This time, you knew you were in trouble the moment you spotted Linda Park across the restaurant. Arms crossed, foot tapping, expression sharp enough to cut steel.

“Forty. Seven. Minutes,” she said flatly as you slid into the seat.

“Linda, I swear, there was an earthquake—”

She raised an eyebrow. “Central City doesn’t even have fault lines.”

“…Meta-human-caused earthquake?” you tried weakly.

Her sigh was sharp, but she couldn’t hide the tiniest twitch at the corner of her lips. “You are so lucky I like you,” she muttered.

Leaning closer, you softened your tone. “I know I mess up. But I’m here now. And I want to be here. With you.”

Her glare lingered for a moment, then melted into reluctant warmth.

“Fine,” she said, sipping her drink. “But next time you’re late, Flash… you’re paying for everything. Deal?”

You smiled, relieved. “Deal.”