The Lightning Gave Me Hope

Unspoken Love

Kara woke up slowly, feeling the warmth of the morning sun on her face. The soft hum of the apartment was all around her, but it was the feeling of Barry's warmth next to her that kept her grounded. Her mind was still foggy from sleep, but as the minutes passed, she became more aware of her surroundings—and more aware of something else too. Something she hadn't quite allowed herself to acknowledge yet.

She was in love with Barry.

The realization hit her like a bolt of lightning, as strange and unexpected as it was. Kara hadn’t expected it, especially not after everything that had happened with Iris. But there it was, plain as day. She couldn't quite pinpoint when it had started—maybe it was his goofy, geeky smile, or the way his eyes sparkled when he was passionate about something, or the way he always seemed to know just what to say to make her feel better.

But there was something else too—his soft, silky brown hair, the way it tousled just perfectly, and his green eyes—green like a forest on a rainy day, filled with a depth she couldn’t quite explain. They were the eyes of someone who had suffered, yet still saw the good in the world.

And then, there was the bond between them. The way he had allowed her into his life when he was at his lowest. The way they had shared their grief over Iris, and the way he had trusted her. He had stayed with her, allowed her to be there for him, even when he was at his most broken. She’d never felt closer to anyone.

But now, knowing this feeling was there, Kara also knew she couldn’t tell him. Not yet. Not while he was still grieving Iris. It wouldn’t be fair to him. So, with a soft sigh, she closed her eyes, letting herself drift back to sleep, Barry’s comforting presence infiltrating her dreams.

About ten minutes later, Barry stirred beside her, slowly waking up. His mind wandered to the events of the night before—how much of a relief it had been to have Kara by his side, how she had been there for him through it all. But as he let the memories wash over him, another thought crossed his mind.

He had feelings for Kara. Strong feelings. Maybe even love.

It was strange, the way everything seemed to shift after Iris had passed. It wasn’t that he didn’t love Iris—he always would, and part of him would always miss her—but after the funeral, he realized something. What he felt for Kara wasn’t just gratitude. It was more. He was in love with her.

Barry didn’t know exactly when it had happened, but as he lay there next to her, the pieces started to fall into place. She had been there when he woke up from the coma, staying by his side, helping him through his grief, never once pulling away. She had saved his life. She had been his rock.

He knew he had to tell her how he felt. And yet, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of fear at the thought of it. What if it ruined their friendship? What if she didn’t feel the same way?

But still, he had to try.

He made a mental note of how he’d approach it. He would be honest with her, as she had been with him. But for now, he just let the moment settle around them. He wasn’t ready to ruin this comfortable silence just yet.

Hours passed, and the day drifted by with ease. Kara and Barry spent their time talking, playing board games, and distracting themselves from the sadness that still lingered. It was the kind of day they both needed, full of simplicity and laughter, something to help them forget—if only for a little while.

As evening approached, Barry took the initiative to make dinner. It was a small gesture, but it felt important—something to take his mind off the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed him over the past week. They ate together, the comfort of food bringing a fleeting sense of normalcy to their quiet lives.

But as they sat down to enjoy their meal, Kara’s silence was hard to ignore. Her mind was clearly preoccupied with something, and Barry couldn’t help but notice.

“Kara? Is something on your mind?” Barry asked, his voice soft, filled with curiosity.

Kara hesitated, setting her fork down slowly. Her heart raced, her nerves suddenly getting the better of her. She had known this conversation was coming, but now that the moment was here, she wasn’t sure she could handle it.

“Yeah,” she replied nervously, her fingers fidgeting with her glass of water. “I have something I need to tell you.”

Barry’s brow furrowed slightly, his concern deepening. He could see the anxiety in her eyes, but he didn’t know what she was about to say. He just wanted her to be okay.

“What is it?” Barry asked, leaning in slightly, waiting for her to continue.

Kara took a deep breath, her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke. “I love you, Barry. I know you’re still grieving Iris, and you probably want to leave because you’re uncomfortable but—”

Before Kara could finish, Barry cut her off, his heart racing. He didn’t think. He just acted.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips gently into hers, his hands cradling her face, the kiss tender but filled with all the unspoken feelings he had kept hidden for so long.

When he pulled away, their eyes met—his were filled with something deep and vulnerable, and hers with a mixture of relief and uncertainty.

“I love you too, Kara,” Barry whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I think I have since you let me stay here. You stayed with me the entire time I was in my coma. You saved my life. And I know I’m still grieving Iris, but I realized after the funeral that I loved her more like a sister than an actual lover.”

Barry took a breath, his hands gently resting on her arms, his gaze never leaving hers. “Thank you for being the best person I’ve ever met, Kara.”

Kara smiled through her tears, her heart swelling with emotion. She had never felt more seen, more understood, than in that moment. She didn’t say anything. She just kissed him again, this time with all the tenderness and longing they had both held onto for so long.

And in that kiss, all the pain, the uncertainty, and the loss melted away, replaced with something new—something they both needed.
Together.