~More Than A Program~/// Bart Allen x Reader

Chapter 11

Just wanted to get another chapter out for you guys xD I don't get why it's so hard to write on snowstorm days? It's like you're way too lazy and suddenly don't want to do anything, haha. Anyway, this chapter is a little short, but I hope you guys like it anyway!

Oooh, and by the way. If any of you guys see mistakes in the story, could you please let me know in the comments? Thanks <3

Chapter 11

With a loud grunt of annoyance, you slumped down on your couch and buried your face into your hands, tugging at your bangs. Darn had it been a bad, no, a terrible day. After your outburst from yesterday, you were suddenly very popular, and became the victim of constant dirty looks. At first, you didn't mind much and simply shook it off, but by the end of the day, students were 'accidentally' bumping into you, causing the many freefalls your poor books went through.

All of this, and your English teacher giving you a failing mark just because she could, resulted in you being in a foul mood.

Just as you decided you should relax and opened the TV, a certain speedster zoomed into the room and threw himself onto the spot next to you.

"Hey (Y/N)!" Bart cheerfully greeted as he sat up, paying no attention to his now-messy hair. You would've thought it made him look cute, but your mind was completely elsewhere at the moment. "How was your day at school?"

"Oh, hi Bart," you replied much less enthusiastically, lazily dragging your gaze over to him. "My day was crappy, thanks for asking."

"What?" Upon hearing your words, a disappointed look fell over the male's face and he frowned. "Why? What happened?"

You explained the situation to him; how the argument from yesterday earned you a filthy reputation, and how the students had just generally been jerks throughout the day. As you did so, you noticed he averted his gaze slightly, making you sigh wistfully. He hid it, but you knew very well that your teacher's stingy remarks had hurt him. But, with time, these wounds would surely heal and, eventually, become nothing but forgotten scars. You just had to leave them alone, to let them fix themselves.

"That sucks," Bart commented with a light huff once you had finished. "You must be feeling moded."

You raised an eyebrow at his odd term, but shook it off. Turning away slightly, you quietly confessed, "I... Feel angrier that anything else, to be honest. I kinda feel like punching something."

You heard Bart get to his feet and then leave the room. This confused you a little, since he had never done that before, but you didn't bother looking up nor asking him where he was going. You guessed he just didn't want to deal with you in such a bitter mood. Yeah, that's right, and he had every right to go, nothing was forcing him to stay here...

You were jolted out of your thoughts when you felt a large object hit the back of your head. Growling loudly in irritation, you sat up and turned toward your attacker, yelling furiously, "What the hell was that for!?"

Bart's innocent grin didn't calm you down in the slightest. "Maybe you can't punch me, but," he held up a pillow, "You can totally hit me with pillows!"

"Hell yeah are you gonna get some," you snarled, still ticked off about having been harassed by a pillow. Picking up said object from the floor, you rushed toward him and started relentlessly slamming your weapon against him, although....

He was laughing, half-heartedly returning your blows. He seemed to... Be having a good time?

That only fuelled your frustration even further.

You added more force into your strikes, muttering nasty curses under your breath. You didn't realize it the entire time, but... You were taking your anger and pain out on him.

But that seemed to have been his goal from the start, judging the way that, once you slowed down and then finally came to a stop, he shot you a bright grin and eagerly questioned, "So? Feeling better?"

Out of breath, you managed to gasp out, "Y-Yeah." A few moments later, when you were breathing normally again; "This isn't over yet."

His lips mirrored your mischievous smirk. "You're on. But first, time-out." When you gave him an odd look, he pointed out, "Forts, we gotta build 'em."

And indeed, the were built. Your pillow fight raged on...

Let's just say your night didn't end quite as early as you had planned it to.