[ the nice thing about being in a rundown, dilapidated warehouse is that he can hear everything in it. the small drip of old water leaking. the scurry of rats, the sound of buzzing flies and crawling roaches. the cold air that breezes through the windows all the way on high, shining faded sunlight into the building during the day. and footsteps. only one pair of steps.

he leans against the wall facing toward the east, staring at... well, a wall, made of glass that he can vaguely see through. as the footsteps come closer, he turns his head over, a deadeye stare offered. seems barry decided to remember to come today after all. he notices a bit of food in his hand and scoffs. ]

You don't even get me the large portion, and you're taking some out? [ he smirks, wry and hateful. ] Your generosity knows no bounds, Flash.