Begin Again

Day thirty-two

"Uh, Simmons... Why are you walking towards me with a pair of scissors clutched menacingly in your hand and a grin on your face? You look like some kind of serial killer or something."

Simmons laughed. "I'm going to give you a haircut, silly!"

"Oh. That's not very exciting."

"Aren't you glad I'm not going to kill you with a pair of scissors? It wouldn't be a nice way to go, that's for sure," Simmons asked. "Now, I need you to sit on this chair. You can manage, right?"

"Yeah," he replied, and eased his body upwards with his arms. He slowly turned around and placed his feet on the carpet before standing up, rather wobbly still, but much more strongly than he had before.

Simmons steadied him while he took a few steps and sat down on the chair, relaxing into the wood. "Well done! So, just a trim?"

"No, I was thinking about maybe layering it and shaping it so that it's longer at the front. Oh, and could you also dye it orange with purple polka dots?" He broke off at Simmons' astounded expression. "Yeah, just a trim."

"Yes sir," she replied genially, and ran her hands through the curls.

Fitz sighed as he felt her hand massage his scalp, closing his eyes. Simmons took her hand from his head and before he could open his eyes bent down and kissed his cheek, unable to keep herself from him. He turned around and captured her lips, caressing her jawline with his hand, before pulling away slightly.

"Now now, let's not get distracted. We can do this later," he said softly, and she nodded, her cheeks flushed.

"Of course."

~*~

He looked a lot better with his hair cut, still boyish but yet irresistibly handsome. She had removed the stubble from his jaw, as he had asked, and now he looked like her old Fitz again. Beautiful and innocent and precious.

They were back on his bed, sitting side by side, their hands clasped together in between their thighs.

"When do we go again?" Fitz asked, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Eight more days. I can't wait."

"Yeah, we'll have a bit more privacy," he said, grinning broadly.

Simmons wiggled her eyebrows. "Hm, suggestive," she said, and he pressed a small kiss to her temple.

She turned her head upwards and her lips brushed his jaw before his hand was cupping her face, gently tipping it upward until his mouth was on hers. Their hands, formerly clasped, were now apart as her fingertips grazed his chest.

They moved in rhythm with one another, and she shuffled across to sit on his lap. A soft moan escaped as he nibbled her bottom lip, and she smiled into the kiss.

The door creaked open and they sprang apart, Simmons tipping sideways and almost off thr bed until her caught her waist. The doctor smiled apologetically as he tapped the screen of one of the many machines. "Sorry lovebirds, just gotta run a check-up on Fitz's vitals."

Simmons giggled and stood up, her face suitably flushed. "I'll leave you guys to it."

You have no idea how hard that was to write. It probably sucked.

isabella_maeve 🚽