oh would you look at that. more skimmons fluff. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
disclaimed
...
When the door bangs open, Jemma knows enough to shove her laptop onto the coffee table. Skye slams the door closed behind her, kicking her boots off near the dining table, and continues to drop accessories and pieces of clothing on her way. By the time she's reached the couch, she's down to her underwear and a tank top.
"Outside sucks," she mumbles petulantly, sticking out her bottom lip as she bends at the waist to fall over the arm of the couch, into Jemma's lap. Her voice is muffled when she adds, "I'm never leaving this apartment again."
Jemma cards her fingers through her girlfriend's hair, mhmming soothingly. "What happened, love?" she inquires, raising an unseen eyebrow at Skye's position—legs bent up and back over the arm of the couch, curving her spine in a way that couldn't have been comfortable. Skye lets her manhandle her into a position that Dr. Simmons approves of.
"The firewall didn't hold up to tests," Skye answers, staring up at her girlfriend. "I didn't get lunch. You weren't there. Some asshole thought it would be cute to follow me for two blocks to the subway, just to get pissed off when I told him I was in a relationship."
Jemma brushes back the locks of hair away from Skye's face, continuing to run her fingers through her tresses as she soothes, "That's terrible, Skye." In response, Skye presses her face into Jemma's stomach and groans.
It's quiet in the apartment for a moment; only the steady hum of the fridge and the heater cutting through the silence. Jemma is content to sit like this for hours, Skye's familiar warm weight against her, her skin soft against her legs and hands.
Her own day was long; hours spent in a lab—distinctly, achingly without Skye. She loves her work, loves her lab, loves Fitz, but nothing could replace this. There is a part of her that wants to voice this, to let Skye know that she missed her just as much.
But the quiet is nice; the steady rhythm of their breathing syncing up and settling.
The clock ticks by on the wall. Above them, their neighbors turn the stereo on and begin to cook. Outside, beyond their quiet little home, the city wakes; lights brighten as the sun dims.
They'll need to eat soon, especially if Skye hasn't eaten since this morning. Jemma opens her mouth to voice her thoughts, but stops. Skye's fallen asleep, her breathing deep and even. Looking down at her, Jemma thinks that this is the most relaxed she's seen her girlfriend in weeks. It'd be a pity to wake her.
Jemma's phone is just barely within arm's reach, so she tugs it closer for when she'll inevitably need it to order takeout from their favorite place. She leans carefully to the left to drag the blanket off the back of the couch and onto Skye's bare legs.
Settling back, Jemma resumes combing through Skye's hair with one hand, using the other to use the remote to flip the television on. She glances at her laptop once, and then back to Skye.
Her work can wait. Everything can wait.
...