Hi guys! Hope you're all doing good :) I've been working on this fic for well over a month, and it's FINALLY finished, so I hope you enjoy it!
Also, good chapter soundtrack is 'Iris' by the Goo Goo Dolls. One of my favorites :)
She awoke to the annoying pulse of her alarm, cheering her up and out of the note-covered bed.
Jemma groaned and reached a lazy arm out to snag on the off button successfully. Only when the room had once more descended into complete, blissful silence did her caramel mop of hair pop out from the comforter.
Her eyes blinked away whatever traces of sleep remained – only to have her minor OCD kick in at the sight of notes and study papers thickly layering her mattress.
Unfortunately, the world was still coated in the light brown that it always was.
It was one of the disadvantages of the world she lived in – everyone was colorblind. Not entirely, every person just saw the world in the shade of their own eyes. No one was able to see anything other than that color until the day they met their soul mate.
Sometimes that day came as early as age four for some people, and other cases could be late into their forties. Either way, there was only one sure way to know whom it was.
At first touch, the female of the pair would have their male counterpart's name inked in their skin in the color of his eyes. It was like a tattoo, something of a permanent and constant reminder that there was no one else in the universe for them.
Jemma hadn't met her soul mate yet, and she wasn't anticipating the day she did. She was an independent young woman whom needed no one to get by. Although her traitorous mind always whispered that wasn't the case at all, and thought of how beautiful the world must be in color. Especially the color blue.
She sighed, grabbing as many notes as was within her reach and stacking them on the night table before completely rolling out of bed. Her sleep-dazed form stumbled around and collected whatever others remained before she dragged herself for her morning cup of tea.
The difference was instantaneous.
Immediately, Jemma was back into the prim, orderly protege that everyone else saw. Excelling in seemingly everything she touched and never with a single item out of her neatly categorized mind.
Her clothes were already assembled down to the last bobby pin, as per usual, and only a half hour later her daily morning ritual was nearing its end.
It was all moving along perfectly.
Until she stepped out the door.
Immediately, her painstakingly organized notes went one way and she the other as she crashed into a passerby. Jemma let out a small yelp, landing on something soft and warm as her tea mug sloshed onto her freshly pressed blouse.
It took her a small collection of seconds, but when she caught her bearings, it was with the up-most level of hate and disgust.
"Fitz!" she hissed out, eyebrows knit in anger. "Of course, out of all the people in the world I would run into you –"
He simply stared up at her, dumbfounded, with horror in his wide eyes. "I . . . um, ah . . . Simmons-"
His hands danced over her, nervously placing on her waist, then her thighs before falling on either side of his head. "Um, before you rip my bloody head to shreds, could you get off? I think we're drawing an audience . . ."
Jemma's head jerked up, realizing that they were, in fact, gaining a crowd. A few had their hands over the mouths, suppressing laughter and one had even gone so far as to pull out their phone to take a few pictures.
With another jolt of horror, she realized that she was straddling his waist.
"Bloody hell!" she moaned in embarrassment, jumping up. A flush had already crept its way from her neck to her cheekbones, and Fitz was no better off. Hastily, she collected her papers before dashing back inside her dorm, tears already prickling at her eyes.
Ugh, it just had to be Fitz, didn't it? She sunk to the floor, her back leaning heavily against the door. Outside, she could hear the unrestrained laughter of her fellow students. And then Fitz's Scottish accent, repeating over and over how it was a complete accident. It didn't matter to them, however.
"I knew from the look in your eye the day she first walked in, but I didn't think you'd have the guts, mate!"
That would be Lance Hunter.
"Oh, got the hots for her, darling? What's the matter, blushing like that?"
She could practically hear the smirk in Raina's voice.
"What accent are your kids going to have?"
Skye. Jemma grit her teeth, standing and tossing her papers on the table before cracking her front door open just enough to peek through.
"Skye Johnson!"
The girl turned guiltily to the door, a look of apology plastered on her face. "Simmons, I-"
Jemma simply reached out and pulled her in, shutting and locking the door before cornering the brunette with her glare.
"Really, Daisy?"
"I'm sorry, I just . . . it's obvious, isn't it?" Skye scratched the back of her head before tacking on as an afterthought: "And don't call me that!
"What's obvious?" Jemma put her hands on her hips. "That we both hate each other?"
