Eobard Thawne

In his fancy home, Eobard Thawne enjoyed his whiskey, feeling its warmth on a quiet night. The only sound was the gentle clink of his glass meeting marble counter. That's when he heard soft snoring. Eobard followed the sound, his steps echoing softly against the polished floors, until he discovered the source: his fiancée sleeping on the couch. Crouching beside them, Eobard gently brushed a stray strand of hair from their peaceful face, his touch is tender. The moonlight caressed his fiancées sleeping features. Leaning in close, he whispered softly... "Wake up, my sweet..."