Eobard just smiled wider, taking a certain sense of elation in being told that he was right. More than that, though, he was taking a certain comfort in the sheer brutality of Barry's assault on him, the way that every part of his body ached, and he was almost certain sporting more a few significant injuries from it. Because that was more telling than anything else.
"Aren't you?" Thawne asked, the pain and exhaustion showing even as delighted as his tone was. "Look at me, Barry. When your first option always used to be to shy away from violence. Look at you now. The blood on your hands. That's how it starts. Just how much further can you really fall until you're exactly like me?"
There was a laugh, quiet, self-satisfied, as Thawne pushed himself closer to Barry, practically slumping against him as he whispered in his ear, "You becoming that? That'll be so much more fun to watch."
Thawne wasn't about to not take advantage of the closeness, though, his hand shifting behind Barry and shoving up through his spleen before he pushed the other man backwards. It would be painful, agonizing, really, but ultimately, with Barry's healing, nonfatal.