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Warning: mature language and contentthird personword count: 6,70012:36 pm | you could never be enough for Central City's most beloved hero

The pink of its petals used to be so vibrant. Its stems used to be wide and strong, its green a beautiful contrast against the mahogany of your desk. But now, the petals were curled in brown, fading at the edges. Some had fallen onto the stack of unorganized files beside your laptop, reminding you that something once alive and bright was now dead and gone. It made you frown. It's why you hated flowers now.

You weren't always so unhappy. No, for a long while you were happy. You woke up everyday with a sense of optimism, something to look forward to. What was that? It was Barry Allen, of course.

Barry Allen. That tall, dashing brunette with killer green eyes, the speedster in the crimson suit. Barry Allen, Central City's most treasured hero: Flash. You remembered the first moment you had fallen in love with Barry. It was a stupid moment, but it was yours.

You always believed in what others hadn't believed in. It was your strength and your weakness, and it set you apart from the rest of the world.

A few days after the particle accelerator malfunctioned, you were the only person at S.T.A.R. Labs that still woke up everyday with some kind of hope in your heart. You were the only one keeping everyone on schedule, keeping the labs running. The energy radiating off of you everyday was the only reason some people continued to return.

There was a time when even your loving personality couldn't keep everyone. Soon, the staff made up of you, Dr. Harrison Wells, Dr. Caitlin Snow, and Cisco Ramon. You certainly made a team, brilliant minds and hearts at work. Only now, many of those brilliant hearts were without spirit, and you were determined to bring life back into S.T.A.R. Labs. You saw its potential; it just needed a push.

Barry Allen had been a part of S.T.A.R. Labs for nine months. Given, you only saw him asleep. But nevertheless you saw him, checking his vitals everyday and comforting his family that came to see him. There was one woman in particular that seemed to love Barry deeply; her name was Iris West, and she was so radiating and lovely. She had the most interesting personality; passionate and caring, determined and independent, stubborn and focused.

Every time you watched her speak to Barry in his sleep, you hoped that one day you would have a love like that. Someone that loved you through all the hard times, stood by your side even when you didn't know it, never forgot to tell you how much they loved you even if you couldn't hear them. You wanted to love like that, you dreamed of having a passion such as that.

Barry Allen's first few days after awakening from his coma were the most interesting days of your life. You became accustomed to his bubbling personality and smile, and you always had to calm down the wave of questions he threw at you. He wanted to know so much; if you answered one question, he had five more lined up to ask.

When Barry found his speed, you were the first person he told. He knocked on your apartment door, and you were in your pajamas when you opened it. Your hair was in a bun, you were without your everyday mascara, and your feet were encased warmly in socks. You wanted to protest to Barry for not announcing that he would come see you, but the look on his face had you worried.

"Barry? Barry, it's so late, what are you doing here?" You asked. Barry put one foot inside your apartment, and you stepped aside for him to enter. You shut the door behind him, rubbing your eyes as you turned to face him. Barry was jumping up and down a little, pacing rapidly. He looked you up and down, rubbing his hands together and licking his lips. You frowned in confusion. "Barry, seriously, what the hell?"

"I-I don't know, but something amazing and terrifying is happening to me," he whispered. You could barely hear him, but you stepped closer.

"What are you talking about, Barry? What?"

"I-I think something happened to me. The particle accelerator...I think something happened to me, and I gotta find out what it is."

"Barry, wait, slow down—"

"Oh, you did not just tell me to slow down," he laughed. You swallowed, looking at the excitement in his expression.

Back at S.T.A.R. Labs, strange instances were emerging around the city. You and Cisco were always hearing about strange cases of people who seemed to have powers, and the team had concluded it must've been the particle accelerator's effect on individuals. But the extent of the matter could never have fully been studied. No one had caught anyone with supposed superpowers, and nothing could be proven that anything of the sort even existed. But now, you were reconsidering the possibility.

"Barry, please sit down. Please, you're going to make me sick if you pace around like that anymore."

Barry swallowed his eagerness, settling down on the couch. You grabbed a notebook and pen, sighing as you sat beside him. The only light in the apartment was from the windows, the city lights illuminating your whole living room. You looked at him, and he was smiling at you.

"Okay, start from the beginning, Barry. What happened?"

