#Silly Antics in Flashfam

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Heels Over Head

Fandom: DC Comics, Flashfam

Summary: Young Don tries to impress Meloni with some help.

Chapters: 1/?

Characters: Don Allen, Meloni Thawne, Dawn Allen, Jeven Ognats, Barry Allen, Iris Allen, Wally West

Relationships: Don Allen/Meloni Thawne, Dawn Allen/Jeven Ognats, BarryIris

Additional Tags: No Capes AU, No Powers AU, College AU, Don Allen and Meloni Thawne First Meet, POV Don Allen, Romance, Fluff, Silly Antics in Flashfam

Chapter One: Origami

I didn’t usually run late. I stopped to grab a coffee at the campus cafe. But buying a coffee took longer than I expected. I ran across the quad with coffee before running into a beautiful woman with tousled hair and stylish sunglasses. She held me still while she looked me over. “Did I hurt you? I’m such a clumsy ox… Jeez, and I—. I spilled your coffee!” she shouted in Interlac. “Oh, let me buy you another.” I smiled, picking up the cup to toss it in the trash.

“No, it’s alright. I should be apologizing to you—.” 

“Please. My conscience will eat at me if you don’t let me buy you another,” the young woman insisted. I attempted to shrug it off.

“Sorry… I’m already running late for class—.”

“Give me your classroom number and your order,” she interrupted. I opened my mouth to protest, and she took out a notepad from her skirt pocket. I could tell she wasn’t willing to let me go without replacing it. So, I wrote my room number and order, not expecting her to follow through. I just wanted to get to class on time. She took her notepad, and we went our separate ways. 

I snuck into the back of my auditorium class and got my notes and pens together. 

The professor was a few minutes late getting started, so I didn’t lose any time. My professor started every class with music and had us journal our feelings. We journaled for ten minutes before touching on the curriculum, and I almost forgot about my run-in with the woman. The door opened, and I glanced to my left to see the woman from earlier creeping toward me. She sat next to me and slid my coffee to me. “Oh, um—.” She held her pointer finger to her lips to discreetly shush me. Then, I watched as she took her journal out and took notes as if she were in the class. I sipped my coffee and smiled. It was perfect. We sat next to each other, taking notes for the duration of the class while she drank a smoothie. 

She was peculiar in every way imaginable. She never took her sunglasses off, leaned in to sip her drink without using her hands, and silently clapped whenever someone said something interesting. There was an alienness to her that was so prevalent that her beauty didn’t distract from it. It almost felt like a fever dream to interact with her. When the class ended, she collected her things and left without a word. I followed her, trying to keep up as she rushed across the street and stopped at the park. She sifted through a crowd of children at an ice cream truck, reached into her bag, and handed the ice cream man a sizeable amount of cash. The children cheered as the girl stepped aside and let the kids get their ice creams. After they dispersed, she got her ice cream and pointed in my direction. I assumed she wasn’t talking about me, but there was no denying it once she sat beside me on the bench. 

“Do you want the Oreo Klondike or the wonky Spider-Man? Wait… Are you vegan or lactose intolerant?” she asked. I shook my head. 

“Thank you… Could I have the weird Spider-Man?” I asked. She giggled and nodded. 

“I have that class later in the day… I won’t have to go now,” she explained. I opened my ice cream and started eating. “Do you ever wonder what it feels like to be a child?” 

I tilted my head, staring at her, waiting for an explanation. She ate her ice cream, stopping once to clutch her head with brain freeze. The girl pressed her thumb to the roof of her mouth and ate the rest of her ice cream sandwich. I wanted to tell her she was beautiful, but it wouldn’t have meant anything… Not to someone like her. “You say that as if you weren’t a child. Don’t you remember?” I asked. She shook her head. 

“Me? Oh, no. I was never a child… Just—. I was younger and smaller,” she whispered, pausing with fingers dancing on her chin. “No… I don’t believe I was a child. I was something else entirely.” I chewed my lip. “Were you a child?” 

“I was… I think,” I replied. 

She leaned close, lowering her sunglasses until we were almost close enough to kiss. “You probably were… But you don’t remember,” she replied, “Thank you for having an ice cream with me.”

I opened my mouth to tell her something, but she stood up to leave. “Do you have to go?” I asked. She pinched my cheek. 

“We’ll see each other again. I’m sure of it,” the girl replied, “And maybe … Maybe you’ll remember what being a child was like… I hope you’ll tell me.” 

I nodded, speechless, as I watched her walk away. I finished my ice cream and stared up at the clouds. Something about that exchange felt so genuine and intimate. I didn’t want to forget, so I went over it in my head a million times. After several minutes, I decided to take the streetcar home. 

I liked the scenery. The trees and the sunlight through the dirty windows. It was a pretty picture of home. My parents were American, but we grew up in another country, Interla. I’d never known any other place. I watched the city unfold in colors. Blurs of lavender, pink, and greens. I saw murals and beautiful bricks. I saw my world at over one hundred miles an hour… And it was lovely. Meeting that young woman felt like riding in the streetcar. I met her when my mind was going one hundred miles an hour, and before I knew it, our interaction was over. 

How do you forget someone who makes you feel that way? How do you go on walking around after meeting someone so uniquely beautiful? There was no one like her. No one that I could think of. It isn’t every day you meet someone who gives you a task you want to follow through on. Not out of mere duty to someone… No.

I wanted to remember childhood in the purest sense to understand her. If I could return to the things that made me smile and laugh as a child, I could understand what she asked of me. I took it seriously. I had to. I was convinced she was curious and that I could win her affection —or attention— by giving her words honest consideration. It was my semi-scientific approach to a peculiar crush. I knew nothing about her outside of the things I observed. She was considerably wealthy. She was a college student… And she was kind. I didn’t know her name, dreams, or aspirations, but I wanted to know. I wanted to know everything there was to learn about her. I desired to unfold her bit by bit like a story. First, I became interested in the look. Then, I noticed the outward quality… And I would later fall in love with the everything. The truth. The person. The flaws that hid behind the cover. I’d never been more in love in my life.