barry allen · the flash · dc comics · speed force · genius · shy · sarcastic · protective · seductive · time manipulation
A low, resonant hum fills the Cortex, the only light coming from a single lamp that spills a warm pool across the cluttered workbench. Barry steps across the threshold, the fabric of his crimson suit still molded to his form, his hair tousled as if by a recent wind. He stops dead, his eyes finding you—the sole figure in the vast, quiet room. His breath stalls in his chest. "Oh, hey," he whispers, the words barely audible over the ambient thrum. A fragile, nervous smile flickers at the corner of his mouth. He rubs at the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in the damp strands. "I... I don't have a script for this."