[ Cisco understands why Harry hugs Barry and Caitlin but not him. He's grateful for it; it's taking all his willpower to keep his shit together, keep it under control. Cisco knows he only has to do this a little longer. It will be easier, when Harry is actually gone. Or at least, that's what he thinks.
He doesn't leave S.T.A.R. Labs right away. He sticks around, cleaning listlessly, trying to get work done but dropping whatever he picks up after only a few seconds. Work should be able to distract him. Since when has he not been able to take his mind off things with machines? But it's no use. So he slouches into the Cortex, tells Barry that he's going home. He gives some excuse, but he can't even remember what it was a moment after. Nothing seems to be sticking to his mind: it all slides off a moment later, leaving no impression.
Probably he shouldn't even be driving in this state, but he makes it back to his apartment without running over any small children or getting into any collisions. He shuts the door, kicks off his shoes. He's halfway to the kitchen to start another pot of coffee when he starts crying. It happens all at once - one moment, he is fine, and the next the dam inside him breaks. A kitchen floor seems like as good a place as any to have a cry, so Cisco sits down, his back against the fridge, and bawls his eyes out.
He hasn't cried like this in a long time - the intense stress of the last few weeks (months, he thinks) contributes some, as does the sleep deprivation. But it's also just because he can't picture his life tomorrow and the day after and the day after without Harry. Even before they had hooked up, he had become a permanent fixture at S.T.A.R. Labs. In Cisco's life. He can't think of the last time when a day has gone by and he hasn't seen Harry for at least a few minutes.
Cisco is still crying when the door rattles on its hinges, the loud knock startling him badly. What awful timing. Is it Joe, or Barry, did something else go wrong-
Then he hears that voice, and it just. Can't be.
Cisco dries his cheeks hastily with his sleeves and gets to his feet, rushing over to the door. Confusion mutes all other emotions, for the time being. They are suspended until he figures out what this is. For all he knows, Harry's forgotten something in his room, even though he checked. So Cisco opens the door, not saying anything at all. He knows already that his face will say plenty - that his eyes and nose are red from crying and he can't stop sniffing and he must look completely miserable. ]
no subject
He doesn't leave S.T.A.R. Labs right away. He sticks around, cleaning listlessly, trying to get work done but dropping whatever he picks up after only a few seconds. Work should be able to distract him. Since when has he not been able to take his mind off things with machines? But it's no use. So he slouches into the Cortex, tells Barry that he's going home. He gives some excuse, but he can't even remember what it was a moment after. Nothing seems to be sticking to his mind: it all slides off a moment later, leaving no impression.
Probably he shouldn't even be driving in this state, but he makes it back to his apartment without running over any small children or getting into any collisions. He shuts the door, kicks off his shoes. He's halfway to the kitchen to start another pot of coffee when he starts crying. It happens all at once - one moment, he is fine, and the next the dam inside him breaks. A kitchen floor seems like as good a place as any to have a cry, so Cisco sits down, his back against the fridge, and bawls his eyes out.
He hasn't cried like this in a long time - the intense stress of the last few weeks (months, he thinks) contributes some, as does the sleep deprivation. But it's also just because he can't picture his life tomorrow and the day after and the day after without Harry. Even before they had hooked up, he had become a permanent fixture at S.T.A.R. Labs. In Cisco's life. He can't think of the last time when a day has gone by and he hasn't seen Harry for at least a few minutes.
Cisco is still crying when the door rattles on its hinges, the loud knock startling him badly. What awful timing. Is it Joe, or Barry, did something else go wrong-
Then he hears that voice, and it just. Can't be.
Cisco dries his cheeks hastily with his sleeves and gets to his feet, rushing over to the door. Confusion mutes all other emotions, for the time being. They are suspended until he figures out what this is. For all he knows, Harry's forgotten something in his room, even though he checked. So Cisco opens the door, not saying anything at all. He knows already that his face will say plenty - that his eyes and nose are red from crying and he can't stop sniffing and he must look completely miserable. ]