pretty wings
A.N: merry christmas everybody! it's been a long month and i'm really happy we've reached the day of family, togetherness and celebrating the birth of Jesus. i realise in the previous chapter the second author's note was incredibly passive-aggressive so i apologise for starting the story like that (i'm not apologising for my comments, however).
let's begin the story, shall we?
xXx
Sometimes she wondered what it would be like to die.
Standing over the body of Barry Allen, the man she loved, she wondered how long it would take for the air to leave his lungs; for his too-big heart to come to a complete stop.
Time had stopped long before that.
The liquids that had permeated his skin were frozen still on his body and clothes; small pieces of glass were still afloat after the initial hit; the chain that conducted the lightening into his body still gave off steam.
Iris knew that help would be on the way, because no one could've possibly missed the sound of his body hitting the shelves, but to what avail? Perhaps the hands that would attempt to save him would actually destroy him.
She could only prevent time from moving to prolong what felt like inevitable. And she knew this was forbidden. She knew her wings - her beautiful brown wings that she learned to love after her beautiful brown skin - would be burnt away; her heart would beat on, and one day she would die.
But if Barry was about to die - if this was to be her last moments with him, would it all matter?
Iris could not see a world without Bartholomew Henry Allen. Such a thing to her was nonsensical, impossible. The same way he was drawn to her, she was to him; moths to a light.
Time remained stagnant.
Bending down to kiss his still-warm lips, she muffled a sob. She couldn't bring herself to say the parting words: that would make it all the more real. Instead, she embraced the love she had for him with every fiber of her being, remembering the taste of his kisses, the smell of his hair. She could give him that much; an unspoken eulogy.
Upright again, she flew through the now-broken skylight and time resumed; she watched as officers burst into Barry's office, coming a stop just before Barry's body. Their expressions of horror and shock made it all the more real for Iris.
She flew away.
Resolve in her mind and tears half-blinding her, she headed towards the Heavens again; in her haste, she missed the exchange between the CCPD officers that confirmed his still-beating heart, that confirmed that he could still be saved.
She would only know the truth when his heart started to beat too fast, and her heart began to beat too slowly.
xXx
A.N: in case anyone is confused, this story takes place in season one; we just witnesses the birth of The Flash. next chapter will most likely be the last because i don't want to try and promise a multi-chapter story i probably won't commit to.
see ya next time!
- westallening.