"I-I was at CCPD. And I don't know, I just had this weird feeling. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, I was ten steps ahead of everyone before they even blinked. And then I went outside, and my hand was just vibrating or moving or I-I don't know, and then I was running. God, (y/n), I was running, and it was the best feeling in the entire world. Can you believe that? I was running, and I couldn't stop. I couldn't stop..." Barry breathed, shutting his eyes as he remembered the moment, feeling electricity in his veins and the heat beneath his feet.

"Barry, come to S.T.A.R. Labs first thing in the morning okay? We need to run some things, make sure you're doing alright. Whatever...ability you have must take a toll on your body. So, for now, don't run. Or don't run fast. Please, for me?" You pleaded, putting a hand on his arm. Barry's eyes flickered to the gesture, but he just smiled and nodded. This was the push that S.T.A.R. Labs was looking for; someone like Barry Allen, someone like him with his powers.

"Yeah, yeah, I won't. For you," he replied, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Go home, Barry. Get some rest. Please. Everything will be figured out tomorrow."

You and Barry got up to walk to the door, and he turned to you before he left. You were so close to him, and you never noticed how brown his green eyes could be. You were staring at them, getting lost in their color. You noticed bright lights in his eyes, and you let out a breath.

"Your eyes, Barry...there's lights in them," you observed, standing on your toes to see. Barry's breath was gentle against your nose; you didn't even realize how close you were.

"Yeah, that happens now," he chuckled. You settled back on your heels, smiling at him.

"Don't run, Barry. I don't want you to get hurt, we don't even know how this works yet," you repeated. Barry nodded his head, and you were surprised when he took your hand in his. He put it against his chest, where you could feel the rapidness of his beating heart. You thought it seemed much too fast, but you figured it was a side-effect of his ability. You stared in his eyes again, and Barry was already looking into yours.

"I'm not going to get hurt, (y/n). Quit worrying, you'll never sleep well," he began. "But just for you, I promise not to run tonight."

You laughed a little, biting your lip. What was that feeling that was crawling into your heart, feeling as if was lifting you off your feet? What was that moment, feeling so tense and alive? Was it just you feeling it, or was Barry feeling it to?

Before you knew it, Barry's lips were against yours and you were kissing him, too. Gently, so gently, like he thought he would hurt you. His hand came around to cup your cheek, and the hand you had on his chest curled around the fabric of his shirt to pull him close. Your brain felt like it was a mush of emotions, your heart skipping beats from going so fast. The oxygen was leaving your body fast, and it was like your heart couldn't even keep up.

When you pulled away, Barry planted another soft kiss on your lips. Short, but enough to make you want more. You stepped back, realizing what you had just done. You let go of him, running a hand through the silkiness of your hair. You swallowed, looking up at Barry nervously.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," you breathed.

"N-No, I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean—"

"No, I..."

Neither of you could think of what to say. You smiled sheepishly at Barry, your cheeks turning pink with embarrassment.

"Goodnight, Barry, I'll see you tomorrow."

"G-Goodnight, (y/n)."

After that moment, you couldn't stop thinking about Barry Allen. The gentleness of his kiss, how gingerly he held you, the way he looked down at you. You had gone to work the next day with even more optimism in your heart that ever before, and it vanished by the end of the day. Barry had never acknowledged you or the kiss you two had shared. You even heard Barry talking to Cisco, admitting his jealously of Iris West and Eddie Thawne. You should've known; from the way Iris held him when he was asleep, you should've known. You remember the tears you had as you rode the subway home, your heart in a million pieces at the base of your chest. He was gone before you even had him.

After that, you never came to work without that optimism. You never came with a smile on your face, you were never the encouraging voice in the back of everyone's heads. Your wardrobe even reflected your thoughts inside; white had never been a part of your outfit since.

There you were, a few months later, sitting at your desk as you watched the dying of flowers happen as sullen petals fell on your unfinished work. It had been your birthday a few days earlier, and the heartfelt gift from Dr. Wells was already trying to leave you.

The team noticed your sudden mood change. You were always the light of the Cortex. Every time someone said they couldn't do it, you made them believe otherwise. Whether it was a few wise words of your own or you pitching in some ideas, nothing was impossible for you. Not until Barry Allen had kissed you, not until Barry Allen had forgotten you. Now, it was impossible for you to feel like you mattered. If you didn't matter to even Central City's hero, how could you possible matter to anyone?

You looked up from your notebook, settled on the desk with chicken scratch adoring all its pages. You were running numbers and manipulating formulas. For what? For Barry, as always. Anything for Barry Allen. Do everything for Barry Allen. Keep Barry Allen alive for nine months, help Barry Allen adjust, be there for Barry Allen, be kissed by Barry Allen, be forgotten by Barry Allen.