Skye let out a bark of laughter, which ended abruptly as Jemma sent her another pointed glare.
"Okay, okay. Sheesh." Skye rolled her eyes.
Jemma started tapping her foot impatiently. "Please, get to the point,"
"He likes you!"
There was dead silence.
Until Jemma burst out laughing. "Oh, Skye. Do you even hear how ridiculous you sound?" she ducked around the girl, blushing lightly as she made for her bedroom.
"Jemma, I'm telling you, he's totally into -"
"Skye," Jemma said flatly as she turned her doorknob. "I honestly don't care. If he really likes me, then he wouldn't act like a douchebag every time I see him."
Skye rolled her eyes. She may be put off for the moment, but she was definitely continuing the conversation later.
"Fine, be that way,"
Now it was Jemma's turn to roll her eyes. "Thank you. Now just let me change out of this blouse and I'll be right out so we can head to class,"
Skye shrugged and headed towards the couch, pulling out her phone.
Jemma quickly shut the door and grabbed a supposedly white shirt from the closet, wishing yet again that it was something other than the auburn color that coated her vision.
Just as her arms were above her head and she was shrugging off the soiled article, a tightness above her hip bone made her wince.
Must've pulled a muscle in the fall, Jemma thought bitterly, remembering Fitz's face.
Nothing else seemed out of place until she turned back to dresser for the fresh blouse she'd set out. Immediately her eyes were drawn to her waist in the mirror. For a moment she just stared in shock at the fact that there was a new color scribbled on her hip. Blue, she was guessing. Her finger ghosted over the area, a smile beginning to grow on her face. But then she realized what the strange inscription read.
Leo Fitz
And she screamed.
Skye was lazily reclining on the couch, scrolling absently through Facebook. There was nothing remotely interesting, as usual – just people posting paragraphs with way too much information.
Either way, she was in the middle of a yawn when a scream from her best friend's room interrupted her. Immediately, she abandoned her phone and ran for the bedroom.
"Jemma? What's wrong? Are you okay? Do you need me to call an ambulance?" she prattled off questions as she usually did when something unnerved her. When there was no answer, she didn't hesitate to barge right in.
Skye was greeted with the sight of Jemma on the ground, curled in on herself in the fetal position. She was frozen, looking traumatized as she leaned against the dresser. Skye tried not to focus on the fact the girl was only in a pair of trousers and bra, instead opting to kneel at her side.
"Jemma? Please, talk to me! Are you hurt?" she gently shook her, trying to evoke an answer.
At the lack of her reply, everything suddenly came into the light.
"Oh my gosh, you're pregnant, aren't you? I told you Tommy Miller was a backstabbing jerk-"
"Daisy!" Jemma cried, turning on her friend with a mixture of embarrassment and horror. "No, definitely not. Never. We went on one date, and he didn't even walk me in. Why, I can't believe you would even suggest such a thing. Do you really-"
"You're rambling," Skye cut in, leaning in relief against the stand. "That's a good sign." she turned her head a few degrees to make eye contact with her friend. "Now what has you shaking and crying like you've seen a ghost?"
"Nothing," Jemma smiled, starting to reach for the shirt she'd dropped. "Just a . . . ah, a bug. Yes, I saw a bug,"
"Oh my gosh Simmons, you're a terrible liar. What's wrong?"
Jemma sighed, turning on her side and lifting her arms. Skye couldn't understand what she was doing, trying not to be prying with her eyes. Jemma sighed again. "Look,"
So she did.
The second she caught sight of the cramped cursive she burst out into unbridled laughter.
Personally, Jemma thought she had been doing an awful lot of that lately.
But at the moment, what she needed was her friend's support or advice in some way. Not a hyena imitation.
"Skye, please," she pleaded with her. "I need to know what to do. Like, what did you do the first time?"
Skye stopped her laughter for a moment before giggling again quietly. At Jemma's slightly hurt glare, she clarified: "The last time I heard that phrase, a girl was asking me for puberty advice,"
Jemma reddened, nodding. "Okay then."
Skye nudged her with her elbow. "Hey, it's alright. I didn't like Lincoln at first either."
"What?" Jemma met her eyes with a disbelieving glint.
"Yep. I thought he was a complete jerk. He used to pick on some of the younger kids at St. Agnes.'" She rubbed her friend's back, a remembering smile on her face. "Took some of their food. It wasn't until I literally ran into him and got my mark that he told me why."
