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The best night of my life started as mundane as anything else, it was a Tuesday in the middle of December. The halls were relatively quiet because most of the tenants, a surprising number of college kids, were either studying for upcoming exams or already gone for the respective winter break. The building always got eerily calm around the holidays, and who am I to complain. Like them, I needed to study for exams and maintain a healthy cycle of sleep and activity to optimize my marks. What better way to do that than in relative peace? If only my neighbor had the same idea. What started out as a simple noise complaint turned into one too many, then the unexpected happened.
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“Good night Fitz, I’ll see you tomorrow for a glance at the biomaterials review, yeah?”
“Course Jemma. Try and get some sleep, yeah. You always go overboard in revisions.”
“Quit worrying about me, I’m not the one who managed to set a flat on fire making tea because of sleep deprivation.” I retorted teasingly, getting a very nasty eye roll from the man standing in my door.
“Yeah, yeah. G’night.” he says, turning and making his way to the elevator.
After Fitz had left and I had completed my nightly routine clear up to changing into nucleotide print pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, I heard it. It was quiet at first, like the whisper of the vents, followed by a very loud expletive and raucous laughter. I shook my head, of course there were still college students mulling around, it only being midnight or so. I was really hoping to get a fitful rest, but I may as well squeeze in some light reading before bed since the neighbors aren’t settling down just yet. I grabbed my copy of The Martian and slid under the blanket. Then came the rhythmic knocking, followed by a high pitched squeal and laughter, then what sounded through the wall like glass shattering. This became a pattern, every few minutes there was an outburst, then silence, then the cycle repeated.
At 1:30 in the morning I had reached my limit. I grabbed my keys and stomped down the hall to 616 to confront the guilty party about disturbing my sleep cycle. As I approached the door to knock a young man came stumbling out hanging off of a young woman, both looked fairly inebriated and had smiles plastered on their faces whilst giggling like children. Another young woman stepped into the hall to wave to her friends, her smile was as intoxicating as they come.
Time seemed to stop when she noticed me standing behind her. Her smile fell, her smiling eyes instantly filled with guilt, and she pulled her bottom lip into her mouth. The quickness of her change in emotions almost made me turn around and forget that I came to confront her, but my resolve stayed and I readied myself to speak. She beat me to the punch.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot that grad students live in this complex too. I swear had I remembered Lance and Bobbi would’ve left hours ago,” she said, the words running together both in nervous energy and I’m assuming slight intoxication. “We were just trying out this new game and then it turned into a Smash Bros. match and that got out of hand and… I’m rambling, I’m so sorry.”
Her last few words tapered off and were barely audible. I looked past her into her flat, only just noticing the boxes littering the floor and the sparse furniture.
“Did you just move in?” I blurted before I could stop myself.
She just silently nodded, probably still guilty and expecting a reprimand or something of the like. I couldn’t help but take another look at her. She was gorgeous, olive skinned, lean but definitely strong. Her eyes were deep brown, almost black and even though she was no longer smiling they were bright and full of life. Her cheeks were rosy from the alcohol and the embarrassment of the situation, but I could tell that they normally complemented her face well. I felt my pulse quicken and a smile worm its way onto my face. I knew what was about to happen, and yet my brain was most certainly not in control.
“Why didn’t you say so, it would have been a pleasure to welcome you to the building sooner and under better circumstances. I’m Jemma Simmons, but most people just bother with the last name. I’m sure that we’ll be great friends, now that we’ve met other.”
“I’m Daisy. Johnson, uh, it’s a pleasure to meet you. You wouldn’t happen to want to stay a while.” My smile must have been infectious because her face turned almost instantly from worry to bashful comfort. Her invitation was certainly as appealing as she was in the loose Avengers t-shirt and running shorts that left very little to be imagined, but it got better as she added, “I have beer.”
She stepped back into the flat, leaving the door open as a continuation of the invitation. I followed her inside to the sparse area, noting the take out boxes and plastic cutlery lying about. The walls were bare, but she had brought in a stuffed couch and a coffee table, as well as a large flat screen television. Daisy disappeared into the kitchen, presumably to gather some beers and snacks.
