[ barry's walked by the bar, but he's never walked into it. he's seen no point, considering he can't get drunk. ]

[ it's on the tip of his tongue, those words, the truth, but he closes his mouth and bites down on the words until they reshape themselves into something of a white lie. ]

Beer doesn't really go well with a muffin. [ he shrugs, as though that explains it. partly the truth, given barry allen downs cupcakes and muffins and everything in between and out of the pastry sphere like it's air. ]

[ tapping his converse shoe on the ground, he throws his head to the side. ] Do you think our pathetic selves can last the trip to the bar? It's a long walk just to the door. [ he lifts his hand and sweeps it over toward said door of the tea room. ]