"Why?"
"There was this hurt old mutt that lived behind the dumpster. He was nursing it back to health. He would give him his portion of food, but it wasn't enough so he got more from the kids." Skye grinned. "We actually had our first kiss over that dang dog."
Jemma snorted, laughing a tiny bit. "How romantic,"
"That was our specialty," Skye giggled like a little kid. After they sobered, she scooted over to give Jemma enough room to pull her shirt over her head. "Now, how do you feel about this?"
She sighed, crossing her legs. "Honestly? Scared senseless," her eyes watered. "I hate him, Skye. Hate him. And yet somehow the universe thinks we're meant to be,"
"Okay," Skye started, getting into her 'advice voice,' as Jemma called it. "I get it. Trust me, I do. But I want you to forget every single thing you've ever categorized in that big brain of yours on Leo Fitz."
"Skye . . ."
"I mean it, Jemma! It's just been one thing another with you two – bad impressions. Leave it all. Move on. For all the lives I've seen, I've never once heard of the universe making a bad call."
Jemma nodded, sniffling a bit. "Okay. I can try. But if it doesn't work out in a week, I'm leaving it."
Skye nodded, pleased. "Okay." she stood up, offering Jemma a hand off the ground. "Now, when I first got my mark," she held open the door as they both headed to the small couch. "one of my friends invited me over for ice cream and cheesy entertainment,"
Jemma smiled at her, wiping one small tear out of her eye. "And that's what we're going to do,"
For the first time in her two years at the academy, Jemma Simmons skipped classes to watch old Disney Channel reruns.
And she didn't mind a bit.
The next morning, Jemma climbed out of bed and into her usual morning routine with a bit of hesitance. However, she couldn't help but run her fingers his mark in the shower. Whether or not it turned out, she was at least going to try to get to know him.
Him.
She wasn't going to say his name. It would only make it worse on her nerves if she kept saying whom it was. Or at least she told herself.
Because Jemma Simmons excels at preparation, she steeled herself as much as she could. This was very easily going to be the hardest day of her life, and she was in no way excited at the prospect.
But there was only one other thing she believed in: science. Perhaps soul mates couldn't be entirely explained, and maybe they were insane at best, but some greater power had set them in place and she knew that regardless of how this turned out, Fitz was and always would be her soul mate.
Now if she could just stop disliking him.
"Hello, Fitz!" Jemma smiled as best as she could.
It was nine in the morning, meaning that chemistry lab was just beginning. She and Fitz were in the same class, though not having to come into contact with each other.
So that might explain the dumb expression on his face when she actually talked to him without telling him to move, or to chasten his work. He just stared up at her, blue eyes slightly glazed, mouth slightly agape.
And that's when she realized it.
Blue.
His eyes are blue.
Jemma gasped lightly at the fact that she was able to see color. She stared into his eyes as if they were the greatest thing she'd ever seen – which, in fact, was the truth.
After a few moments, Fitz fidgeted uncomfortably. It was only then Jemma realized she was staring, and she blushed furiously and turned away.
"I . . . I'm sorry," she stammered, still not able to meet his eyes again. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "So, um, Fitz . . . I was wondering if you'd help me with this project I have,"
His own cheeks blushing like the day before, he stared at her as if not comprehending. "Y-You want me to help you?" Fitz choked out, taken aback. "After yesterday? And the past year and a half?"
"Yes," she smiled what she hoped wasn't a flirtatious smile, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I just . . . I was thinking about us last night. And I realized that we may actually work well together." she looked back over her wording, eyes widening. "Not . . . like, us us . . . like friends and co-workers. I mean, we're both prodigies, right? Young and no one really completely appreciates us . . . and, well-"
Fitz smiled. "I, ah, I think I'd like that,"
Jemma held her own, eyes brightening. "Great," she tilted her head a bit as she looked down again. "perhaps you'd like to meet up tonight?" her eyes flitted up through her lashes, scared to see what his response might be.
She mentally berated herself for seeming so straightforward, scared she could have mucked this all up before anything had even started. Maybe he would think she was trying to trick her. Or maybe he thought she was asking him out . . .
Oh, no . . .
"Not, like a date or anything . . . just . . . friends," she stumbled over herself to add.
