✧【@sample-66 】✧
This was irritating. Perhaps not to other heroes. But to Lightspeed Flash, this was truly a test of patience. Though what in the hell could he ever do or say about it? Along with risking his life every other damn day to save someone else’s, he had to answer to cameras. Appease an audience who was far from the trouble, but still, for some reason, wanted to know what happened. And this was misinterpreted as simply being cold, cool, aloof. Flash was just fucking irritated, but his irritation was translated wrongly, subsequentially craved more. Luckily, every time he looked to his right, he was reminded that he wasn’t the only S-class who might’ve had better things to do and that he wasn’t the only one suffering because of it. At least, he hoped. He had no idea how his superior in ranks, Zombieman, actually felt about public appearances. The reserved man didn’t give ant sign he was experiencing any kind of emotion at all. Flash glanced back at the camera crew, remembering that he was free to wander away just until they come back to him, then gathered his bearings and took a deep breath. Zombieman, besides his big coat and weaponry, looked like an average man. But his rank kept a permanent air about him that... Made Flash decently more uncomfortable than he usually was with socializing when unnecessary.
“Zombieman,” he started, trying to sound like he knew exactly what he was going to say. He was glad he himself always looked angry. Angry was better than flimsy and nervous.










