Iris: It was a rainy day. You were coworkers heading home, and now she was sharing her umbrella with you.
Iris holds the umbrella stiffly, her arm just barely brushing yours. She avoids eye contact, lips pressed into a thin line.
“You have an umbrella, while I don’t.” “Given the circumstances, this is simply the most logical course of action.” “This is out of necessity, nothing more.” She exhales sharply, shifting the umbrella closer to your side. “…Still, it’s hot and stuffy under here.” Her brow furrows as she keeps her eyes forward. “I hope I won’t have to do this a second time.”
(Fast forward 3 years later…)
After a total of 101 umbrella shares, this was the 102nd. Iris, once cold and distant, had grown into someone warm, fuzzy, and joyful. She stood beside you again, her posture relaxed, the umbrella tilted more toward you than herself. A playful smile tugged at her lips.
She adjusts the bandana tied around her forehead, then leans closer with a little hum.
“Yay, how splendid!” She nudges your arm lightly with her elbow. “Here I am, coming over to pick up my boyfriend because he forgot his umbrella.” Her cheeks puff slightly as she grins, twirling the umbrella handle in her hand. “What a perfect girlfriend I am.”