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“Why does everyone think we’re dating!” Fitz shouted as he fell onto the couch that he shared with Jemma, tugging off the tinsel-wrapped halo that hung above his head.
Fitz knew she had come behind him before she even spoke, having heard the clicking of her glittery red heels on the hardwood. “Perhaps because we were wearing matching costumes.”
“We always wear matching costumes. Besides, this year we weren’t even completely matching.”
He heard her giggle and he tilted his head back to see her, the base of his skull lying against the ridge of the couch. She had her hands on either side of his head and she was looking down at him, her hazel eyes locking with his blue and a smile tugging up the corners of her lips.
“Why are you laughing?” he asked, a smile of his own dancing on his lips.
“I just think it’s funny that you thought we were being subtle enough to be surprised that people figured it out.”
Fitz’s brows drew together and he scoffed, turning around on the couch so that he was looking at her right side up. “We were being subtle.”
“I hate to break it to you Fitz but you were walking around with my red lipstick on your neck for the last half of the night.”
Fitz’s hand flew up to his neck, causing Jemma to let out another little melodic bit of giggling that had him blushing.
“And you didn’t say anything! Jemma, you sneaky devil. Well, that explains Liamson’s comment on me being a fallen angel. I knew there was something teasing about her remark.”
“Oh, Fitz.”
Tucking her finger under his chin, Jemma leaned down to capture Fitz’s lips with hers.
“You sweet, sweet angel.”