Re: [No. 3 to No. 24: Iris & Sam]
Iris always saw their interactions as more than just disagreements. She saw them as instances where she kept hurting her sister, and every time that happened, it carved another ditch into her chest, leaving her aching and breathless. Even now she could feel it starting to happen, like something too-large tipping over, just past its balance point, and everyone in the area unable to stop it - run or get crushed.
The flinch was automatic, there because she was startled, hadn't expected it. Would have been there no matter whose hands were on her face. At least with it being Sam, it stopped at being only a flinch, there and then gone. And when Sam lifted her hands away in surrender, Iris reached out, touched frigid fingertips to the bone at Sam's wrist. A fleeting reassurance and then gone again with a whispered sorry. But she figured she was clean enough now too, hands damp if icy, face bare and (once she shrugged out of her coat and lifted the hem of her (thankfully clean) shirt to wipe at it, dry.
The coat and scarf had borne the brunt of the blood, some on her pants as well. There wasn't anything she could do about the boots - they'd need to be thrown away once she was done walking around - but the rest of it she could change. She didn't go into the bathroom, but she did take a few steps to half-hide around the edge of a stacked pair of dryers. It wasn't necessarily enough to hide her from Sam, but there was a little bit of shadow, and it blocked anyone from outside seeing her.
Boots off, then a subtle little shift to help get the pants pushed down. She didn't look up as she changed, focused on moving quickly to switch everything. There weren't many marks on her, but seeing her not clothed made it obvious how slim she was. It wasn't the sickly thinness she'd once had, but there wasn't much curve to her. A contrast to Sam.
She waited until she was pulling on the basketball shorts (frowning at how they were barely staying up at all) before replying. As she did, she worried at the string from the hoodie, pulling it out and tying it around her waist as a makeshift belt. "I know. I was... convinced that it was better for me to stay. I was certain if I stayed, he'd keep his word about the family. The promise he'd made about Louis. I thought it would carry over to..." She trailed off, turning away to pull the vastly oversized hoodie over her head, replying once her head was free of the heavy material. It hung on her, to mid-thigh and beyond, room enough for at least two of her. "Trusting. Naive. Stupid." She looked up then, caught the slightly dazed look on Sam's face (it was easier to focus on Sam than herself), and did her best to break the mood. "Okay. I'm ready." Her own things tossed in the same washer as Sam's, one hand tucked in the hoodie's pocket, the other held close to her chest.