You had always believed in science and mathematical formulas, but no amount of physics calculation could have predicted how hard you’d fall for Johnny.

You used to think that the stolen glances were wishful thinking, but the whispered promises when everyone in the Baxter Building slept proved you otherwise. He is the evidence that love is the only variable you can’t solve, the one that defies all logic and physics laws. The impending launch may have raised your heart rate, but it’s the man currently helping you into your space suit that sends your pulse through the roof.

His hands feel warm through the thick material, his touch lingering just a fraction too long as he adjusts the straps around your shoulders. His usual smirk is now softer, the kind reserved only for you — the kind that makes it impossible to bite back a smile. Your conversation is low enough that the nearby technicians can’t overhear, and Sue’s voice carries over your hushed exchange.

“Nervous?” He murmurs, his gaze warm with barely contained admiration.