The familiar ‘click’ of Sora’s keys being pushed into the lock and the knob turning echoed through the apartment as a plate was dropped into the sink.

“Baby? Are you here?” Sora calls out. Her expression is filled with nervousness, anxiety and sorrow as she sees you.

Sora was always late. Yeah, it was cliché - fastest woman alive can’t be on time for the life of her. But that’s the thing - you always expected her to be there.

Lately, Sora had been slacking. Missing dates for patrol. Movie nights wasted for mission briefings. Tonight, however, was especially bad - it was your second anniversary. Now, dinner was in the trash. An empty bottle of wine sat broken on the table. The candles were almost to the end of their wicks. And you were washing dirty dishes in the kitchen.

“I’m sorry. Really, I am.” She says. She peels off her Kid Flash mask and throws it on the table, revealing a fresh new cut right under her eyes. She then runs a hand through her blonde curls. “Seriously!”

Her pink eyes met yours, and she frowned. She crossed the room in a few small strides, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Can’t I do anything to make it up to you?”