Great, Jem. You just made things even more awkward. You're not even friends!
"Yes," Fitz grinned, holding out a hand.
Jemma beamed up at him, clasping his large palm with her small one. "My place? At six? I could make some dinner or get takeout, if you'd like."
"I'll be there," his eyes were sparkling with what she thought was joy.
"Good," she nodded, still smiling. "I think it's about time we bury the hatchet."
He released her slim hand, dipping his own into his trouser pocket. "So do I. I'll see you there, yeah?"
Her heart jumped just a tiny bit at his brogue, and for a moment she wondered if just in those few moments their skin had been touching if their bond had already started to form. She had a sudden impulse to keep her hand intertwined with his.
"Yeah," Jemma bobbed her head just a tiny bit. "Thank you, Fitz,"
"Sure, Simmons,"
"Is Italian too obvious?" Jemma breathed out in a rush, readjusting the phone in the crook of her shoulder as she searched her cupboards.
"Italian?" Skye's voice crackled over the line. "No, that sounds good, actually."
Jemma sighed. "I'll save you leftovers."
She could practically hear Skye's fist pump on the other end. "Thanks, Jem. You're the best."
"Wait, red sauce or white? Or pesto?" she ran a hand through her hair, trying a breathing technique she'd invented back in high school. "Ugh, which is more suited for just friends?"
"You're soul mates," Skye deadpanned.
"Yes, but he doesn't know that small fact!" Jemma groaned, tired of repeating the phrase. "Really, what do you make for the first meal you're going to have with the person you spend the rest of your life with?"
"Oh, you've got it bad, sweetie," she could hear Skye's smirk as she chuckled.
"What do you mean?" Jemma squeaked into the mouthpiece.
"You're already planning out the rest of your life. Or, technically, lives,"
"Skye! I barely know the boy!"
"Mmhmm . . ." she hummed knowingly. "Just text me how it goes."
Jemma sighed, sanding from her crouching position of checking the bottom drawers. "You know I will,"
"I know. Bye, Jemma,"
"Bye," she breathed out nervously, butterflies leaping in her stomach. Just before she could click off the line, Skye's voice filtered through again.
"Oh, and pesto sounds just great,"
And then the line truly went dead in pure Skye fashion.
For the first time since he'd moved into the Academy, Leo Fitz was early.
He had spent a full half-hour talking to Bobbi over the phone on what to wear. Eventually they had agreed upon jeans and his nice button-up, for once forgoing the tie.
And on top of that, he still had well over an hour to wait til she had asked to meet him.
So he'd willingly called up his mum and spent twenty minutes going over how the girl he liked had asked him on a study 'date,' and she gave him advice on how to act. But what Fitz couldn't bring himself to tell her was how he had embarrassed himself multiple times in front of her, and embarrassed her as well.
After that he took to nervous pacing until Lance stopped over, saying he had heard the news. Somehow the older student was able to coerce him into a trip to the local liquor store to pick up a bottle of wine. It wasn't his first choice, but it would have to do.
From there, Hunter left him alone at Jemma's doorstep in a flurry of nerves. Something prickled at the back of his mind that he should be looking for new friendship opportunities, but then he quickly reminded himself that if all went well he could have himself a new friend by the end of the night.
So at six pm on the dot, Fitz took a deep breath and knocked.
Jemma jumped to answer from her spot next to the entrance, and she smoothed down her jeans and collared blouse in a hurry before pulling on the handle with a final nervous breath.
"Fitz! Hello! It's so nice to see you," she smiled warmly, stepping aside to let him in.
He returned her greeting nervously. "It's nice to see you too,"
Oh, gosh, did I just make him nervous? 'Nice to see you?' Jem, you sound too flirty.
She said it was nice to see you. That's a good sign, right? Don't mess this up, you moron.
"I hope you like Italian! I was able to pull out one of my mum's old recipes . . . pesto cavatappi with white wine." she frowned for a moment. "But I'm not sure it came out too well. I'm not that great of a cook,"
"Oh, don't worry," Fitz smiled encouragingly. "It'll be a welcome change from ramen for once. And I'm sure that as smart as you are, it'll be amazing."
Jemma turned to face him, blushing faintly from the compliment. She was opening her mouth to speak, but her muscles froze as she looked at him.
