Work Text:
Spring
She meets him in the springtime, when the flowers are blooming and rain comes as suddenly as a gust of wind.
She was working late one afternoon, trying to sort through the new arrivals in fiction and mystery, when he stumbled into her bookshop.
He was soaked through, mumbling under his breath as he shook his hair like a dog and tried desperately to push his matted curls out of his face. Though she was too far away to hear what exactly he was muttering to himself under his breath, she could tell it was not good from the thunderous expression on his face.
Judging by the fact that she had also never seen him before, and new arrivals in their small town always found their way to her bookstore one way or another, she supposed he was new there. Also, the lack of an umbrella. Everyone knew to carry one in the Spring lest they suffer the same fate as the man currently trying to wring out his jumper in the front of her store.
Digging around under her desk, she located the spare towel that she had brought for her summer book display and approached the man.
As she walked towards him, her best “nice to meet you!” smile firmly in place, she could finally pick up bits of what he was saying.
“...goddamn rain, bloody hell. It’s a damn good thing I don’t have a cloth bag or God knows all of my papers would be ruined. I can already hear my Mum now “Now Leo, this is what you get for forgetting your umbrella-”
“Hello sir,” Jemma said, interrupting his ranting as she smiled up at him.
The man stuttered to a stop, turning to look at her in surprise and for the first time in ages, Jemma Simmons felt her words lodge in her throat. While she had been surprised enough to hear another British voice this far from home (Well, Scottish but it was close enough), the depth of the blue eyes that met hers was enough to scramble her mind for a few seconds.
She was so busy studying the darker ring of blue around his pupil, in fact, that she almost missed him talking.
“Um hi. Sorry about dripping all over your carpet, I um left my umbrella at home today and I could have sworn there was only a 10% chance of rain.”
Jemma laughed lightly, forcing her focus back to the matter at hand and extended her hand with the towel towards him.
“Yes well, I’m afraid spring likes to defy the weather casters whenever it can around here. But anyways, here, have this.”
The man blinked down at the towel in confusion for a few seconds before accepting it and she watched as he began to pat himself down.
“Sorry Ms.-?”
“Jemma, Jemma Simmons.”
“Right, Sorry Ms. Simmons, but why do you have a towel?”
“Please, just call me Jemma and if you must know, I was planning to use it for a display later in the month but it seems like I’ll have to wash it beforehand.”
His blue eyes widened and he looked down at the now wet towel in his hand before he turned to her with a pleading expression.
“I’m so sorry! I had no idea that this was for a display.”
Jemma laughed at his stricken expression and patted him on the arm lightly, “It’s no problem Mr.-?”
“Leo Fitz, just Fitz please.”
“Well, Fitz, it’s no problem. The display doesn’t go up for a couple of weeks anyway, I just bought it from home to make sure I had it.”
Looking slightly less guilty now that he was assured he hadn’t just ruined her plans to try and draw in new summer readers, he took the towel and ruffled it against his hair. When he drew it again, Jemma had to stifle a giggle behind her hand at how fuzzy it had made it.
With a quick glance through the windows at the front of the store, she confirmed it was still pouring buckets.
“Why don’t you come back into the shop and I’ll make you a cup of tea? That way, you can wait out the rain.”
Fitz blinked in surprise at her, a trickle of water running down past his nose before he nodded.
“That sounds… lovely thank you.”
“It’s no trouble, it’s a slow day today and it would be nice to talk to someone who actually understands the values of a good cup of tea.”
At that, Fitz nodded sagely before following her back to her desk.
“You’ve got that right. None of these Americans understand that tea is so much more than just some dead leaves in a cup of lukewarm water.”
He settled into the spare chair she had pulled up as he kept talking and she filled the kettle. He accepted his cup gratefully, closing his eyes as he inhaled the scent before taking a short sip and signing.
“Best cup I’ve had since I moved to this country.”
Jemma smiled as she sipped from her own cup and sat down across from him.
“What brought you here anyway? You seem to be new in town.”
“Ah,” he sat his cup down and she watched as he attempted to smooth his drying curls down (the attempt was entirely unsuccessful as they didn’t seem to move) “I was hired this semester at the local Uni.”
“Oh!” Jemma exclaimed, leaning forwards in interest, “What do you teach?”
“Aerodynamics courses but I’m really there for research.”
“What are you working on now?”
