You walked into the lab with a sort of apprehension. Something was going to happen today, something either amazing or despicable, it was that part you could not discern. Either Johnny was going to destroy your project once more, or you would find yourself accepting a life changing award by sundown.
You were a scientist, through and through. And the scientific method taught you to trust the things that worked, and above all, you trusted your knees. Your most interesting moments happened on days you woke up and your knees had an ache that made your walks a little more difficult to bear. These days did not come as often as they did back in high school, when every week was an event of some sort. Homecoming, your P.S.A.T, your first breakup, your second breakup, Prom, your house catching on fire, your parents falling ill, your acceptance into Harvard, your job at the lab, your promotion, and your first car wreck. All on days when walking became unbearable.
Blinking twice, you swiped your I.D, greeted Hank, the security guard, passed Sue without a word as you rushed to the library, and stretched your legs as soon as you got past the weirdly thick, heavy doors.
You were looking for an old study, something gathering dust from the 1940s, truly a relic from the beginnings of rocket science. Your grandfather was actually the one to work on it, alongside some hooligan he despised. It was a very early article, detailing the effectiveness in particle agitation as rocket fuel. While the study was antiquated and filed away after a few years, you and your team were in a rut, and you figured the old papers could spark an idea in you that could make your rocket complete its intended purpose.
“Rocket launches in a simulated atmosphere involving particle agitation.” You whispered to yourself as you searched for the file, running your fingers through all the tabs starting with the first few letters of your last name.
“Particle agitation?” A stupid, obnoxious voice asked, the last one you ever wanted to hear. It came from a place of condescension and an incurable God complex. Annoyed is the first adjective to describe how you’re feeling. “That is unbelievably outdated. Does this project mean nothing to you?”
You pulled out the file, feeling its thickness between your fingers, and wiping away the gathered dust. “Good morning, Reed.” You greeted, looking over at him with a fake smile. He was leaning against the bookshelf like a juvenile, not so much as a paper in his hands. “I would have thought you’d have found something better to do by now, like, you know, your job.” You said, taking pleasure from the sour look on his face.
“Particle agitation barely got the coots that invented it to the moon and back. We’re going to a place much farther, and delving into failed experiments from the past is not going to move us any closer to the goal. My rocket deserves better than your latest blunder in the world of science, real science, not your make-believe success with what could not have been more than a lucky guess.” Reed lectured, referring to the theories you had dedicated your life to that got you on this project.
“Well, Reed, particle agitation itself does little, but as my simulation predicts that your plan won’t get us to the nearest asteroid, it might help to listen to my grandfather, the coot, for once. His research was revolutionary, and I believe that it could be the missing piece to that inadequate hyperdrive of yours, at least, the one my rocket needs to actually get outside the atmosphere.” You said. Reed scowled.
“We’re going to the cosmos! Not to a satellite, and the hyperdrive is working fine. The kinks are being worked out as we speak, and this wild idea of yours is just another terrible idea of yours.”
You scoffed. To believe that when the two of you had first met, you could not get enough of each other. You even let yourself have a crush! On this asshole! He and you had been close as could be, until one day he just went full dickhead. You hated him. You hated how cute he was, still.
“I don’t want your finicky research near the Marvel-1, hell, I don’t want you in this lab anymore, but you’ve piggybacked your way here and won’t leave, so just get the hell away from my rocket.” He said.
“The more time you spend jealous of how smart I am, the less time goes into my rocket.” You said with a smile. “Oh, and I am really sorry that the real world has been so harsh on you, Reed, so much so that working with someone who actually knows what they are doing seems to be killing you on the inside. Now, I know you just love to visit me first thing, but I am a bit busy here, you know, doing my job.” You said, trying to leave the hallway between bookshelves.
He put out his hand in front of you, blocking your path. The usual debates were normal by now, but he was really starting to get on your nerves.
“Reed.” You said, glaring up at him.
“You really never give up, do you?” He asked. You wanted to say something, as his eyes flashed with indecision for a split second, for the first time you had ever seen, but he quickly spoke again. “You never shut up, you never let anyone else get away with anything, it’s just a few of the things I hate about you. You’re a know-it-all, more than me, more than anyone, and it’s awful. You’re so brilliant, and motivated, and you never let yourself get walked over on. You- you are put together despite everything awful in your past and your present, and you make everyone laugh and like you with your wit and humor, and your gorgeous, unavoidable eyes. And your beautiful voice, and perfect skin, and your… everything. You never give up.”
You blinked a few times as the ache in your knees subsided. You didn’t know what to say, or what to think, I mean, Reed despised you. He made sure you knew it, every single day. Your feeling towards him had once been even admiration, maybe a silly crush, but his hatred for you, or so you thought, had turned that to disdain. And he had just told you why he had hated you, in a way that made your cheeks turn bright red and your eyes stay glued to his. Your mouth must have been full of sand, because there wasn’t a thing you could think to say as your eyes widened in shock.
“You are a distraction.” He said. “I can’t focus on my work, I can’t make a simple rocket touch the sky, I can’t read, or think, or do anything when you’re in the room. I forget to eat, or I miscalculate a simple equation, my eyes, or ears, or thoughts just turn to you, constantly! I thought I was broken, that you broke me, and you did. But I want to be distracted by you, every day as long as I can.” He said. Your mouth had fallen open at some point, and you were leaning closer to him against your own free will.
“I…” Words had stopped coming kindly to you, falling to the back of your throat. You gulped down your shock as best you could. Still, nothing came out, so you got up on your tip-toes, put your hands on his chin, let one foot lift from the ground, and kissed him.
His arms slid around your waist as the two of you shared a moment of bliss, in stark contrast to your fight moments earlier. For once, you were speechless, just someone pressed up against a library bookshelf, your heart beating a mile a minute as heat rose to your cheeks in the moment of intimacy you shared.
When it was over, you took a deep breath, fixing your hair and glasses. “I think I, uh, have a cold. It would be bad for me to work today, contaminate the Marvel-1, yeah.” You said. His eyes faltered.
“Oh.” He said, looking down. His hands slid from his waist, meeting back at his sides, where they normally were.
“I will be at Perri’s to get some coffee, to, uh, clear my sinuses. If you need to discuss, uh… Business, you know where to find me, Reed.” You said, confused and out of breath. He smiled.
“Duly noted.” He said, softly, eyes meeting yours. “I think the physics of the flight needs more discussion. Twenty minutes?”
“On the dot.” You said. You stuffed the file back on the shelf, before turning around and leaving the library before anyone noticed the static in your hair, the red tint on your cheeks, and just how flustered you were.