The numbers were getting jumbled in your head. You were tapping into your head for physics, but something wasn't adding up. The formulas were ideas on how to help Barry gain more speed, get faster than he already was. You hated being there sometimes; you had to look at Barry everyday, see how good he looked in that suit and out of it, still stare at the brown you saw in his green eyes. Everyday was torture for you; why couldn't it be torture for him?

At the same time, Barry Allen was at Central City Police Department. He was bent over papers in his lab, writing down notes as he waited for his crime scene data to be properly analyzed. He was buried deep in work, but with his speed, the papers were done in a few seconds. He laid back at the organized stack of papers now in front of him, a conceited smile on his face.

He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on his desk. He had done a day's work in a few minutes, and now he was just staring out the window panes. The sunlight was bright, playing shadows on his desk. He heard someone entering his lab, and he turned to see Iris West. His smile got wider.

"Hey, Iris. What are you doing here?" He asked, scratching the back of his neck. She looked lovely in a pencil skirt and blouse.

"Hey, Barry. What, I can't visit my best friend?" She wondered, shrugging her shoulders. She met his desk, sitting herself on top. She played with her fingers oddly, and Barry tilted his head at her.

"What's wrong?" He pried, trying to look for her eyes. Iris looked up at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What's going on with (y/n)? I haven't seen her in so long, and I finally did today. And she looked so...so different," she breathed, her expression softening. Barry shrugged, his fingers gripping the desk tight. He knew exactly why you were acting strangely the past few months, and every time someone mentioned it, the guilt spread through him like blood pumping oxygen. He remembered the taste of your lips, the way your body felt underneath his fingertips, the way you melted in his grip. He remembered how good you felt, and how much he hated himself everyday for distancing from you.

"Uh, I don't know," is all Barry replied. Iris ran her hands through her hair, shaking her head.

"It's not right, Barry. When I met her, God, she was so happy. She always smiled at me, she was always there for me when I was crying. Every time I visited you, Barry, I got emotional, and she was there for me," Iris explained, biting her lip. Barry sighed in pain, his expression darkening. "God, Barry, she was so happy. I have to do something. I have to find out what's going on."

"No!" Barry cried out suddenly. Iris jumped a little, gripping the edge of the desk tight. She frowned, and Barry realized how loud he had yelled out. "No, no, don't do that..."

"Why not, Barry? I mean, I know me and her aren't close, but she was always there for me, I'm not just going to ignore this," she said sternly, narrowing her eyes at Barry. Barry shook his head, gripping his forehead in frustration. He didn't want Iris to get involved, he knew she might make things worse.

"No, please don't, it's complicated," he explained. Iris scoffed, standing up to face him and crossing her arms again. She didn't want to hear any of it. Somebody needed help, and she wanted to help.

"No, it's not. She's going through something, and it looks like no one is doing anything about it. I even asked Cisco and Caitlin about it, and they said nothing. They sounded just like you. I never thought I would hear something like this coming from you, ever," Iris said in a disappointed tone. Barry swallowed and stood up, catching her wrist before she could leave.

"No, no, Iris, please don't go to her," he begged. Iris pulled her arm away from him.

"Why? Why can't I?"

"Because...it's my fault. It's my fault she's being like that," Barry admitted, his breath tightening in his chest. Iris shook her head, confused. She didn't understand; of course she wouldn't understand. She didn't know that Barry had hurt you, hurt you in the worst way.

"What did you do Barry?" Iris asked gently, swallowing. She didn't like the tone of his voice, and Barry knew she wouldn't like his story. He knew he had bad timing when he told Iris he liked her, and he knew that she wouldn't like the story. He knew Iris would scold him, tell him off. Maybe he needed to hear it. No, he definitely needed to hear it.

"I..." Barry began. He sat down again and put his head into his hands. "I...one night I came to her for help. It was a medical thing, when I first woke up from my coma. And...and I kissed her, Iris. Jesus, I kissed her, and I haven't really spoken to her since. And I just...she thinks I'm in love with you."

The room was silent. The tension in the atmosphere could be felt from yards away, and Iris was silent. She didn't know what to say. Things were starting to add up for Iris; the reasons why you sometimes avoided her, why your smiles always seemed forced, the way you forced yourself into your work and barely looked up from it, the fact that you were suddenly not so bubbly. Iris was the reason you weren't bubbly, and Iris was the reason you felt so small and unappreciated. The fact that Barry was avoiding the situation wasn't helping either.