They stood there, staring into each other eyes for what felt like eternity. But no matter what, Jemma decided she could never get tired of looking at them.
For a moment, she allowed herself to take him in. He looked nervous, but also full of hope and the way he looked at her . . . it was a wonder she hadn't noticed it sooner.
Finally, she broke it by looking down at his lips. Realizing she had just ruined whatever sort of moment they'd been having, she blushed even further and turned back to the kitchen.
"I'll be out in just a moment! You can take a seat on the couch if you'd like,"
He cleared his throat. "Oh, yes . . . thank you,"
Fitz crossed the room to her sofa, sitting as if on nails. He rearranged his stance several times over, scared between looking too at home and looking too out of place. Eventually he found a position that seemed to fit well, and he held it along with his breath until Jemma returned.
Jemma, on the other hand, was as much of a wreck as he was. In the kitchen, her phone was out and on camera mode, using the screen to check her reflection. She gently smoothed her eye shadow back into place and picked at a stray eyelash. After a moment she realized how silly she was being and put her phone away in her pocket.
She quickly grabbed their pasta – on her best non-paper plates – and hurried out to the couch.
"Here we are!" Jemma chirped, passing him his portion to which he thanked her gratefully.
"Oh, and I brought a bottle of Cabernet. I thought perhaps, well, you might like some," he shrugged sheepishly.
"Of course," she smiled. "I'll be right back."
Jemma returned with a bottle opener and cups, apologizing that she didn't have any actual wine glasses. He assured her it was fine and opened the drink for her, pouring out two.
"Oh," she lit up when she caught sight of the label. "that's my favorite brand,"
He beamed back at her. "Really? Mine too,"
They ate in silence for a moment, Fitz pausing only to congratulate her that this was by far the best meal he'd had in over six months. She blushed again, and for a moment wondered if it was possible for one's cheeks to become stained red.
Eventually she found the courage to start up the topic of her 'project,' a preplanned idea straight from the internet. But excelling at preparation had everything laid out perfectly, and they talked late into night.
"Y'know, Simmons," Fitz looked up at her with those blue eyes, and she felt her heart flutter. "I think I might not quite hate you anymore,"
She laughed. "I think I feel the same way, perhaps even stronger." Jemma froze at her words, waiting to see his reaction with a horrified expression.
But her breath left her when he replied:
"Me too,"
At that point Jemma realized that their study date had turned into a study date (however much sense that was supposed to make). And to be completely honest, she wasn't unnerved in the least.
If anything, she felt at peace.
As the night wore on, they snuggled closer and closer. Every chance either got they would close that extra few inches, or brush their hands together that would send a flurry through her stomach.
The bond was growing, she could feel it. It was strange, and new, and exciting and warming all at once. It was like she could feel the emotions radiating off of him. All she could sense were his feelings for her, warming her from tip to toe.
He loved her.
It was intoxicating, the feeling. Finally, at age twenty-two, Jemma Simmons had found her soul mate. And no longer did she feel threatened by him. Much the opposite.
Jemma wouldn't take back any of the past forty-eight hour for anything. She had found all she ever needed in her sworn enemy. It's funny how it turns out, isn't it?
Finally, when the sky had darkened and the day saw its end, Jemma was wrapped up in his arms on the couch. He held her like she was fine china and she could break at any moment, like the most precious thing in the cosmos.
Somehow, Fitz awakened from what he had come to deem the best sleep of his life. Jemma was draped over his lap, her loose blouse pulled up slightly.
With a burst of sobriety, he realized just how real this all was. The girl of his dreams had fallen asleep using him as a pillow. And she told him she had feelings for him, whereas yesterday she had been ready to tear his head off.
Fitz gently lifted his free arms from around her waist, careful to keep his other still where it was cradling her head. For another fleeting moment he wished he was able to see what her eyes looked like, or the color of her hair. But it was all wrapped in the hazy blue that had become his existence.
He brushed some of the curls from her cheeks, marveling in the way it flowed like silk around his fingers. She smiled in her sleep, curling slightly into his touch.
The movement caused her shirt to ride up a small bit on her hip, and his eyes darted down in a note of panic.
What if she thinks I did something? Ugh, this could ruin bloody everything . . .
But his thoughts were soon replaced by curiosity at the sight of blue curling up her hip bone. He mentally debated for a moment, scared to invade the girl's privacy.
