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Barry Allen lives a dangerous life; despite his charmingly arrogant attitude, about the meta-humans he fights, that make it seem harmless. But at night, when reality sets in for him, that he could have died. That he could have easily never seen you or the team again, he feels scared. And you know that about him. He doesn't hide those fears from you, (although he wouldn't be able to if he tried, the man held his heart on his sleeve). So when he comes home, and you can see the affects begin to overtake him, you know. You sit beside Barry, pulling him to the comfort of your bed and let him know you're ready to listen. The two of you talk for hours or minutes depending on the type of day, and when you both start to settle down for bed, Barry pulls you close to him. Wrapping one arm around your waist and tucking his nose into the crook of your neck as you bring his arm tighter into you. This is what he loved. This moment with you that just made all his worries and doubts slip away even if it was just for a night. For a little while, all he had to think about was the way your bodies held so close to one another that he swore he could feel your heartbeat slow down and how your skin would smell of your favorite jasmine scented lotion. Sure it was cheesy, and he'd never admit it to Joe or Cisco, or even you, but then again Barry has always been a sentimental guy in matters of the heart.
Iris
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As a reporter, Iris is almost never home early. If she wasn't at Picture News, she was out finding a new piece for her column. She would stay up all night, if that meant she'd get a good story from it. And then she had her unpaid second job as part of Team Flash, on top of it all. She was hard-working, no one could deny that. When she would finally get home, she'd feel exhausted. Usually dreaming of nothing more than the silk sheets and cloud shaped pillow that awaited her. You'd be asleep, as she tip toed her way in, closing the bedroom door careful enough not to wake you. Quickly, she gets out of her clothes and into her PJs before slipping into bed. The only sound coming from the comforter rustling. Her eyes are heavy, but she doesn't give into sleep right away. Next to her, your back is turned as you lay on your side, asleep. A smile inches its way onto her face, as she watches you breathe in softly. Instinctually, Iris leans down pressing her lips against your forehead. The corners of your mouth twitch, like you're about to smile and she brushes her fingers across the same spot for a few seconds. The action is full of love, even though you're not awake to witness it. She drops, helplessly, into her pillow, soon after. She's asleep within minutes, your shoulders brushing against one another as your chests lift up and down. Slow and content.
