Sparks Fly {the flash}

fifteen

Barry

I slowly woke to the rather potent smell of coffee permeating the air. I deeply inhaled the delicious scent, stretching my arms across the surprisingly empty bed. I opened my eyes to see that the space next to me was vacant, the dark magenta sheets thrown back from the pillows. I looked around the unfamiliar room in search of the blue-haired girl that was absent. I yawned before sitting up on the comfortable mattress, stretching out my surprisingly sore muscles. I hadn't been sore in a while, and I was assuming that it was because of the amount of energy that I had absorbed when I ran into the bomb last night. I shook of the soreness and climbed out of bed, almost forgetting that I had kept my jeans on when Izzy and I decided on going to sleep. I had done it more out of respect than anything, and I could tell that she greatly appreciated it. I looked around for the sweater that I had tossed on the floor last night, but I saw it nowhere. I furrowed my brow slightly before realizing that Izzy had probably taken it.

Izzy and I had stayed up late into the night last night talking about dozens of different topics. We had mostly talked through her anger towards me about deactivating the bomb. It hadn't been very easy, but we'd managed to get past it with minimal yelling or emotional damage. She hadn't gotten to the place where she could forgive my actions--which I completely understood--but she had managed to accept what I had done without being irate at the subject. After we'd talked everything through, we watched a few reruns of Friends before calling it a night. We'd both had a rather long and eventful night, so we were out like a light once we'd settled into the bed. Holding her in my arms as we fell asleep was something that I thought I would only dream of, and it was hard for me to come to terms with the idea of having to eventually let go of her.

I slowly made my way out into the main part of her loft, seeing her perched on one of the stools at the bar. Her back was turned to me, but I could tell that she was looking down at something on the counter as she sipped her coffee. I smiled at the sight of her wearing the dark gray sweater that I had been wearing last night, finding that the material looked far better on her than it ever did on me. I quietly wandered over to her, wrapping my arms around her waist and resting my chin on her shoulder. She had jumped slightly when I first touched her, but she quickly relaxed into my touch, a smile appearing on her face. I saw that she had been scrolling through Picture News' website on her iPad and reading some of the articles on Hartley's broadcast last night.

"Good morning." She greeted happily.

"What are you doing up so early?" I questioned, having anticipated me being the first one up.

"I was going to make breakfast, but then I remembered that I can't cook." I laughed, resting my forehead on her shoulder. "I'm serious." She chuckled.

"I know." I stated, kissing the side of her head before sitting in the seat next to you. "It just tickled me."

"Did you know that every paper in the city has already written dozens of articles on what happened last night?"

I chuckled lightly. "Iz, you know I don't care about that stuff."

"I know, but listen to this: 'Even going up against as malicious a criminal like The Pied Piper, The Flash's bravery never once wavered. He stared into the face of his own demise, but he did not back down. He stood before his city and courageously fought for our safety at the risk of his own life. He is the spark of hope that our city needed, and we are forever indebted to him.'"

"Who wrote that?"

She smiled. "Iris did."

I chuckled lightly. "Of course she did."

"Well, it is her job, you know."

"So, do you look up Flash articles every morning after an appearance?"