Who Am I? » [Stucky]

155. Young Love

Jemma rushed up the stairs as fast as her tiny wiry jelly-like legs could carry her, feet hooking under the top step and tripping her as she ran up there - but she caught herself on the bannister and stumbled her way into the main communal area, staggering on weak knees and wobbly ankles.

"Please say you're here... Please be here... Please..." She chanted longingly, praying to the god she didn't believe in.

He was there, balanced casually against the holotable in the secluded glass encased meeting cabinet room talking to Bruce. His elbow was balanced atop the touch screen glass and his hands danced in the air animatedly as he spoke - trying to vocalise through his body.

He was stuttering in his adorable Scottish accent like a fool; trying desperately to socialise with the other genius. "N-no... But therm-ther-thermonuclear astrophysics is still s-simpler than... Than uh-"

She kicked off her cramped heels and padded over the last few steps. She rocked up onto her blistered tip toes and threw her arms around his neck. She roped him down with her grabby hands. She broke down the instant she was certain she was safe and encompassed by his person, sobbing against his scratchy navy woolly sweater, face smothered by his chest.

Fitz stiffened - body locking in bewilderment - and froze like a statue, eyes begging for advice from Bruce.

Her shoulders twitched and rocked as she cried, her gaspy mewls being distorted by his chest. Her hands clinched in the material of his jumper, dragging him closer and clutching him in a vicelike hold, making her grip inescapable; no matter how much he slithered and twisted.

"I'll give you both a moment..." Bruce whispered with a coy smile. "Word of advice, just act natural, kid." Bruce snapped hi a fraternal wink as he walked out.

"Fitz..." She wept into his chest, heaving in breathless gasps; still shaken from being thrown into a warzone.

"Hey..." He cooed in an angelic voice, hands descending around her, cocooning her close. "It's alright..." He floundered over phrases of conciliation. "You're alright..." He promised, one hand slowly stroking a stripe up and down her back.

Fitz's heart was fluttering like a caged dove, and he felt tears welling up in his eyes too. When he had assessed her reaction to her hugging him back, he deemed it appropriate - with her scrunching her fists tighter in his sweatshirt - to cradle her tight and press his cheek to the top of her head.

"I'm sorry..." She whimpered, burying her head beneath his chin, enclosing herself closer to him.

"For what?" He spoke fluently, feeling his anxieties and frustrations dissipate as if they never existed. "What's brought this on?" He soothed, cupping the back of her head and trawling his fingers through her silky brunette strands

"For leaving you..." She confessed, prizing herself free from his arms and looking him in the eye with honesty; not feeling deserving of his comfort. "I left you when you needed me most..." She sobbed profusely, more whines escaping her and she covered her mouth with her hand - ashamed. She averted her gaze with guilt.

He reached to hug her again.

"No! No..." She warded him away. "I don't deserve it. I was so silly. Oh! So silly," she confessed, her eyes shining with tears. "Fitz, when I was away I realised something..." She looked him deep in the eyes, biting into her lip to suppress the cries. "Something I'd known in my heart for a very long time, but the thought only recently occurred to my stupid, stupid head..." She grumbled, fists curling tight and thumping into her sides stroppily.

"You're not stupid," Fitz mused, eyes clouded with elation.

"No, I am! For denying it for so long. But it was only when I was alone, only when I was afraid that I finally realised it: and I'm ashamed that that's the kind of jeopardy I had to experience before I finally realised it," she professed, flapping a hand by her eyes to try and wave away the tears.