"Barry, how could you?" Iris breathed, rubbing her temples. Barry swallowed, looking at her finally. Her expression was forced into frustration and pity. How could Barry do this? Barry himself waited for Iris to lash out, and she was about to.

"Jesus Christ, Barry! How could you do that to her?" There it was. "How come you haven't spoken to her? Can you even imagine how she feels? She probably hates me, Barry! What have you done? You have got to fix this! Oh, God, Barry..."

Iris was pushing on his chest, shaking her head. She thought of how you might feel, the humiliation you must have every time you saw either of them. She thought of how sad you must have been, how disappointed your mornings were. She thought of how looking at Barry must have broken your heart everyday, and she pitied you. Not that you would ever want her to; you were an adult.

"I-I don't know what to do anymore...I think I'm too late," Barry admitted, tugging at his hair a bit. Iris shook her head, pointing her finger at Barry.

"No," she scolded him. "No, do not give me that bullshit, Barry. You have got to fix this. Whether you like her or not, you have got to talk to her. Do you like her?"

Barry thought about it, the vision of you in all your loveliness. The thought of your cheeks between his palms, the kiss he had so desperately wanted from you. "Yeah, I do like her. But I know that now, and I-I...I screwed it up, Iris. There's no going back."

"Barry, don't you understand what you've done? She wakes up everyday, probably head over heels for you, and you just ignore her. She watches you walk by everyday, and you just pretend she's not even there. You've probably broken her heart, but now you're the only person that can make this better. You have got to fix it."

9:32 pm

Barry walked into the Cortex, his mask still covering his face. He slipped the fabric so it hung around his neck, looking around for you. The Cortex was silent except for the sound of Cisco's video game on his laptop. Caitlin was examining brain scans of a metahuman on the screen, writing down notes as she scrolled through cat scans.

"Hey, guys," Barry announced himself. Caitlin mumbled a hello, and Cisco gave him a nod of his head. The monitors were quiet, the streets were bare, and the world felt at peace. Barry swallowed, his breath catching in his throat. It was the perfect time to fix what he had broken.

"Where's (y/n)?" Barry asked, looking around. He didn't see you, and your desk was dark. The petals were almost all gone from the daisies; they were scattered in a heap of brown and gray on your unorganized manila folders. Barry blinked at the sight; where were you when he needed you now?

"What do you mean? She's here," Cisco said, his tongue between his teeth. He was concentrated on his game, furiously clicking his left mouse button to fire at his enemies on the retina display. Barry shook his head, staring at your desk harder. He used his speed to quickly check the building. Cisco finally looked up at the sight, frowning in confusion. "What is it?"

Barry breathed out hard as he returned to the Cortex, shaking his head. "She's not here."

Caitlin turned away from the scans, and Cisco froze in his spot. The looks on Caitlin and Cisco's faces didn't help Barry's worry to calm in his stomach; it only flared up worse, and sweat began to form at his hairline.

"I swear she was here," Cisco breathed, waving his hand at Caitlin. Her pale complexion seemed to get paler. Where were you?

"She was here. Like not even half an hour ago. She never said bye. She always says goodbye," Caitlin added, swallowing the lump in her throat. As she felt the atmosphere in the room grow cold and worried, she waved her hands around. "No, guys, she's fine. We should just call her. I'm sure she's just at home, went home for an emergency."

Caitlin pulled out her cell phone, dialing your number. Barry watched as Caitlin tapped her heel, biting her lip as the call went to voicemail. She shook her head as she hung up the phone.

"Okay, Cisco, just check the GPS on her phone. I'm sure she just isn't answering. She's busy," Caitlin suggested, but the worry was already pooling in the base of her stomach. They all knew something was wrong; your purse was still hanging off the back of your chair. Where could you have gone in such a hurry?

Barry shook his head as Cisco closed his laptop, moving to sit in front of the main computer. "I don't like this, guys," he said softly, his jaw clenching. Just as he was going to mend the wounds between you, you were gone. And he was too afraid to say out loud that you were kidnapped, or worse.

Cisco pulled up the specs on your phone, putting in an algorithm that Felicity taught him to find your location fast. Nothing came up; a red text lit bright to explain your location couldn't be determined. Barry gripped the side of the desk hard; he could feel his knuckles turning a horrifying white.

