[ He isn't really surprised by this kind of thing anymore. Harry relaxes, falls into the comforting gesture after only a few uncertain seconds, and it makes sense — because Harry isn't the Dr. Wells he'd been used to, terse and abrasive. Not really. He's a father, and he isn't a stranger to this.
The tension's only just started to bleed from Barry's shoulders when he pulls back, dragging a hand over his mouth in a restless gesture that does more to draw attention to his guarded expression than disguise it. His other hand slides back into one pocket, too, but he doesn't do reserved very well. The restless energy gives away his concern, open and vulnerable. ]
You don't have to do any of it on your own, either. You know that, right?
[ His voice goes a little pitchy on the question, skeptical and insistent, brows pinching together in worry. He isn't just talking about Eobard. Harry's gotten better about accepting their help back home, but it still feels precarious. ]
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The tension's only just started to bleed from Barry's shoulders when he pulls back, dragging a hand over his mouth in a restless gesture that does more to draw attention to his guarded expression than disguise it. His other hand slides back into one pocket, too, but he doesn't do reserved very well. The restless energy gives away his concern, open and vulnerable. ]
You don't have to do any of it on your own, either. You know that, right?
[ His voice goes a little pitchy on the question, skeptical and insistent, brows pinching together in worry. He isn't just talking about Eobard. Harry's gotten better about accepting their help back home, but it still feels precarious. ]