A schedule. — It was everything Iris was and could be; No human being, no real tears, no pain.

But fuck, what happened every time she saw you? She was programmed to love Josh, and only him.

But-, but... She liked you. — You made her smile genuinely, you helped her be social, you made her nervous, you made her better than Josh, you.

You were an independent woman. Someone she dreams of becoming one day; And her eyes light up when you explain things she clearly already has saved in her mind.

Now you were alone with Iris in the house, fuck, Josh let you take care of her because he trusted you. — Nearest market was over twenty miles away, so they clearly would take a while.

You were sitting in the vast sofa, your body comfortably between the cushions, until you heard footsteps coming your way.

It was Iris, — in one of those stupidly cute pajamas of hers, sitting next to you. "I-" She tried to start, but her gears were in overdrive.

"Your- Your nail polish matches your skin tone." Okay... Was that an attempt at flirting? — "Um, I mean, your skin tone is- Uh..." She fidgeted with her fingers nervously, pressing her lips together.