"I'll call her. It rang, it has to be on," Barry said finally.

The sound of a phone ringing repeated in your ears. You were so dizzy, you could feel it. When you opened your eyes, you let out a whimper. Your head began pounding hard, and you coughed in pain. Something was stinging your forehead, and you tasted something thick and salty on your lips. You knew it was blood, but you blinked hard to focus your vision. The phone ringing was making your head pound harder.

You started to panic a little. You were in a small shed of some sorts. Its shelves were adorned with basic house supplies; leftover cans of paint, garden tools, bricks, buckets, tools. They were all old and forgotten, cobwebs and dust along every flat surface. You were tied to a desk in front of you, and you were seated in an uncomfortable wooden chair. There was one single 40 watt lightbulb above you, its yellow light barely emitting anything. Its dim brightness was casting an awful amount of shadows, but you turned your attention to the ringing noise. Your phone was in your pocket, and you pulled on the handcuffs in your hands.

You tugged and tugged, your wrists cutting at the bases. You decided you only needed one hand to reach the phone and yanked at your hand. Tears stung your eyes, and you let out whimpers and groans as you pulled and pulled at the skin on your wrist. The dull metal was curling at your skin, nipping it in all sorts of places and leaving you a whimpering and bloody mess. After a few failed attempts, you pulled your hand free; not before hearing something crack.

You cried out in pain, breathing hard as you felt the pain coarse through you. It sent waves of unpleasantness through your body, making it hard to breathe and even harder to concentrate on the phone ringing. The ringing stopped, but then it rang again. Your hand shook as you grabbed the phone, pain radiating off of you as you dropped the phone on the table. You wanted to cry out in happiness at the sight of Barry's name on the caller ID. You answered quickly, turning it onto speaker.

"(y/n)? (y/n)? Are you there?" His voice came out worried and harsh, and you wanted to see his loving and worried expression bad. But those ideas would have to wait.

"Barry," you let out, the tears making the blood in your mouth taste saltier. Your voice was strained. Back in the Cortex, Barry could feel the worried tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. Cisco was trying to triangulate the call, focused on his computer. You panted on the other end, letting out a whimper as you held your wrist. "Barry, help me, please...I-I don't know where I am."

"It's okay, (y/n), just hang on, okay? I'm gonna come get you, I promise," he said quickly, beginning to pace. The anger in his body was ready to come out; how dare anyone touch you, someone so precious to him?

"You promise?" You squeaked, smiling a bit. Barry let out a shaky breath, narrowing his eyes at Cisco. You waited for him to respond, forgetting just for a few seconds about the pressure of pains attacking your senses.

"I promise, (y/n)," Barry said firmly. You laughed a little, and Barry smiled on the other end. You were about to say something more, but suddenly the lights went out in the shed. You let out a shriek of fear, and Barry's eyes widened. "What? What's wrong?"

"The lights, the lights went out," you said softly, looking around. A door opened behind you; the creaking of its hinges was like poison to your ears. You suddenly began to tremble in fear, and you felt someone's breath against your ear.

"So this is Flash's precious girl, isn't it?" A voice said gently, coldly. You shivered at the feeling, whimpering away from the direction of the sound. Their hands crept onto your shoulders, and you let out a cry of fear.

"Stop! Don't touch her!"

"You will never catch me, Barry Allen. I know who you are; and I know what matters to you. I've got the woman you love, Barry. I hope you find her before it's too late."

"No! No, don't touch her! I swear—"

A hand reached over you and hung up the call. The phone went silent, and they made sure the phone was shut off to prevent any more calls. The light from the phone disappeared, enveloping you in darkness. You swallowed and looked down, beginning to laugh a little.

"What's so funny?"

"Barry doesn't love me," you laughed, shutting your eyes and shaking your head humorously. "Barry Allen loves another girl, you dumbass."

The voice behind you chuckled darkly. The air became tense again, and the saltiness of your blood was bitter against your tongue. You spit it out, letting it spray on the ground; you wished that you could've spit it at whoever was behind you. The light turned on again, and you blinked to adjust to the change.

"Are you talking about a Miss Iris West?"

You clenched your teeth; you might have been jealous of Iris, but you cared about her. You didn't answer, just shut your eyes and let the pain of your injuries settle.

"Your silence means yes, and of course Barry Allen loves Miss Iris West. But he doesn't love her like he loves you, (y/n)."

