[Before Barry can react, the woman is so much closer to him than she'd been the second before, a warm palm curling delicately under his chin. Just as the blanket of silence descends upon the other tavern patrons, time seems to skip with how fast she's suddenly there, her grinning mouth just an inch or so away from the man's own. It feels like they're out of sync with the rest of the world completely in this moment, trapped in their own little bubble, deaf to everything else. Just the two of them.

She tips his chin up just slightly, to where she can capture Barry's gaze in her own.]

Didn't I hear someone call you that earlier in the week? [Unlikely. But it seems like an easy enough angle to spin. Maybe he'd just forgotten.] Cute name for a cute man. What can I say? It stuck with me.

[Her fingertips, cold and smooth, dance upwards across his cheeks, caressing over flushed skin.]

You stuck with me. I've known hundreds of men, but none of 'em are half as special as you.