Suddenly, Fitz shrank back a little, almost as if he had become aware of what he was doing.
“Sorry, I’m probably boring you with all this talk.” he said, eyes on the hem of his still wet jumper.
“Not at all! I’ve always loved learning about new things, it’s part of the reason I choose to open up a bookstore. Now, I can read all the books I want and no one can stop me.”
“Well, currently, I’m working on these little drones, there are seven of them and I think that…”
They ended up talking until long past when Jemma would normally close the shop, the two of them so immersed in conversation that they both forgot to check the time. When they eventually made their way out into the street outside, the rain had stopped and several stars were just starting to peek out from behind the lingering clouds.
Fitz insisted on washing the towel that he had used, since he was the one who had made it unusable for the display, and Jemma relented after he turned his wide, pleading blue eyes on her.
She watched as he walked away, smiling when he turned around to look at her, already anticipating when he would return.
Summer
They become friends in the Summertime when the heat hung low and heavy over the streets and the cicadas sang incessantly in their trees.
Fitz came by her shop every weekend and, increasingly, every afternoon he had off from work.
The two of them sat huddled together at her desk, talking endlessly about anything and everything under the sun. Their words slipping around and through each other, filling all the spaces in between and made a warmth grow in Jemma’s chest.
Her regulars quickly became familiar with the sight of Fitz in his normal spot and almost all of them greeted him by name along with Jemma when they came in. It wasn’t long before the nickname “Fitzsimmons” replaced both of their names in the greeting and Jemma found it endlessly amusing when they both responded to it at the same time.
For his part, Fitz took it all in stride. Though he read a great many scientific journals and books, he told her, he didn’t normally have time for pleasure reads and thus Jemma took it upon herself to introduce him to all of the fantastic worlds that her books held. Since this meant that she showed him around the store all the time to seek out new books, Fitz quickly memorized the layout and organization system and they spent a lot of their Saturday’s shelving new arrivals together as they talked to each other from across the store.
Fitz told her about how he missed Scotland, how his Mum still called him every week to make sure he was eating enough, how his students couldn't seem to understand his accent sometimes though he’s quite sure he spoke slowly and clearly enough for even toddlers to understand.
Jemma told him about how she missed England, how she ended up in this small town with a bookstore and the flat above it that belonged to her cousin, and how she couldn’t bring herself to leave.
“It’s the only bookstore in town, expect for the one in the Uni, and Laura loved it so. I couldn’t just abandon it, it would be a disservice to her.”
Fitz nodded from where he was sitting, perched on her desk as he waited for the kettle to boil. It struck her in that moment how natural it was to have Fitz in her space. He had somehow slotted his way completely into her life in just a few short months and she was both unsure of exactly how that happened and completely unconcerned.
She had been quite lonely in this town and having a constant companion and friend had changed her life so drastically for the better and she was so incredibly thankful for Fitz that she could hardly put it into words.
“I think you’ve done a wonderful job with it,” Fitz replied, pouring her a cup of tea exactly how she liked it, “Your cousin would be proud.”
Jemma smiled, accepting the tea, and looked up at him.
“Fitz,”
“Hmm?”
“I think you might be my best friend.”
He choked on his tea then, erupting into a violent coughing fit that had Jemma rubbing his back as he worked through it, her brow creased in worry.
“Are you alright?” she asked, once his breathing had evened out a bit
“Yeah, sorry,” he manages, his voice rough from the coughing and Jemma fetched him a glass of water to smooth it.
“You’re mine, too,” he said, once he took a sip from the water.
“What?”
“Best friend. You’re my best friend as well,” he offered her a shy smile and quickly averted his eyes but Jemma’s heart swelled regardless.
She leaned forwards, going on instinct, and kissed him on the cheek.
Fitz’s eyes were wide when she pulled away and she smiled.
“I’m glad the feeling is mutual.”
Fall
It is Fall when she realizes she loves him.
She has always loved him, of course, or at least from the moment they became friends. But this love, the love she learns about on a frosty fall night, was far different to the love that she felt before.
She’d been just closing up for the day, gathering her belongings and locking the shop, when her phone lit up with an unfamiliar number.
“Hello?” she asked as she picked it up, distracted by the stack of books she was trying to maneuver onto a nearby shelf, half expecting it to be some telemarketer or another.
“Is this Jemma Simmons?”
