Colors

And Now I'm Covered In Your Colors, Pulled Apart At The Seams

Hi guys! Hope you're all doing good :) I've been working on this fic for well over a month, and it's FINALLY finished, so I hope you enjoy it!

Also, good chapter soundtrack is 'Iris' by the Goo Goo Dolls. One of my favorites :)

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She awoke to the annoying pulse of her alarm, cheering her up and out of the note-covered bed.

Jemma groaned and reached a lazy arm out to snag on the off button successfully. Only when the room had once more descended into complete, blissful silence did her caramel mop of hair pop out from the comforter.

Her eyes blinked away whatever traces of sleep remained – only to have her minor OCD kick in at the sight of notes and study papers thickly layering her mattress.

Unfortunately, the world was still coated in the light brown that it always was.

It was one of the disadvantages of the world she lived in – everyone was colorblind. Not entirely, every person just saw the world in the shade of their own eyes. No one was able to see anything other than that color until the day they met their soul mate.

Sometimes that day came as early as age four for some people, and other cases could be late into their forties. Either way, there was only one sure way to know whom it was.

At first touch, the female of the pair would have their male counterpart's name inked in their skin in the color of his eyes. It was like a tattoo, something of a permanent and constant reminder that there was no one else in the universe for them.

Jemma hadn't met her soul mate yet, and she wasn't anticipating the day she did. She was an independent young woman whom needed no one to get by. Although her traitorous mind always whispered that wasn't the case at all, and thought of how beautiful the world must be in color. Especially the color blue.

She sighed, grabbing as many notes as was within her reach and stacking them on the night table before completely rolling out of bed. Her sleep-dazed form stumbled around and collected whatever others remained before she dragged herself for her morning cup of tea.

The difference was instantaneous.

Immediately, Jemma was back into the prim, orderly protege that everyone else saw. Excelling in seemingly everything she touched and never with a single item out of her neatly categorized mind.

Her clothes were already assembled down to the last bobby pin, as per usual, and only a half hour later her daily morning ritual was nearing its end.

It was all moving along perfectly.

Until she stepped out the door.

Immediately, her painstakingly organized notes went one way and she the other as she crashed into a passerby. Jemma let out a small yelp, landing on something soft and warm as her tea mug sloshed onto her freshly pressed blouse.

It took her a small collection of seconds, but when she caught her bearings, it was with the up-most level of hate and disgust.

"Fitz!" she hissed out, eyebrows knit in anger. "Of course, out of all the people in the world I would run into you –"

He simply stared up at her, dumbfounded, with horror in his wide eyes. "I . . . um, ah . . . Simmons-"

His hands danced over her, nervously placing on her waist, then her thighs before falling on either side of his head. "Um, before you rip my bloody head to shreds, could you get off? I think we're drawing an audience . . ."

Jemma's head jerked up, realizing that they were, in fact, gaining a crowd. A few had their hands over the mouths, suppressing laughter and one had even gone so far as to pull out their phone to take a few pictures.