Barry Allen x Flash | imagines

lost

request sneak-peak: "...this would be super depressing but maybe —?— could happen, maybe (y/n) and write from Barry's indirect view..."

playlist:
how will i know by sam smith
marvins room by drake
thinkin bout you by frank ocean
silence (feat. khalid) by marshmello
too good at goodbyes by sam smith

Warning: mature language and content
third person
word count: 8,245
2:33 pm | reliving every moment is torture

Roses were always your favorite. There was much to be admired by them. So beautiful, crimson red with the brightest stems, until you touched her. Then, she'd prick you with her thorns and betray the beauty she held in her petals. She was such a bitch, but your favorite nonetheless.

Barry was sitting in the grass, holding a fresh bouquet of roses in his lap. He turned them over in his hands, and the plastic covering around them crinkled under his touch. He smiled down at them. They were red and bright, just how you liked them. A bouquet held twelve flowers, and he put the first one down in the ground beside him.

"I have someone that I want you to meet. You remember the really cute nerdy scientist I've been telling you about since we met?" An excited voice said behind you. You looked up from your desk, a plate of noodles in front of you. You narrowed your eyes at Iris West, who was squealing a little in her heels. You shook your head, the noodles in your mouth now.

"Iris, seriously, I have a deadline to make for this essay, and I really need to eat before I start writing again," you complained. Iris shook her head, grabbing your freehand. You gripped your chopsticks tighter in your other.

"Please, (y/n), it's that guy I've been talking about," Iris pleaded. You groaned, chewing the noodles.

"Even worse! I am not looking particularly presentable," you moaned. Iris disappeared around the corner, and you sighed, turning back to your noodles. You dipped your chopsticks in, putting a good handful into your mouth. Suddenly, you heard muffled, frustrated whispers getting louder. Before you knew it, Iris had shoved a tall guy into your view and she was standing behind him grinning proudly.

"(y/n)! This is Mr. Barry Allen," Iris introduced you. "Barry, this is (y/n)."

You sucked in a stray noodle, swallowing quickly. Barry looked absolutely lovely that day. He was wearing a long-sleeved button up and jeans, his hair a little disheveled but not unkept. It was not his attire or his height or even his smile that caught your attention. It was his green eyes, glowing a hazel in the bright afternoon sun. You dropped your chopsticks on your desk, standing up, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

"H-Hi," you stammered. Barry's dazzling smile grew, and you managed a small smile in return. It was a few long moments before you realized he was holding a bouquet of flowers in his hands. "A-Are those for me?"

"Oh! O-Oh, right, yes," Barry chuckled nervously. He stepped closer to you to hand you the flowers, and you took them gratefully. You buried your nose into some of the petals, smiling appreciatively.

"Roses, how'd you know?" You asked. Barry glanced back to where Iris stood, but she was gone. The two of you just smiled, and Barry chuckled again.

"Uh, Iris mentioned something about it," he replied. "And I hope you like the color. S-She never mentioned what color."

"They're beautiful," you assured him, setting them down on the desk. Barry's nervous butterflies began to calm in his stomach, and he just stood there a bit oddly, smiling stupidly at you.