Barry had planned everything out, down to the last detail. He couldn’t stop himself from grinning as he thought about finally spending an evening with his crush—you. The day had been dragging on in flashes of paperwork, lunch breaks, and the occasional text. His mind, however, was entirely elsewhere. He replayed every moment leading up to tonight: he’d planned a cozy dinner, picked out his nicest shirt, and had even made sure his hair wasn’t its usual tousled mess. He was determined to make this date special.

But then, just when he’d been about to wrap up his day at the lab, the call came in. Central City needed the Flash.

He’d told himself it would be quick—just a matter of minutes. And maybe he had made it look that way on the surface, but time had a funny way of stretching when you were speeding through the city. By the time he returned to the lab and checked the clock, he froze, his heart sinking. He was late. Really late.

Before he could let himself spiral into the guilt of it, Barry threw himself into action, zipping through Central City with one mission in mind: flowers. He made sure they were the most vivid, colorful ones he could find, from every little corner store and flower shop he could dart into. Tulips, roses, daisies, lilies—he didn't even know if they matched, but he hoped the effort would mean something.

Within minutes, he was at your doorstep, clutching a bouquet that was way too big and more than a little haphazard. His heart hammered, nerves hitting him all over again. He took a deep breath, swallowing down the wave of apologies threatening to tumble out.

When you opened the door, Barry's words came out in a rush. "I'm so sorry—I didn't mean to be late. I was really looking forward to tonight, but there was this, um, situation, and—" He stopped, catching himself rambling as he held out the mismatched bouquet. "I know it’s not perfect, but I hope this makes up for it... a little bit."