Your eyes shot open, and you stared at the wall in front of you. Suddenly the cream color of it seemed all too interesting.

"He doesn't love me," you breathed.

"No? Then why does he frequently check on your location? Why do I always find him on your block, where your apartment is? Why does he have a picture of you in the bottom drawer of his desk? Why is your name the first name on speed dial?"

Tears were coming down your cheeks, and you were smiling a little. You wanted to hate Barry. You wanted hate Barry for ignoring you, for acting like there was nothing between the two of you. You wanted to hate Barry for lost time. You wanted to hate Barry because if he really did love you, he had a horrible way of showing it.

But you didn't. You didn't hate Barry, you couldn't hate Barry. Because when you closed your eyes, you only saw his smile. You only saw him in his suit, you only saw him in all his adorableness. You saw him at the door of your apartment, holding you to his chest and putting his lips against yours. You only saw him bent over data, you only saw him in the Cortex with a physics textbook in his hands. You only saw love, as much as you wanted to hate him.

You opened your eyes, and you sniffled as you began to cry. All this time you spent brooding over Barry, feeling sorry for yourself, letting your personality drown in your envy, was for nothing; Barry loved you.

"Barry loves me," you breathed. You had to say it out loud. If it was going to be the last thing you were going to say, it would be worth it. Because to say it was for it to be real, and for it to be real was for it to be everything. Barry loving you was everything.

"And he'll hate himself for it," the voice behind you laughed. You spit out at the wall again, shaking your head. You clenched your jaw, a surge of confidence in your body. You needed to get of there alive; if what he was saying was true, you had to make it back to Barry and live to see the outcome.

"Why is that?" You wondered bitterly. An arm came around you, and you let out a sharp breath as you felt the sharp edge of a blade against your neck. You went limp in their grip, shutting your eyes as you felt the blade cut you slightly at its edges. The surges of pain were becoming familiar to you.

"Because when he finds you, he's going to realize he was too late," the voice breathed in your ear, and you cringed as they chuckled again. You relaxed in their grip, licking your lips as the fear traveled up your throat. You coughed a little, Barry's voice the only thing in the back of your head.

Just as you thought they would bring their arm back, you felt the pressure of their grip loosen. The knife clanged loudly as it hit the ground, and you heard a hard crash behind you. You were finally able to breathe, slumping against the desk as you tried to breathe. You whimpered and moaned as the strings of pain shot up your body, and you felt weak as your cheek met the surface of the desk.

"(y/n)," a familiar voice breathed behind you. You didn't have the strength to get up until his voice rang in your ears. With all you had left, your head pounded as you sat up again. Barry's masked body came around in front of you. He crouched in front of you, between your legs as he uncuffed your hands with his speed. Barry took your hand gently in his, looking up at you. You stared back down, and Barry cringed at the sight of you.

You had a large gash against the side of your forehead. Your lip had split, and there was crusted blood in its corners. You had a dark purple bruise around the forehead wound, and your face was a mix of tears and sweat and blood. Barry pulled you out of the chair gently, embracing you as you fell into his lap. You were too weak to move, just letting him hold you as you found a steading breathing pace.

"(y/n), I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry I got you into this," Barry breathed, shutting his eyes as he held you closer. You reached your good hand up and put it against his chest. Barry opened his eyes at the feeling, and you smiled sadly. His heart was beating faster than normal, but you knew it was due to his metahuman abilities.

The gesture brought Barry back to the moment he was in your apartment. It brought him back to the moment he felt you touch his heart, felt you grip his shirt in desire, felt your want in the pressure of your lips.

"No, Barry, it's okay," you assured him, leaning against him for support. You slid your hand from his chest to his face, coddling his mask and cheek all in one. Barry sighed at the feeling, relaxing in your grip. You watched as he settled against your touch and you rubbed the base of your thumb against his cheek. "But it's not okay that you lied to me."

Barry's eyes shot open at the sound, but you shook your head. "We can talk about it later. Just get me the hell out of here."

10:18 am | the following morning

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, the brightness of the room making you squint. You groaned a little as you rolled onto your side, letting out a breath as your eyes adjusted to the light. You had spent the night at S.T.A.R. Labs in the medical bay, and although the thought of staying at your own work for this long made you cringe, the thought of facing the questions at an actual hospital had you too nervous.

