FS + 85 “It doesn’t bother me.” Please and thank you!
Hey there, anon! Here’s “It doesn’t bother me,” inspired by this fantastic fanart by @captainironnerd!Jemma opens one eye, taking a deep breath only when she sees that it really is him in her arms. She’s bone tired, of course, but she finds herself drifting in and out of sleep with a need to see the curve of his ear or the rise and fall of his cheekbones as he breathes. Her hands lay directly over his chest, and the drumming of his heart provides an all-encompassing relief more powerful than sleep. She selfishly hugs him tighter and releases the air from her lungs.
He is breathing.
His heart is beating.
He is here.
He is hers.
There may be a day when she takes this for granted. One day, she’ll be so used to waking up tangled in him that it will simply be a part of her morning routine, that they will wake up and smile at each other with no need to hold on tight. Maybe they’ll simply continue living the life they built together without worrying that it will all fall apart.
Today, though, she treasures these golden moments when the sky isn’t falling, when he is Fitz and she is Simmons. They’ve been separated too many times but together, they make something magnificent.
She feels him begin to stir, knowing he is squinting against the sunlight even though she can’t see him. His body must be heavy from sleep and warm from being wrapped up in her, as even her ice bucket hands have melted into him. His hand covers hers where it lays on his chest, and he groans.
“Can we stay here?”
She’s not sure if he’s talking to her or just talking in his sleep, so she buries her face into his neck and waits.
“I know you made your plans,” he mumbles, “but we can finish tomorrow.”
Realization dawns on her as she lets her world grow wider than the two of them and this bed, until it encompasses the mountain of boxes that lay at their feet. There’s a similar mountain in each room of their new flat, each one a carefully-labeled stack that is to be dismantled in a pre-determined sequence. It was a different Jemma who made that plan, one who was so fixated on securing their future that she lost her grip on their present. As sound as the plan may be, it doesn’t account for exhaustion or naps, and it certainly doesn’t anticipate her current need to hold on to this moment as tightly as she’s holding on to him. If she’s learned anything in the past few years, it’s that some plans are meant fall into ruins.
“It doesn’t bother me,” she whispers into his ear, and it really doesn’t. She has a timetable, but this is bigger than time. “We can sleep if you want.”
“I do,” he groans, now hugging the arms that are hugging him. “Just a little bit longer.”
She smiles into his neck as she feels him slip back into his dreams, wishing at once that she could go with him and stay here, cherishing each moment she has at the same time she yearns for a thousand more.
How she could ever take this for granted, she doesn’t know. Maybe they’ll stay like this, but maybe their edges will soften until they can hold each other close without the fear of getting ripped away. Maybe their wounds will heal into the kinds of scars that make them stronger. For now, she will let herself have both the things she wants, snuggling even closer to him as she dreams about the future they’ll have.
She closes her eyes and lets a vision unfold before her, letting their flat get covered in vines as it grows large enough to stand on its own. Sleep marches towards her to the beat of his heart, and as her body gets heavy, she knows this may be another plan destined for change.
But as she breathes in his scent, reveling in him as her dreams overtake her, she finds that this doesn’t bother her, either.
After all, everything she wants is already in her arms.