“Yes,” she’d almost got it, her phone crushed between her ear and shoulder and the books just leaning on the shelf.
“You’ve been listed as the emergency contact number for Leopold Fitz. Mr. Fitz has been involved in a car accident and has been hospitalized at-”
Jemma let go of the books, grabbing the phone as panic threatened to overwhelm her.
“Is he alright? Is Fitz okay?”
“The doctors are with him now, Ma’am. They’ll know more soon.”
“I’m on my way.” she said, as she scrambled out of the door, grabbing her purse and almost forgetting to lock up behind her on the way out.
She didn't really remember her trip to the hospital, or finding the waiting room, but she waited there as the worst case scenarios flew through her head with increasing speed and the phrase “Don’t let him die. Don’t let him die” swirled around in her head like a prayer.
“Jemma Simmons?”
Her head snapped up at the sound of her name and she was met by a kind faced doctor in blue scrubs.
“Yes, that’s me. How is he?”
“We’ve managed to stabilize Leopold, his body went through some pretty nasty shock from the impact of his car to the surface of the water and the temperature of the water. However, he seems to be recovering now and we’re hopeful he’ll wake in a few hours.”
Jemma almost crumbled in at his words. Her relief was so potent it left her breathless.
“He’s very lucky, had he not been wearing his seatbelt he could have been ejected from the car through the windshield.”
Jemma nodded, still a bit lost for words as she struggled to process everything.
“Would you like to be there when he wakes up?” The doctor asked, as he smiled kindly at her.
“Yes, yes please.” she hopped to her feet and followed him through the doors into the intensive care unit.
They passed several rooms, all with their doors shut, before they came to one with an open door. The doctor directed her through the curtain and then left, shutting the door behind him.
Jemma took a deep, steadying breath, her body still running on a slight adrenaline high, before she moved the curtain aside and fully stepping into the room.
She was instantly glad she took that breath as the sight of Fitz fully registered to her.
He was laying in bed, covered in blankets, wires, and tubes. His skin, the little she could see of it on his face, was deathly pale. Another thing that hit her was the unnatural stillness of his body. Fitz was never still. His body almost always in constant motion. Whether he was fiddling with something in his hands or jiggling his knee, she couldn’t recall a single moment when he was this still.
She approached him slowly, before reaching out and placing a hand on his cheek.
He was cold, and that was possibly what scared her the most.
“Fitz,” she whispered, “Fitz, please wake up.”
Fitz didn’t react to her plea, clearly still under the effects of sedation, but she still felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes at his silence.
She sat down heavily in the chair beside him, her hands finding one of his under the blankets and holding onto it.
“Fitz, I know you can’t hear me right now, but I need you to wake up.” she leant her head forwards, resting it against his side, “Please.”
When she had first received the phone call from the hospital, all that she could think about was how it was unfair that the universe had done this to them so soon after their meeting. The last few months with Fitz had been the happiest she could remember and the idea of losing him shook her to the core.
The thought that she might never hear his voice again, that she might never get to watch him read, curled up in his chair with sunlight painting his curls gold, was too much to bare and she let out a slight sob into the coarse hospital blanket.
“Please Fitz, I can’t bare it without you, please.”
Sometime later, she was awoken from dozing by a soft hand stroking through her hair.
Jemma’s head whipped up, her body instantly alert and aware and she was met by Fitz’s half-open eyes before her.
“Hey,” he said, weakly, and she let out a sob before throwing her arms around his neck.
“Fitz, Fitz .”
She felt one of his arms come up and wrap around her shoulders, his thumb sweeping across her back in a gesture that was incredibly comforting, and she buried her head further into his neck.
“Shhh, it’s okay. Everything’s okay.” he murmured into her hair, and his words made her pull back to see his face.
“Okay? How is this okay! You almost died, Fitz! You went off the road into a lake and you almost died!”
He gave her a half shrug, “Yeah, but I didn’t and I’m okay.”
“I would hardly call this,” she said, sweeping her arm around the room, “Okay.”
“It isn’t the best… but hey, I’ve still got all my fingers.” he said, holding his hand up for her inspection.
Jemma choked on a laugh, half born of disbelief, and rested her head back against his neck.
“You almost died, Fitz.”
“I know,” he said.
His thumb stilled against her back where it had been stroking soothingly, and she felt him tighten his arm around her. He didn’t say anything but she could feel his hand shaking slightly against her back and she closed her eyes.
