the academy ➢ fitzsimmons

➢13

Wednesday, April 13th, 8:30 am.
Fitz came to my door, knocking rather loudly, by I guess I deserved it after practically knocking him out of his own bed. My feet stumbled to gain balance on the wooden floor as I made my way to my door.
And there was Fitz, standing in the door way; he wore a burgundy cardigan over a dark blue button-up, his hair was just as curly as it was the day before, and his smile instantly made me smile even though I tried to be mad at him for waking me.

"I got you your tea Simmons." He said handing me a nice warm cup filled with my favorite tea from the cafe below us. I smiled and nodded indicating a thank you.

"Just give me a few minutes, I let you in when I'm done changing." I said closing the door.

I stopped in front of a few piles of clothing that were spread in sections across the room.
A dress? "No" I told myself
A skirt and a nice shirt? That's my best option.
My floral skirt was Fitz's favorite, and with my white collared shirt, my outfit was spotless and clean.

"You can come in." I called to Fitz as I sat down to out on some makeup; a simple part of my morning routine.

"You know you don't need that." He said.

"Need what?" I looked down at my mascara, "the makeup? Fitz you know I just put it on for special occasions."

"I just like to let you know that." He said laughing and taking spot with his hands on the chair behind me.

"So do we have some sort of sche–"

"I got it all worked out Simmons, I know you like to be in charge but I completely got this, 100%."

"100%?" I asked looking back at him in a sarcastic fashion.

"Okay maybe 12%, just go along with me, okay?"

"Okay Fitz."

➢

The Science and Engineering Museum was smacked right in the middle of the downtown area. The building itself was beautiful, blue glass-panned windows, greens surrounding the outside, and a high structure to tower over the rest of the city.
But that was only my first impression and only the building, no, inside was the real beauty. We walked and a large chandelier, made of science equipment such as beakers and test tubes, shown above us as we continued our voyage to the first wing of the museum; history of science. The wing was fairly large and Fitz clung to my side as we excitedly shuffled through the different exhibits and models.

"Hey Jemma loo–" but I cut him off right away.

"Marie Currie!" I said excitedly making my way over to her showcase. A large glass case held some over her very own valuables that she had used while experimenting with radiation. Everything about her, everything that was her, made me the person I am today. She was one of the reasons I got into science; granted radiation wasn't my first study, but her cascade through the art of science as a woman was incredible.

"Simmons smile." Fitz said walking up behind me while holding up his phone.

"Oh, no Fitz I hate pictures." I said covering my face. He put down the phone and looked at me confused.

"Oh Simmons, really?" He waved his phone, "it's one picture."

"We have other exhibits to get to–"

"Simmons please, I want a picture of you." He said again.

"Why do you want a picture of me, it's hardly even good lighting and it's just a glass case," I said trailing and my eyes looking at the reflection.

"Because you look beautiful." He said putting back up his phone and his comment practically forced a smile on my face.
I told you he liked the skirt

➢

"Fitz, cmon we have to get to the engineering wing before we go," I continued, "We have walked through all of the science wings here, lets go see something you want to see."

"Well I'm following you."

"I thought you said that I wasn't in charge of this trip?" I asked jokingly

"Practically, I am 12% in charge of this trip." He said laughing as I practically dragged him into the engineering wing. You think he would be more willing to drag me through the section that was practically his life.

"I'm just going to go over in the chemical engineering section or showcase or whatever," I said starting to walk away from the wide-eyed, excited Fitz.

"Wait Simmons," he called back to me without taking his eyes off the display cases.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Unlike you, I would like my picture taken," he said getting his phone of his pocket and looking back at me, "here."

"No it's okay, I'll just take it on my phone."

"Are you sure?" He asked, "don't want to plague your phone storage with my pasty face."

"I swear to god Fitz, don't even. You look extremely handsome." I said taking the picture as if what I said made him smile like what he had said earlier to me made me smile.

After the picture was taken Fitz kept making comments at me such as "are you sure the picture was okay" and "my hair doesn't look very good today." I knew Fitz was insecure but he never actually cared about all of that, Fitz was Fitz. And Fitz wore sweaters all the time, had cute curly hair, loved science and burgers more than life, and had the most contagious smile in the world. But Fitz also was insecure, he always felt small, and he puts too much heart on things.

"It's getting late, I don't know how long that cafe will stay open," he said as we neared the exit of the museum.

"Yeah we should head over there, it's around the corner right?"

"Yeah."

Walking out, a rush of cold air hit both of us at the same time. My thin white shirt was no longer an insulated blanket on my arms. I started to shiver before we even hit the pavement.

"You look cold," Fitz said swinging his cardigan off his arms and placed it over my shoulders. Suddenly I was so much warmer and it felt so lovely to have Fitz sharing his sweater with me.

"Thank you Fitz." I said grabbing onto the buttoned hem as we continued our walk.

"Aren't you cold though?" I asked

"Yeah but you seemed even colder."

"It's really sweet of you Fitz, thank you." I said as he kept quiet with just a small smile on his face, as if we both were kind of lost for words. I knew I was.

We reached the warm still air of the cafe down the block. Casual lounge music played as the smell of coffee hung in the air. The menu was filled with small sandwiches and soups while coffee and tea were freshly brewing. We went through our usual routine where Fitz and I would argue who would order first and then we would forget to order drinks. He would make stupid jokes and I would give in and laugh because his facial expressions were far too strong to keep my face stilled. His sweet smile as I laughed was something I took notice of, he was proud that he had made me laugh. The night bantered on and Fitz and I talked about everything we could, some subjects were even repeated. I could talk to him for hours on end, there was no denying it. The way he looks when puzzled about a question, his eyes widen when I tell him something important, and his fascination in the way I talk as if he watches my every move; I couldn't get enough of him. When we both were laughing at how foolish we were I realized something, something that I never thought I could feel:

I am in love with Fitz.