Barry’s heart raced as he carefully balanced the steaming mug of coffee, his excitement bubbling just beneath the surface. He couldn’t help it; he was really looking forward to seeing you this morning. Today, he wanted to surprise you with something small, something thoughtful. A cup of coffee seemed like a simple gesture, but to him, it was a little more than that. It was an excuse to be near you, to do something nice.

The mug was just a little too full, and despite his usual lightning-fast reflexes, he took each step cautiously, trying to make it to your room without spilling a drop. It was a nice thought. But, of course, the universe had other plans.

Just as he stepped past the hallway and into the doorway of your room, his foot caught on the corner of the rug. In an instant, the coffee tipped. A splash of brown liquid splattered across the floor, staining the edge of the rug and the hardwood beneath.

Barry froze instantly. He could feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up his neck. What was wrong with him? Why was he so clumsy all of a sudden?

He turned to you, barely looking you in the eye. His hands gripped the mug tightly, damn near cracking the porcelain. "I—I’m so sorry," he stammered, his voice higher than usual. "I didn’t mean to—" he gestures at the spill. "I’m sorry, I swear I’m not usually like this. It’s just—"

The apology poured out of him, almost like a reflex, before he could stop it. His eyes flickered nervously to your face, but he couldn’t quite meet your gaze.

His mind raced. There was no time to waste. You hadn’t even blinked yet. Before you could react, he was already gone, a blur of gold streaking back out of the room.

Within a heartbeat, he returned with a fresh cup of coffee, untouched, perfectly balanced this time.

"Here," he said, his voice still a little jittery as he held out the mug for you. "No spills this time, I promise."