In the end, curiosity won out and Fitz craned his neck forward. His heart stopped.
Leo Fitz was scrawled in his cramped cursive handwriting on her hip.
He had found his soul mate.
A tremor worked its way through his system, tears springing to his eyes. After all the years of loneliness he'd faced as a child, he finally had someone to look out for him and vice-versa.
Fitz leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. His heart was swelling at the fact that Jemma was going to be a permanent part of his life from now on.
That is, if she feels the same way.
He sighed, deciding to brush off the negative thoughts until morning.
Jemma stirred, seeming uncomfortable. So Fitz worked his other arm beneath her legs and lifted her up bridal style. Her head leaned into his shoulder, her warm breath tickling his neck. He relished the feeling.
He carried her into the bedroom, pulling back the sheets and laying her down like a delicate flower. Her eyes fluttered open at the loss of his warmth, and she looked up at him with the eyes he'd fallen in love with.
"Where are you going?" she whispered, her voice rough with sleep.
He smiled at her, stroking a hand over her hair as he pulled up the covers. "Home," he leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek, stroking a thumb over her jawline.
She held his gaze, reaching out a hand. "You are home, Leo. Please, stay,"
The way she looked at him was his new definition of the word 'love,' and he couldn't help but oblige. "Alright. If you're sure . . ."
She beamed, her smile cutting the darkness brighter than all the stars he had gazed upon as a young boy. Fitz grinned to himself as he walked to the other side of the mattress, kicking off his shoes and sliding in next to her.
Immediately, Jemma turned and pulled him into a hug, catching him off guard. He could feel her grip loosen at the prospect she had gone too far, but just like that, he pulled her tiny waist closer to him.
She looped one of her legs with his, getting as close to him as she could. Finally, she curled her head into his chest, reveling in the feel of his breathing and heartbeat. Fitz sighed contentedly at the weight of her pressed to him. Jemma craned her neck up, kissing his jaw.
"I love you,"
The whisper was so quiet and fearful he almost didn't hear it. But he did, and he leaned back down to kiss the top of her head.
"I love you too, Jemma,"
She smiled against his shirt, and together they drifted off to sleep.
He awoke first, Jemma still snuggled cozily against him. Fitz didn't have the heart to move and awaken her, so he stayed still and listened to the quiet sound of her breaths.
They were even and decidedly tiny, frail yet strong just like her. Vaguely, he remembered Jemma meant 'precious stone.' He decided it couldn't be more right.
She was beautiful and kind, and yet she was strong like no one else he had ever met. She was invigorating, awakening feelings so strong he hadn't thought them possible.
Jemma stirred against him, moving about quietly until her eyes opened and raised to meet his.
They stayed like that, like that first time he walked in. But unlike that first time, when her eyes darted to his lips, he understood perfectly.
His head slowly ducked the gap, giving her time to pull away if she felt differently. But his thoughts were interrupted by the warmth of her lips meeting his, and his eyes fluttered shut. A bolt of electricity shot through him, his lips barely able to hold back a gasp against hers.
Never had something felt so right.
They fit perfectly against each other, and Jemma pressed up to deepen the contact.
Moments later, they pulled back. Jemma looked up at him, nothing but pure adoration in her features. He searched her auburn eyes for some form of rejection, but he came up empty. And that's when he realized.
Her eyes are auburn. Her hair is caramel. I can see the little freckles dotting her nose.
The bond was complete, and their worlds burst into color.
Skye – I'm on my way down to pick up my leftovers :3
Jemma – I'm so sorry Skye, we don't have anymore
Skye – What?! How could you eat all of that? And what do you mean 'we?'
Jemma – Leo was hungry and I'm out of cereal
Skye – so he like slept on your couch or something?
Skye – Wait . . .
Skye – Oh gosh, Jemma . . .
Skye – You said a week
Skye – A FRIGGIN WEEK
Skye – And yet here we are, twenty-four hours later
Skye – I swear, if he got you pregnant
Jemma – NO
Jemma – We didn't do anything
Jemma – except I'd like to say your eyes are beautiful.
Jemma – and your hair
Jemma – it's like seeing you for the first time!
Skye – good for you. For me, today sucks. I'm going back to bed :P
And that's a wrap! I hope you enjoyed it :) I'd love a review! Feel free; I don't bite :3
Have a nice day / night!