And his hand abruptly stopped, fading back into its solid state as he stared down at Barry. It was a moment, lingering, that Eobard held his position, hovering over Barry, hand holding him to the ground, before he jerked away, pushing himself to his feet by leveraging off of Barry's chest and stalking backwards, putting some distance between the two of them, confusion knitting his features. "That's it?" The question was pointed, laced with disappointment and frustration. "You're just... giving up?"
It was hard to tell whether the reaction was motivated by the concern that seemed to have settle over him or the lingering appearance of frustration, presumably of being robbed of his game, or some convoluted mix of the two, torn between two positions as far as his rival was concerned, split between his loathing of the Flash and his affection for Barry. But whichever was dominant, both parts wanted to know the same thing.