You looked around; the room was silent, even the Cortex was silent. You were in fresh pajamas, ones that Barry had brought you the night before from your apartment. They were your comfiest pair, fluffy cotton shorts and a matching shirt. You sat up a little, getting a glimpse at yourself in the reflection of a sleeping computer monitor.

Your gash was closed with invisible stitches. You looked worse with all the blood and tears, but without the grime, the only marks were the large bruise on your forehead and cut on your lip. Besides that, you looked okay; that was besides the large, dark circles under your eyes and the tiredness in your posture as well.

"You're awake," a voice breathed. You turned to the other side, seeing Barry. He had been sitting beside you the entire night, his clothes from the day before still on. He had a bouquet of flowers in his lap; daisies and roses, and although you hated flowers, you didn't hate them. Not when Barry was holding them, not when Barry was giving them to you.

"Are those for me?" You asked, laying back down and shifting on your side to face him. Barry set the flowers down on the bedside table, nodding his head. He went a little pink in his cheeks, smiling sheepishly.

"Yeah, they are," he replied, leaning over to look at you closer. You shut your eyes as he reached his hand over, brushing your hair behind your ear. When you opened your eyes again, Barry had moved the chair much closer. He was taking in your features and dragging one finger down the base of your jaw. You shivered underneath him, making Barry smile a little.

"Barry..." You began. You opened your eyes, and Barry's smile faded as he noticed the tears. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you spoke. "Why did you lie to me?"

Barry stood up, helping you adjust on the bed to give him room. He kicked his shoes off and climbed onto the small twin bed beside you, and you let him pull you close. His arm tucked underneath your head as you tangled your legs between his. You felt safe in his arms, and you curled into his side. Barry held you to his chest, lifting your chin to look at him.

"It was the worst mistake of my life," he said softly, "leaving you at the door like that."

You let a tear slide down the side of your face, and Barry wiped it away almost as soon as it fled. His breath was against your nose now, and you let him lace your fingers together.

"But why?" You wondered. Barry tilted his head to look at your lips.

"Because I'm dumb. And stupid. And I was scared; I was scared of what would happen to you, like what happened last night. I thought I liked Iris, I liked you, I was all over the place. But now...now all I want to do is kiss you again."

You closed the gap yourself, letting yourself melt in his arms. Barry pulled your soft body even closer to his, closing his eyes as he kissed you. You felt a wave of familiar emotions take over you; ones of desire and love, want and affection. You let out a whimper of satisfaction as you deepened the kiss, opening your mouth as you let his tongue trace the bottom of your lip.

Your led his hand to your waist, and his other hand slid up your back to cup the nape of your neck. Your good hand went into his hair, tugging at his hair as you got lost in his love. He was kissing you angrily almost, making up for lost time. You had been gone once, and he was determined not to lose you again.

Barry's hand that was on your waist slid down low to cup the back of your thigh, and you liked his touch against your bare skin. You pulled away before the kiss got too intense, breathing hard as you rested your forehead against his. Barry licked his lips afterward, breathing slow and steady as he gripped your body close.

"Jesus," Barry breathed, nuzzling his nose against yours. You giggled, gripping his hair tight. Barry loved the feeling, biting his lip as he felt your fingernails graze his scalp. "That was hot."

You laughed in his arms, the world around you obsolete to that moment. There was nothing better than being in Barry's arms, there was nothing better than being alive and being with him.

"I really hope you don't ignore me for years now after this kiss," you teased, planting another soft kiss on his mouth. Barry chased your lips as you pulled away, his smile bright.

"Baby girl, you're mine," Barry breathed, finding your lips and gently kissing you short. When you pulled away, you threw your head back in delight. Barry had called you baby girl. There was nothing sweeter than that.

"You like that?" Barry asked, planting kisses on your exposed neck. You mumbled in agreement, letting the plumpness of his wet lips do the talking. They were dancing across your skin, making you tingle with pleasure.

"Good. I'm not letting you go after this," Barry said sternly. He gripped your body tighter, as if you might slip right through his fingers.

"I'm sorry I've been gone. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. But I won't make that mistake again. I'm here now, and believe me when I tell you I'm never letting you go."

Hola, mis amores.

I hope you enjoyed this imagine. I thought it up real quick because I am having such a hard time writing a part 2 to fun. I really want that imagine to be really good and really steamy, but I literally erase it every time I start to write it. Please give me ideas below for anything; another imagine, whatever it is. Please vote and give love below, it definitely motivates me to write more. Thank you, gracias.

Love, B