In the days following his accident, Jemma visited him everyday and drove him home from the hospital when he was discharged. Even though he claimed that he was fine, the doctors warned her that his stamina would have been greatly reduced for some time and so she took over doing as much for him as she could.
He whined that she was worse than his Mum but she saw the way his eyes lit up whenever she placed his food before him so she doesn’t think he minded that much.
It isn’t until one night, a week after the accident, that she woke up to find herself curled into his shoulder.
It had become her habit to stop by after work each day to make him dinner and then the two of them would watch a movie or play a game until Fitz got too tired and she left for the evening. That night, they had been marathoning the new Who episodes, sitting side by side on the couch and the last thing Jemma remembered was feeling sleepy before she found someplace warm to lay her head and went promptly to sleep.
That warmth, it turned out, was Fitz’s body heat and she was currently resting against him, in a slight hollow between his chest and neck. Fitz it seemed, was also asleep. His breathing slow and heavy and his head resting on hers.
Though they had hugged in the past, this was possibly the closest Jemma had ever been to him for an extended period of time, and she found herself burrowing into him instead of moving away as she supposed she should.
Ever since the accident, she had been strictly ignoring the new thoughts that had been popping into her head. Impulses and desires, specifically directed at Fitz, that she had never had before. It was almost like the trauma of almost losing him had broken some sort of dam in her head and, all of a sudden, she was viewing her best friend in a very different way.
She hadn’t dared put a name to it, too scared to admit it even to herself, but she knew exactly what it is.
Now, curled up against him, his scent surrounding and warmth surrounding her, she allowed herself to finally admit that she might be the smallest bit in love with him.
The revelation both surprised her and didn't at the same time. She had always found Fitz to be quite handsome, his face was very symmetrical after all, but it was more than that as well. It was the way their minds worked so completely in tandem. She had never met another person on Earth whom she got along with more and it was an intoxicating feeling.
Not to mention, his very presence in her space made her happy. They could both be reading in complete silence and she could feel completely happy. While at first, she had thought that this was simply how one felt about their best friend, she had slowly come to realize that it was much more than that.
She loved Fitz. She loved him in every way and she wanted him in every way. As soon as she accepted it, the feeling settled in her chest and she nuzzled closer to him, unthinkingly.
It wasn’t until he let out a small, sleepy snuffle, that she became aware of the situation.
Fitz had not dropped any hints that he viewed her as more than a friend and she had no reason to believe her feelings were returned. In fact, her feelings could very easily drive a wedge between them and, after the events of last week, she had no desire to do that whatsoever.
Her friendship with Fitz was far too important to risk on a gamble and so she forced herself to slowly exact herself from Fitz’s embrace. She leaned him down on the sofa and switched off the TV where it was playing the DVD menu on loop.
“Jemma?” Fitz asked sleepily, making her heart skip a beat at how soft and vulnerable his tone was.
“Shhh,” she hushed him, pulling the afghan on the back of the sofa over him, “It’s me, Fitz. I’m just leaving”
He sighed softly, still half asleep and burrowed into his couch.
“Okay, good night, Jemma.”
“Goodnight, Fitz,” she whispered, her heart in her throat as she closed the door softly behind her, her feelings for him threatening to overwhelm her.
Winter
Winter is when everything changed.
In the weeks following the accident, Jemma tried to keep a cap on her feelings. Fitz was progressing well in his recovery and he was finally feeling good enough to return to teaching and to visit her in her store again.
He seemed to be in good spirits (or as good of spirits as he ever was with the grumpy front he put up) and she didn't want to distract him.
Not to mention, she was scared that if she said anything, it would scare him off. He made no indication that his near brush with death had alerted him to any surprise romantic feelings, as it had to her, and so she did her best to act the same to him as she had before.
It mostly worked but she couldn't help it if she caught herself staring at him more often or if she found herself coming up with excuses to touch him from time to time. She would often brush her hand over his shoulder or grab onto his forearm when he made her laugh and, once or twice, she could have sworn she saw him looking at her strangely as she let him go.
Even though she really was trying not to flirt with him or to let her own feelings advance, it was almost impossible to stop and she felt her affection only grow for him with each passing day.
About a week before Christmas, she was shelving some returns on a shelf in the back of her store when she heard the bell above the door jingle and Fitz’s voice as he greeted one of their regulars.
