Work Text:
You knock on the door to the office that Nash has been using. He’s been here constantly - hardly ever at S.T.A.R. Labs lately - and you’re worried that maybe he still feels terribly about all that he’d caused with Crisis. Which is why you think that a friendly cup of coffee would help him feel better. Not the cause of a huge problem, but a loved member of the team.
Twisting the doorknob, you peek your head inside.
“Nash? Hi!”
He’s currently hunched over a series of tools and tech and a book.
“Mmph,” he grunts in reply. That’s different. He’s not usually so gruff with you.
“We haven’t seen you in a while,” you go on, and can’t help but watch what he’s tinkering with. “Wow, what are you doing with all that?”
“As if you’d understand,” Nash disses you, “not.”
Whoa, rude much?
“Oh… okay, then,” you try to shake off his comment. People can be moody sometimes, you suppose. “Anyway, I brought you some coffee. I thought you might like something to keep you going with… whatever you’re working on.”
All of a sudden, Nash spins around, eyes bright and round.
“Did you say, ‘coffee’?” he asks excitedly and approaches you with hands outheld. You hand it to the man, surveying his abrupt spike in mood. He takes the Jitters cup from you and inhales the scent.
“Ahhh… that’s an Ecuadorian blend if I ever smelled it,” Nash notes. “Simply exquisite, I can’t thank you enough for bringing this sumptuous cup of java to me, (Y/N).”
Um, okay, what the hell is going on here?
Your brow furrows and you cross your arms. Something isn’t right. You try to take in everything about Nash in this moment.
“Are you okay?” you ask him.
“I think the better question is, are you okay?” he shoots back.
“Me?”
“Yes. The way you stand there. Squinting eyes, a frown, crossed arms across your chest. You are guarding yourself. You aren’t sure of something. You aren’t sure of me.”
How did he-? There’s only one man who’s been able to deduce you from one glance.
It couldn’t be…
Nash’s eyes change once more, this time much darker and dangerous. It ends a shiver down your spine. You need to get out.
“Okay, well, I guess I’ll just leave you to-” You turn around and move towards the door, but he beats you to it. His hand keeps it shut above your head. Nash locks the door and cranes his head down to meet your eyes. His whisper in your ear scares you stiff.
“You’re not going anywhere.”