“Make yourself at home, it’s not a whole lot but soon this apartment will be decked out,” I heard her call, which was followed by a muffled thump and a shocked curse word. I turned toward the kitchen area just as Daisy returned holding two beers in one hand with her other rubbing the back of her head.
“Are you alright?” I asked. She looked at me and laughed, spouting some nonsense about a hard head and the refrigerator losing. It was hard to make out as she was giggling too hard to speak clearly. I couldn’t help but join in, standing to grab one of the beers from her outstretched hand. I twisted off the top and raised the bottle up, she mimicked the motion, then took a long sip.
We sat in comfortable silence like that for a while. I had long since discarded the notion that studying was more important, especially for an exam that was four days away. The ease with which Daisy had dropped my need to study surprised even myself. It must have been her eyes, the way they had filled with hope when I had introduced myself instead of confronting her about the noise. Her eyes that pulled my attention, no matter what I was trying to focus on. Through the night I found my focus drifting more toward her lips than her eyes, and whether that was the alcohol or not, I couldn’t answer. The oddest feeling came over me when she would notice and blush, but not turn away or hide it. One such occasion being after we had both finished our third beer.
“Jemma, has anyone ever told you that your first name is too pretty to not use all the time. Like, why would you go by Simmons if you have a name that is as pretty as you are?”
“I’m not sure that has anything to do with it. I don’t choose what people call me, nor did I have any choice in the name given to me.”
“What’s stopping you? I changed mine from that awful name the nuns gave me in the orphanage, then again when I found my real dad. You can do whatever you put your mind to, Jemma, no one can say no to you.”
During her speech she had moved closer to me, and I could count the eyelashes around her eyes. Her pupils were rather large, though there was alcohol and it was dim in her living area. My heart was hammering, as though pounding a message to my brain, “kiss her, just bloody kiss her already,” and so I listened. I closed the gap between us quickly, allowing my lips to cover hers briefly before pulling back. Her eyes were closed and I longed more than anything to know what she was thinking. She was still, as though a statue for a moment and my senses returned instantly.
I gathered myself and stood to leave the flat, my face as red as physically possible. I’m not sure what inspired me that kissing my neighbor, that I had met barely hours earlier may I add, was a good idea. It was as I stood up that I noticed that Daisy was looking up at me, a smirk in place of a smile and a sparkle in her dark eyes that gave me chills. I felt her hand wrap around my wrist followed by a tug that put me back on the couch. Daisy positioned herself in my lap and our eyes met, hers a smoldering challenge, mine probably wide with surprise.
We stayed that way for what felt like hours before either of us moved. It was her that eventually did what both of us wanted, and it was as though the universe was being created over and over again in my mind as our lips crashed together. I felt, more than heard her sigh, one that I’m sure I echoed as her hand found my cheek then slid into my hair. Time stopped, then sped up as we pulled away for air before meeting again, lips sliding almost lazily against each other. It was the most comfortable I had ever been with a person, shockingly enough a complete stranger, but it was a welcome strangeness. We parted for the last time with great reluctance.
“I’d ask you to stay, but I know what will happen and I’m just not that type of girl, Ms. Simmons,” Daisy drawled in a mocking attempt at a southern accent, “but you are more than welcome to come back tomorrow when I am sober and will remember what happens.” I smiled and headed toward the door with Daisy on my heels.
As I reached for the handle she grabbed my waist and spun me to face her, planting a quick peck on my lips as a parting gift. I strode out of the flat and into the corridor without a care in the world. I went to bed and fell asleep to the kiss over and over.
The next morning I heard Fitz let himself in as I was fixing toast for a late breakfast, him mumbling something about a strange floor or something.
“What’s wrong Fitz?”
“One of your cheeky neighbors left a note on your door. Something about a wonderful night with a wonderful name. Mean anything to you?”
I only smiled and shrugged which satisfied his curiosity. We had too much work to do to spend the afternoon mulling over the previous night’s events.