“Fitz! It's good to see you back here again!”
“It's good to be back. Being stuck in my flat was incredibly boring.”
“I can see that. I bet Jemma’s glad to see you back. She lost quite a bit of her spark with you gone.”
Jemma felt her cheeks start to heat up and she edged forwards slightly. She tipped her head around the corner and could just make out Fitz’s back from where she was standing.
She watched as his shoulders tensed slightly as he spoke, “Yeah, well. It was hard on us both.”
“Yeah but Jemma was really broken up about it. Do you know she's never missed a day of work until that happened? It was shocking to see. And then when she got back, she just looked so sad. But I guess that’s what happens when your boyfriend nearly dies.”
Fitz’s shoulders now tensed visually and he shoved his hands into his pockets. “We’re um, not dating. Just friends.”
“Oh, I just assumed with how close you too are.”
“That doesn't mean we have to be dating! Why can't two people of the opposite gender be friends without people making it out to be more than it is?” By the end of his sentence, he was nearly shouting and Jemma felt herself shrink back into the shadows of the bookshelf.
“Sorry, shouldn't have assumed.”
“No, you shouldn't have.” She heard Fitz answer before he walked away further into the store.
For the rest of the day, Jemma avoided Fitz. Finding reasons to be on the opposite side of the store and only giving one word answers to the questions and comments he made to her. She knew that she was being slightly childish, it wasn't his fault after all that he felt nothing for her, but his comments stung nonetheless.
Fitz was obviously confused by her evasion of him and, when she was closing up for the day, he moved up beside her hesitantly.
“Jemma?”
“Yes?” She asked, plastering on a fake smile.
“Is um, is something wrong?”
There was something very wrong but she couldn't really tell him about the real reason she was acting strangely and so she avoided his eyes as she said, “I've been feeling kind of under the weather today, if I'm honest. I'm thinking I might take the weekend off, catch up on my reading and all that.”
“Oh. I could join you, if you'd like? I'll bring some take out?” His tone was so hopeful that her heart ached to say yes. But, seeing as her heart was already aching from his comments earlier, she couldn't really do that.
“I'd rather be alone. Don't want you to catch whatever I have.”
Fitz was silent for so long that she finally looked up at him. He was staring at her in confusion, his deep blue eyes swimming with hurt.
“Okay. Well, if you change your mind….”
“Yeah, see you later, Fitz.” She said, quickly walking to the door and opening it for him.
Fitz stared at her as he walked out and she did her best to ignore the questions in his gaze as she shut and locked the door behind him.
True to her word, she did spend the whole weekend in her flat but she hardly read. She was far too distracted between worrying about her friendship with Fitz and trying not to think about him.
He tried texting her a couple of times but after she didn’t answer any of them, he went silent as well.
Monday rolled around without any sort of resolution on Jemma’s end and she found herself dreading Fitz’s arrival at her store that afternoon.
More than anything, she knew that he knew that she had lied to him on Friday and she was worried that he would call her out on it, causing her to have to explain the real reason she was avoiding him.
However, as the normal time he showed up neared, the store remained empty.
In fact, for the next three days, she saw nothing of Fitz.
It was quite ironic, she thought as she locked up on Christmas Eve, that in trying to keep their relationship the same, she might have ruined it.
She got ready for bed without really thinking about it, ready to go to sleep to escape the ache in her heart, when she heard a small tap at her window.
Turning around, she stumbled back in shock at the sight of a tiny drone hovering outside her window holding what looked to be a small package in between two small pincers.
She blinked in surprise before hurrying over to the window and opening it for the small robot.
It flew in, hovering a few feet inside and she carefully extracted the present from it before looking out her window, expecting to see Fitz in the small alley behind her shop. Seeing nothing, however, she turned back to her room and sat on the bed.
A folded up note was stuck to the top of the drone and she unfolded it to find Fitz’s familiar hand writing staring at her from the page.
Jemma,
This is Happy, one of the drones I've been working on, and he's here to wish you a Happy Christmas.
Yours,
Fitz
Jemma rolled her eyes at the horrible pun before opening up the small box in her lap.
Rifling through the tissue paper, she extracted a small cloth bag and let the small object inside slide out onto her hand.
She gasped when she saw it. It was a small, gold star pendant, studded with little gemstones, and hanging from a delicate chain.
