Barry Allen x Flash | imagines

free

Warning: mature language and content
third person
word count: 6,600
11:45 pm | you didn't even know his name — but it didn't matter

Love was a word that did not exist in your vocabulary. It was not a word taken lightly in your mind, it was not a word that was played around with. These days, the word had lost its meaning. Everyone said they loved everyone, and it meant absolutely nothing.

The first time you discovered the insignificance of the word was when you were holding your best friend's hair back as she threw up the night's regrets. She had drank too much, she had kissed too many guys, and she was in your arms in the aftermath.

"He said he loved me," she whined. "He said he loved me."

The second time you discovered the unimportance of the word love was when you were yourself in a moment of heat and desire. You had drank a lot at the party that night, but you were not drunk. You still had your senses even if you couldn't stand too well on two feet. And you were dancing, and you were kissing, and he was handsome.

"I love you," he whispered, licking his lips as he drank in the sight of my body. "God damn, I love you."

You were so tired of the people playing with others by using those three words so easily. Love was not easy. Love was scary and two-faced and a cold-hearted bitch. It wasn't fair.

It was cold. Really, really cold. It must've been thirty degrees out, and you could see your breath in front of you as you walked. It was quiet in Central City. Tuesday night. It was dangerous to walk the streets this late. It was dangerous to be a woman by yourself. It was dangerous to be alone. And although you should've been afraid, you weren't. You were never afraid.

"You're gonna have to start paying me for this," a soft voice said beside you. You smiled, pulling your scarf tighter around your neck.

"I don't ask for you to watch over me," you said matter-of-factly. You turned to see him. Flash was walking in the shadows, but it was him nevertheless. You smiled a little to yourself. You noticed his eyes sparkling with red, something you liked. The unique part about Flash was that energy seemed to just radiate off of him, and you liked it.

"Well, you know I can't help it."

"I can take care of myself."

"They all say that."

"All of the others damsels in distress? All of the other girls?"

Flash sighed, his eyes shutting for a moment. You lost the red. "T-That's...not what I meant."

You smirked a little, biting your lip to keep it from growing. "Sure. Whatever you say."

The hour was late. You knew it wasn't a good idea. But you had to get home, you had to sleep. You had to get up early for work, you had to rest. You just decided to keep your finger on your phone and one eye on the back of your head. You would be okay, you concluded. You had walked home this late before.

The crime rate in Central City was rising. Although the Flash was a fierce competitor, it only made the criminals rise in determination, skill, and plan. They had to try harder to get what they wanted, and they were up for the challenge. Especially other metahumans; they loved a fight.

Tonight, though, you knew Flash wouldn't help you. Flash dealt with bigger things. Bank robberies, shots fired, burning buildings—that was more his market. Flash wouldn't come for you if you got in a tangle tonight. It wasn't personal, it was just reality. Nothing to get mad about, but some heroes just can't be in two places at once.