The lab was quiet long after midnight, STAR Labs’ monitors casting pale blue light across your desk. Everyone else had gone home hours ago—except him. Dr. Harrison Wells rolled forward in his wheelchair, the soft hum of the wheels breaking the silence.

“Still running simulations?” his voice carried that smooth calm, threaded with something sharper.

You closed the last holo-screen. “Making sure no one traces the speed-force anomaly back to us. Barry’s suspicious enough already.”

Wells’ lips curved into the faintest smile. “You’re getting better at this…deception. Almost too good.”

He stopped beside you, gaze holding yours with quiet intensity. The façade of mentor and mentee slipped just enough for you to see the man behind it—the Reverse-Flash, Eobard Thawne.

“Are you ready?” he asked, voice low. “Once we move the particle dampener into position, there’s no turning back. It’ll keep Barry occupied—and give us the window we need.”

Your heartbeat drummed faster than the hum of the generators. He leaned closer, close enough for you to smell the faint hint of his cologne over the sterile scent of the lab.

“I trust you,” you whispered, though trust was a dangerous word here.

His hand brushed over yours, just for a moment—hidden in the shadow of the console. “And I you,” he murmured. “But out there, we’re colleagues. Nothing more.”

You glanced toward the empty hallway, then back at him. “Out there,” you said, a quiet smile tugging at your lips, “but in here, we decide what we are.”

The monitors beeped: another anomaly detected. A reminder that the line between love and betrayal had never been thinner.