually cause them to follow, he has a feeling that they won’t be emerging for hours. They’ll have both wasted away by then.
Iris huffs, kisses him once more on the lips, and then crosses the room to begin rifling through the obnoxiously large set of oak drawers, and once again, Eddie watches in amazement as shirt after shirt is thrown onto the bed beside him, all apparently not good enough for a simple trip to Jitters.
It seems like a mundane thing to be fixated on, but Iris’ stuff is in his house. Which is no longer just his house – it’s their house. He wonders when that’ll stop feeling like the world’s biggest miracle.
His eyebrows furrow in confusion when he spots a familiar white button down shirt, pulling it into his hand and holding it up so that Iris can see. “Is that my shirt?”
To Iris’ credit, she doesn’t even look remotely sheepish. “You said it looked better on me. So I kept it,” she points out, poking her tongue out at him somewhat childishly – which is absolutely not adorable and isn’t completely melting his heart, and- oh, who is he kidding? He’s completely smitten.
“You know; I know a certain speedster who could just bring us sandwiches and coffee.”
“We’re not turning Barry into our personal delivery service, Eddie,” Iris chides, more material joining the already expansive pile on the bed. All of which look perfectly wearable, in Eddie’s opinion.
“What about this?” He asks, picking out a shirt the colour of deep scarlet and holding it up for her to see.
“I’m not wearing that. We’re going for sandwiches in a coffee shop; we’re not going to a cocktail party.”
“Too formal?”
“Too formal.”
After what seems like hours, but is really only a few minutes, he sighs, flopping back onto the mattress. “I’m hungry.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
Eddie’s about to complain when he opens his eyes to see what Iris has finally picked out, and his breath leaves him all at once. When did she even change into a dress?
Not just any dress – it’s the dress. The mustard yellow one that never fails to have people falling at her feet.
He’s always loved her in that dress, and Iris knows it.
“Close your mouth, Prettyboy,” she quips, helping him to his feet and tiptoeing to kiss him on the lips, and Eddie’s hand tightens around her slim waist.
“You look amazing.”
“Worth the wait?”
His lips spread into a grin. “You’ve always been worth the wait.”
At that, Iris rolls her eyes, but he can’t help but catch the slight warm flush that spreads over her cheeks. “Come on, Casanova. Food and coffee first. You can woo me later.”