Iris blinked. Was she feeling sympathy for this doll? “No, no, it’s alright… cmon, let’s get you cleaned up.” She reluctantly held out her hand to Oliver, still wondering if this was some sort of dream. “Do you… happen to know my sister? Maybe you belonged to her at one point?” She cleared her throat, taking a deep breath. “Jasmine Clarice Andreas.” Her voice faltered as she spoke her name.
Oliver happily stepped into Iris's hand, sitting down.
"I… I'm not sure," Oliver admitted. "Most… Most of my memory reels have been corroded. I, I don't remember much of anything. I-I'm sorry, am I supposed to know her? I'm sorry." Oliver did say sorry a lot. He just didn't want to get in trouble. He… He didn't want to be trapped again, to unwind and never be allowed to move again.
Oliver… he acted so much like him. Maybe that’s why Iris wanted to wrap her arms around this small doll, and protect him from the world. “It’s alright, don’t apologize,” she reassured him, standing up slowly. Iris made sure Oliver was tucked safely in her hand before starting her descent down the ladder, each rung creaking under her sneakers. “Do you think if I run you under water, you’ll get hurt?” She asked in a low, yet gentle tone to Oliver as she used her free hand to put the ladder up into the attic.
"I… Think so? My skin is just made of rags, see, and my metal insides don't mix well with water." Oliver hummed a little as he was carried, feeling safe as he was tucked away in someone's have again finally. He was a doll, after all. He knew how dolls were treated, at least, and he was totally fine with being treated that way too.
Iris nodded. “Right. Well, for the sake of your metal insides, I’ll get a washcloth. D-“ She was cut off as a male’s voice called out, “Iris? Did ya find the cookbook? Who ya talkin to?” Iris froze. Oh right. She totally forgot about that. Iris knew she shouldn’t keep her dad waiting, since he’d come looking for her soon. He was never the most patient. “Not yet, Dad! I’m just… cleaning up a bit!” She shouted back, exhaling slowly. Her eyebrows scrunched up with worry as she turned back to Oliver. “Oliver, soap won’t do anything harmful to you, right?” she asked quietly as they made their way down the hallway. Pictures of a family of four smiled at the two as they passed, each depicting a mother, a father, and two little girls.
Oliver was a little spooked when a male voice called out to Iris, but he was calm soon enough. He looked at the pictures as Iris carried him, not really paying attention to her conversation.
"Hm?" He asked, looking up when she spoke to him. He wrapped his arms lightly around her thumb, shaking his head a little.
"It shouldn't," he confirmed with a nervous smile. He want really sure.
(boop)
(I’m so sorry for the late response! ^^’)
Iris bit her lower lip in thought, using her free hand to pull open the bathroom door. “How about this? I’ll use a little soap as like… a patch test. If you get hurt, I’ll stop, and I’ll just use a wet washcloth to clean you. How’s that sound?” She set Oliver gently on the bathroom sink, shutting the door behind her. Adjacent to the exit, there was a closet door. Iris pulled it open, making a small ‘tsk’ sound with her mouth as she pulled out a small white washcloth with pink stripes and a few body wash soaps. She set the soaps and washcloth next to Oliver. The soaps came in a few different colors, such as pink, green, and purple, and had various different scents, as well.
(it's okie!)
"Alright! Sounds good to me!" Oliver seeing his legs a little over the edge of the counter, grinning. He looked over at the soaps when they were set down.
"Ooh~!" He sat, standing up and going over to them. "The green one's pretty!" He grinned up at Iris, rocking on his heels a little.
"Everything looks so cool here! If this your house?"
Iris couldn’t help but smile at the doll’s childlike wonder and curiosity. “No, this is my dad’s house. This used to be our- my bathroom, before I moved out. I see my father has left it almost untouched…” With a sigh, Iris turned the cold and hot water faucets until the water was a reasonable temperature. She set the other soaps back in the closet, turning back to Oliver. “Could you hold out your arm for me?” She asked quietly, soaking a corner of the washcloth and adding a small dollop of green soap onto it. “I believe this is scented… green apple? Man, I wish adult body washes had fun scents like that…” Iris said with a chuckle.
"Ooh…" Oliver looked up when Iris told him to hold out his arm, doing so readily. "Green apple?" He echoed. "I thought apples were red!" He grinned, giggling. "Who's ever heard of a green apple?" He hummed a little.
"Why did you move out?" He asked. "I thought people lived with their parents."
Iris chuckled again. He reminds me of Jasmine… “Well, there’s different kinds of apples. Like Granny Smith apples. I never liked them too much, they were a bit sour…” She let the bottom of the sink fill with warm water. “I was old enough to take care of myself. I didn’t need to rely on my dad to provide for me.” She took the corner of the washcloth, ever so carefully rubbing a little soap on Oliver’s arm. “And now I take care of him.”
Oliver giggled as Iris washed his arm. It tickled, and the soap didn't seem to be hurting him.
"Woah… I've never heard of a kid taking care of the dad either! Does he treat you like a mommy now, since you're he one helping him?" Oliver hummed a bit as he was washed.
"And could I see one of these… granny smith's? I've never heard of them before!"
“I’ll make sure to bring you one if I ever find one,” she answered, examining Oliver’s arm. Seems alright. She began scrubbing the rest of his arm. “Also… eh, not really. Whenever people get old and feeble, they have to have their kids take care of them. They still treat them like their kids…” Iris shrugged one shoulder, dousing the washcloth in the water and putting some more soap on it.
Oliver giggled again as Iris washed his arm, sitting down.
"It must be silly, someone bossing you around while you take care of them." He giggled again. His arm looked a lot cleaner now, even with such simple cleaning.
Iris took a good look at Oliver’s arm, nodding. “You get used to it after a while. Sometimes they tell you what they need, but other times, the children know best.” She shrugged one shoulder as she tapped Oliver’s other arm. “Could you hold this one out for me, please?” She set the cloth down for a moment to brush a stray strand of toffee brown hair out of her eyes.
"Oh, I've never heard of a kid knowing best!" Oliver laughed, the sound joyous. "I'm learning so many knew things, thank you~!" He held his other arm high in the air for Iris, grinning.
(Buuuuump?)