|a Grant Gustin fan fic through a stream of text messages| • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • It was Barry Allen. It was The Flash. It was Sebastian Smythe. It was Grant Gustin! I literally was standing in front of and talking to Grant Gustin... Oh crap, I literally just spilled scalding hot coffee on Grant Gustin! What if I burned him? What if he has marks and welts on his chest and abs? Should I ask him to lift his shirt so I can check? Dude. Cam, be normal. Granted that's asking a lot-- just be, you know, not how you can be sometimes. • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • Camryn Reynolds bumped into Grant Gustin at Starbuck's one morning and, since then, their lives haven't been the same.