Prompt: "I just want this"

xXx

Iris West has always been go-getter. Even when she doesn't have a clear idea what the future has in store for her, she's always known what she wants out of it, just like she knows what she expects from other people, from her life, and from herself. She's always been firm about the things she wants, and she's never been afraid to go after them. More often than not, she succeeds.

So what the fuck happened there?

That, she thinks, is a really good question.

What do you want? What do you want? What do you want?

She mulls the question over in her mind a million different ways, but no matter how she changes the emphasis or how she imagines it differently, her answer doesn't change. Or rather, her lack of an answer.

Because for once, she just doesn't fucking know.

It's all Barry's goddamn fault, making her life so difficult, coming to her and pouring out his heart and confessing his love and awaking this doubt inside her and then telling her that no, he doesn't have those feelings for her anymore. Making this big muddled mess of her heart.

Because then she'll still catch him looking at her sometimes, with the same longing look she's starting to wear more and more often, and it's rapidly snowballing into one huge mass of confusion, so much so that it's honestly making her head hurt. Not to mention her heart.

'Right now, it kind of feels like you don't want to be with me, but you don't want anyone else to be with me either…'

And Christ, isn't that the fucking truth?

At least part of it has to be, because she can't help but remember the bitter taste in her mouth at seeing him kiss someone else, and the way her stomach curls at the thought of them together, at the massive guilt in her chest whenever she talks to Linda—because she does genuinely like the girl and she does want Barry to be happy, of course she does, but at the same time she can't help the jealousy slowly brewing inside of her.

And it's jealousy at what, exactly? At the thought of someone making him happier than she can? At the fact that maybe she wants to be the one he's kissing, holding close, showing up at work to take out to dinner after all?

But then there's still that huge gaping pit of uncertainty as to whether or not that's really a road she wants to go down in the first place, whether it's just her mind playing tricks on her or whether 'unrequited' was just another lie she told herself to make things seem easier.

Because being with Eddie is nice. Being with Eddie is steady. Being with Eddie is easy. Being with Eddie makes her happy.

And yet…she's just not so sure it's what she wants anymore.

The thing is, she's just never thought about Barry this way before now, in any capacity bordering on romantic. She's always been content just to have him by her side, her best friend, her support, her family. In a way, she's always just kind of had him, he's always been a part of her life, so she's never really wanted him in any other sense before.

Has she?

She really doesn't want to think about that, either.

It goes on for a little while like that, the jealousy, the longing, the uncertainty, and then one day Linda breaks up with Barry, and she can't tell whether her heart is heavy with joy or with dread.

She can't help her curiosity and she figures that her and Linda are friends, so it's not exactly weird for her to ask. When she does, Linda gives her a sad smile and pats her on the arm and tells her 'he was never really mine anyway, Iris. I think we both know that.'

And yeah. She knows.

When she breaks up with Eddie, she's doesn't cry like she thinks she will. Doesn't shed a tear, not even a drop—although he does, of course. It breaks her heart, seeing him so broken and knowing that she caused it, because he's a good guy and he's always treated her right and she had—oh god, is she really already thinking in the past tense?—genuinely loved him. She feels terrible for it, feels so guilty for hurting him, but more than anything she feels relieved. And that really scares her.

But being in Barry's arms doesn't. His face this close to hers doesn't. So when that's where she ends up, she knows she's getting closer and closer to figuring this all out. She can feel it in the way that he touches her, in the beating of his heart and in the steadily building anticipation in hers.

What do you want, Iris?

And as he's kissing her, as he's cradling her face in his hands and she's pressed up against him and there are butterflies in her stomach and a pleasant buzzing in her head and a warmth that reaches all the way down to her toes, she finally has her answer. It comes so easily, so naturally, she wonders how she ever could have had a doubt in the first place. Whether she hasn't really known it all along, after all.

The answer is so simple, so glaringly obvious, it almost makes her laugh.

I just want this.