She ran her fingers over it and noticed another note tucked away under the bag.
As she picked it up it up, she saw just two short lines printed on it.
P.S.
I'm sorry.
Before she could even think, she was tugging on her coat and running out of the door, the necklace clutched in her hand.
She burst out of the back door just in time to see Happy exit her room and make its way down the alleyway to the left.
Chasing after it, she rounded the corner to see Fitz standing there with his tablet in hand. He caught Happy as she skirted to a stop and the two of them stared at each other in silence for a second before Jemma thrust out her hand with the necklace in it.
“It's beautiful,” she said, “thank you.”
“I'm glad you like it,” Fitz said, not meeting her eyes as he tucked Happy and the tablet away into his bag.
“You didn't have to get me anything…”
“It's okay, I wanted to. It's what best friends do.”
Jemma let out a dry laugh that almost sounded like a sob, “Well I'm afraid that I’m a pretty awful best friend because I've not only gotten you nothing, but I've been avoiding you for a week.”
“No!” He said sharply, causing her to blink in shock. “No, you're the best friend I could have asked for.” He finished softly, dropping his eyes to his feet. “I just wish I knew what I'd done to make you angry at me.”
“Oh, Fitz. I wasn't angry at you. I've just been…. dealing with some stuff lately.”
Fitz’s brow furled in confusion, “Why haven't you talked to me about it? I could help you.”
“Well, it involves you so…”
“But you said I hadn't made you mad?”
“You haven't,” she assured him, “I'm not mad at you.”
“Jemma, please just tell me what's bothering you. I only want to help.”
She sighed, feeling her resolve break as he turned his pleading blue eyes on her.
“I’m scared of what you’ll think.” She said softly.
“Jemma,” he walked up to her and cupped her hands in his, “Whatever it is, we’ll work through it. Like we always do. Together.”
He smiled encouragingly at her, and she felt tears prick in the corners of her eyes at the sight, not realizing until just then at how much she had missed seeing his smile.
“Well… I seem to have fallen in love with you.”
Fitz froze before her, making her panic and try to placate him instantly, “But I heard you talking to Rob earlier this week and I know you don't feel anything past friendship for me and that's fine honestly. I just need some time to get over it and humpf!”
She was cut off by Fitz pulling her in close and pressing his lips to hers. At first, she was too stunned to do anything and it wasn't until she felt his arm snaking around her waist that she caught up enough to kiss him back.
As she began responding to him, her hands coming up to frame his face as she slid her lips along his, she felt a groan rumble through his chest and the sound set her on fire.
Angling his mouth open with hers, she finally allowed herself to feel all of the desire for him that she had been suppressing and she all but melted into him as he responded in kind.
Finally, however, she had to draw away to breath but she didn't let him get far. Instead, she rested her forehead against his and watched as their breath mingled in the air around them as their chests heaved in unison.
“As it turns out, I've fallen in love with you as well.” Fitz whispered, one of his hands tucked a lock of Jemma’s hair behind her ears “So, it seems that it's not really a problem?”
He said the last sentence as a question causing her to laugh and press back in for more light kisses before saying, “Nope, not a problem at all.”
“And it gets rid of the other problem.”
Jemma tilted her head in confusion.
“It doesn't matter that you got me nothing for Christmas. Because all I want is you,” he said with a smug grin.
Jemma burst out laughing and pulled him down to kiss her, his smile pressed up against hers as she lost herself in kissing him.
The next morning, wrapped up in Jemma’s sheets and duvet, Fitz confessed that Winter might be his favorite season.
“Perfect weather for cuddling,” he said as he ran his fingers up and down her back. “And that's very important to me.”
Jemma laughed, lifting her head up from his chest to better meet his eyes.
“I prefer Spring, myself.” She confessed, her fingers trailing across his jaw and she watched the way his eyes stared into hers, full of love enough to make butterflies take flight in her stomach.
“Why’s that?”
“Because it brought me you, of course.”
Fitz’s smile was blinding as he tackled her back into bed, his lips capturing hers as he did.
As she pulled him more firmly down on top of her, relishing the press of his skin on hers, she couldn't help but allow the perfection of the moment to wash over her.
A day ago, she had almost resigned herself to a life without him. Now, however, she had never felt more happy and whole.
It didn't matter what the seasons brought anyway. She had Fitz by her side and that was all she needed.
