When he hand reached for the small of her back she instinctively leaned into him. It was such a bizarre match in some ways. She was in service to the Queen and highly affected by turns of fashion and so forth. Zephyrus was low maintenance and sweet. Sure, they had their problems, like the entire Podarge incident... but they worked through them all and managed to stay side by side.
Perhaps it wasn't so unusual a match after all. She was the rainbow, he was the west wind. They were both aspects of weather. They had produced a beautiful, wonderful son. Which had Iris remembering that she needed to see her son sometime soon and catch up. Pothos was such a dear.
Then she laughed at Zephyrus having said, “squish, cube, and call it art.” There was just something amusing about it. Sometimes her husband was such a cornball, but that was partially what endeared him to her. Hera hadn't been one to approve, but Iris loved her husband completely. He was a good man, he treated her well, he treated their son well and even though he made mistakes -he owned up to them.
They were perfect.
“I think,” she said, still chuckling, “that someone went to Home Depot, raided the scrap piles, added some gorilla glue and called it art.”