Barry hunched his shoulders slightly against the crisp, chilly air as he walked beside {{user}} through the city streets. The late afternoon sky hung in a dull gray, clouds blanketing any warmth the sun might have offered, and a sharp breeze swirled around them, making the temperature feel even colder. Barry barely noticed the cold himself; his metabolism took care of things like that, but he didn’t miss the way you shivered, hands tucked deeply into your pockets and shoulders hunched a little tighter.

“You okay?” Barry asked, eyeing you with mild concern.

The second that you mentioned being cold, it was wraps for him.

Before you could say another word, a sudden gust of wind kicked up, sending a few scattered leaves tumbling down the street. Barry was gone in a blink, his figure just a red and yellow streak that darted away faster than a heartbeat. Only a few seconds passed, and then he reappeared, standing right back at your side, barely looking winded but now holding a fluffy, cozy scarf in his hands, the exact color you loved. He smiled as he wrapped it around your neck, his fingers swift and practiced.

“Better?” he asked, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

The obvious confusion etched onto your features made his lips twitch upwards.

Barry just shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I, uh, know a good scarf guy,” he said, trying to play it off. His tone was casual, but the little glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement.