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Amy was horny.
She'd had an extremely vivid sex dream about Sheldon the night before and hadn't been able to shake the memory of it all day. She knew there was nothing that Sheldon would do about it, since they had never done more than kiss, but she hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. And of course, tonight was date night. She was forced to spend time with him, but couldn't jump him the way she wanted. It was almost physically painful holding herself back.
Little did Sheldon know that Amy had another date planned for later in the evening. One with her good friend, Gerard.
She sighed heavily and glanced at Sheldon over her Kindle. He was typing away happily on his laptop next to her on the couch in her apartment.
She had made them dinner and now they were supposed to be watching a movie, but Sheldon had requested she give him some time to work on an idea. He had been giddy about it the entire evening, chatting animatedly about it over dinner. It was all he had been able to talk about.
Normally Amy loved listening to him talk about his work, but tonight he had sounded much like the teacher from Charlie Brown. "Wah wa wa wah wah." On and on. She hadn't been able to focus on anything but his lips and his long, elegant fingers as he'd waved them about excitedly in the air.
She wondered just what those fingers could do to her.
Suppressing a shiver, Amy lowered her Kindle to her lap.
"Sheldon?"
"Hmm?" He responded but didn't look up or stop typing.
"When you get to a good stopping point, can we talk?"
He glanced at her, brows furrowed. "Sure."
She smiled gently and lifted her Kindle to continue reading.
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Fifteen minutes later she was starting to get frustrated. He still hadn't stopped working and she was beginning to wonder if he had forgotten about her request. She knew how he was when he got "in the zone," but she couldn't help feeling annoyed.
What a pointless date night, she thought.
She decided to take matters into her own hands. She placed her Kindle in her lap and cleared her throat as she looked at him.
"I need three more minutes," he said, without looking up.
She rolled her eyes, then stood up to go make them some tea.
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Amy placed their full mugs of tea on the coffee table and sat back down on her couch. She looked at him pointedly.
"Sheldon. It's been five minutes."
He groaned. "I know, I know, just... hold... on," he muttered as he finished typing with a flourish. She watched as he saved the document he was working on, then closed the laptop, placing it on the coffee table.
"My apologies. You know how I get..."
"Yes," she interrupted him. "When you're in the zone. I know."
She clasped her hands together on her lap and took a deep breath, suddenly worried how he would feel about being interrupted by the type of conversation she wanted to have. Amy hesitated and bit her lower lip.
"Well?" he asked and she could tell he was already getting irritated with her. She winced but decided to barrel on.
"I'm going to ask you a personal question and it might seem random and out of nowhere, but I promise there's a reason for my asking."
His brows furrowed and his Adam's apple bobbed. "Alright..."
"Have you always been mysophobic?"
His whole body relaxed and he nodded. "Since I was two years old."
“That long? Was there a specific trigger?" She picked up her tea and took a careful sip.
"Ugh, yes." He shuddered. "Missy and I contracted a terrible case of pink eye." His eyelid twitched. "Shortly after that, my brother and father fell victim to the terrible disease. Only my mother and Meemaw were spared."
She watched as his fingers twitched and knew he was fighting the urge to rub his eyes. Instead, he reached for his own mug, busying his hands.
"And at age two, you understood how it happened?”
"Not at first. Missy and I were eating our lunch while Mom and Meemaw were discussing everything. They were talking about how contagious it was and how they had been washing their hands religiously. Meemaw made a joke about wearing safety goggles. That's when I made the correlation. Especially when I remembered how Missy had poked me in the eye a few days before." He leaned forward and placed his mug back on the table.
"Did they realize you were listening?" She placed her tea beside his.
"Oh, I'm sure they did. Everyone knew how brilliant I was, even at that age, but the adults in my life often forgot that when it came time for adult conversations. I overheard many things I wasn't supposed to. Or rather, wouldn't have understood if I wasn't a genius. And sometimes I didn't understand, but I knew how to find out if something piqued my interest." He smirked. "The next time we went to the library, I asked the librarian to help me find books on germs. There were a few children’s books with rudimentary explanations. My favorite was the one that told the reader how to protect themselves from disease. I became rather obsessive about hand-washing after that."
Amy chuckled. "I'm sure you did. How far back does your eidetic memory go?"
Sheldon made a humming sound in his throat. "Let's see... I remember some things starting around my first birthday, but the memories become more and more clear over the following months. I remember everything after age two."
"Wow."
Sheldon smiled smugly, then lifted his tea to take another sip.
"Do you think your obsession with cleanliness was amplified by the fact that you learned so young, before your brain was fully developed enough to comprehend the entirety of the situation?"
The smile left his face as he pondered her question. He wrapped both hands around his mug. “I’ve never thought of it like that before." He paused. "I suppose that could be." He shrugged. "As an adult, I understand the difference between good and bad bacteria and I understand the necessity of disease, especially in terms of natural selection. At the time, it seemed more black and white then that... Germs were bad, cleanliness was good. I still feel that way, obviously, but I understand the shades of grey involved now."
She nodded in agreement and twisted her hands together again.
He tilted his head and glanced at her hands. "You said you had a reason for asking me this?"
Her stomach swooped with nerves as she nodded at him. She swallowed and unfolded her hands to cup them around her knees.
"Yes, I... uh... I want to ask you another personal question. But this one is... a bit more intense." She was having difficulty meeting Sheldon's gaze. She licked her lips nervously. "If you don't feel comfortable answering, it's okay. We can forget I even asked."
"Alright." It was his turn to fidget anxiously. His fingers tightened on his mug.
"Is your..." Amy met his gaze. "Is your mysophobia the reason why you struggle with physical intimacy?"
He glanced away nervously, but didn’t seem entirely surprised by her question. "Umm, yes and no." He cleared his throat. "It's definitely a part of it, but it's not... all of it."
They sat in silence for a few moments, both uncomfortable with the topic. She was worried about upsetting him and assumed that he wasn't thrilled with the direction their conversation was going. But... she needed to know.
Sheldon placed his tea mug back on the coffee table, then folded his hands tightly together in his lap. Finally, he spoke.
"I will answer your question fully, but I need to tell you that it's very... personal and... it's not something I've ever discussed with anyone before." He cleared his throat and she noticed that his knuckles were white where his hands were gripped together. "But you deserve to know because this... directly affects you."
"You can trust me, Sheldon," she whispered softly and reached out to place her hand on the two of his.
He smiled slightly. "I know. I do. I do trust you, Amy." He flipped a hand over to squeeze hers gently. "It's just... can we keep this between us? Please?"
Her heart squeezed in her chest. “Of course, Sheldon. I would never break your confidence. I love you."
He smiled again and nodded at her. "I love you, too."
She smiled back at him and let go of his hand to give him some breathing room. She knew this was going to be a difficult conversation and she didn't want him to feel pressured.
He took a deep breath and then started. "This is actually something I have thought about a lot over the last couple of years. More specifically since our kiss on the train." He paused, gathering himself. "I've determined that there are three components to my... struggle, as you put it, with physical intimacy."
He met her gaze and she nodded, silently encouraging him to continue.
"The first is what we have just discussed, the mysophobia. And the second relates to my... sexuality." He paused, waiting, as if he was afraid of her reaction.
She was nervous, worried about what he might say, but she smiled softly at him, trying to reassure him. "Go on."
"I learned about sexual intercourse when I was six years old. Specifically how it relates to procreation. I didn't really understand the diverse spectrum of sexuality until I was a teenager and in college." He swallowed and looked down at his hands. "There had always been whispers and comments about me for as long as I can remember. I quickly figured out how to ignore them and carry on with my life, but then a derogatory term was used towards me in regards to my sexuality that I didn't understand. So I looked it up."
"Oh, Sheldon," she murmured and scooted closer to him. He shrugged.
"There have been many incorrect statements made about me over time and this was one of them. The derogatory term that was used, which I won't repeat, referred to me as a homosexual. At the time, I didn't know what that meant, so I looked it up. Afterwards, I spent a very short while trying to decide if I was attracted to women or men or both."
Sheldon took a deep breath and slumped back into the couch. He looked down at his hands, unable to meet her gaze. "I was just fifteen at the time... And the only answer I could come up with was... Neither."
Her stomach plummeted, afraid of what that might mean for them and their relationship.
Sheldon finally dared to glance up at her and she tried her very hardest to keep her face neutral and calm. She wasn’t quite sure what to say, so she gave him a small, reassuring smile and nodded her head for him to continue.
“I had only recently gone through puberty, but I was already familiar with… the changes that occur after undergoing that hormone shift. I had experienced…um…”
He gulped.
“Erections?” She murmured softly. His eyes met hers for a brief second, then dashed away, and she watched his cheeks pink up in embarrassment.
“Yes.” He rubbed his hands over his face and she felt a rush of love for him spread through her. She couldn’t believe he was being so open and honest with her about a topic that he clearly found mortifying.
Amy leaned forward and touched his knee softly. “Sheldon, it’s okay. It’s natural and inevitable. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”
“I know, I… I’m sorry. This is just really difficult for me to talk about.”
“I understand.” She gently squeezed his knee. “It’s just me.”
He smiled slightly and nodded. “Okay. I’m okay.” He took another deep, shuddering breath. “Anyway, I had experienced them by that point. But they were always random or in the morning when I woke up. Most of the time I could ignore them and if I couldn’t, a cold shower helped. It was… rare… that I had to do anything about them.”
His voice was so quiet she could barely hear him.
“The reason I bring this up is because… I never developed an erection because of sexual attraction or arousal. Towards women or men. So I didn’t know how to define myself. That never really mattered to me, I suppose, but I was more curious than anything. Once I started my research, it became sort of like a mystery I wanted to solve.”
He paused, gathering his thoughts. “After studying the various categories of sexuality, I came to the conclusion that I was…” He looked up and met her gaze nervously. “Asexual.”
Her heart thumped heavily in her chest. She had to look away, had to hide her eyes from him in case they gave anything away. She had suspected this about him all along, but hadn’t wanted to face it - hadn’t wanted to hear the truth of it.
She didn’t know what to do. She loved him. For everything that he was and everything that he… was not. But she couldn’t ignore the grief that filled her, the loss of something she longed so desperately for. The loss of that kind of intimacy, that way of sharing her love with him. She wanted it so much.
He reached out, taking her wrists in his hands. “Amy.”
She closed her eyes, trying to stuff the feelings back down deep inside of her.
“Please look at me,” he whispered.
She looked up, forcing herself to meet his gaze. She could see the worry on his face. Worry for her.
“I’m not asexual.”
Her brows furrowed in surprise. But, he just— “What?”
“I thought I was... But everything changed when I met you.” He made a face. “Well, that’s not exactly true… Things didn’t change right away. But over time, they did. Especially once we kissed on the train. I had not been expecting my own reaction to it. The way it made me feel, I… It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. It frightened me. It challenged everything I knew to be true about myself.”
He squeezed her wrists gently, then slid his hands down to lace his fingers through hers.
“So I went back to the drawing board. I began researching sexual orientations again. This time it was much easier - having Google helped tremendously - plus, there’s a lot more information out there than there was back in 1995.”
She tightened her grip on his fingers. “And?” Her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip. “What did you discover?”
His eyes had dropped to her mouth at the motion of her tongue. He swallowed and looked back up at her. He smiled softly, then released one of her hands to reach up and gently stroke his thumb across her cheek for just a fleeting moment. She barely registered it happening before his hand was gone.
“I’m demisexual.”
Amy nodded, relief flooding through her.
“Are you familiar with the term?” he asked.
“Yes, but… Will you explain it to me in your own words?”
“Certainly.” He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. “To me, it means that… Prior to you, I never experienced sexual attraction or sexual arousal to another person. The times when I was… aroused, were completely random or just simple physiological responses to stimuli. Even when I… Even when I relieved myself, it had only been about the manual act itself. There had never been any fantasies or images of… well, anything really.”
Her eyes widened. “Really? You never fantasized about… anyone before?”
He shook his head and shrugged. “No. It just… It didn’t work like that for me.”
Hope bloomed in her chest. “But things are different now?” she asked quietly.
He blushed and looked down at their joined hands. “Yes,” he said simply. “I have a schedule,” he blurted out.
“What?” She felt like her head was spinning. She couldn’t keep up with him.
“A, uhm, self-gratification schedule, if you will.”
She couldn’t help it, she snorted. She dropped his hand to bring hers to her face to cover her mouth and nose. “I’m sorry.”
He made a face and rolled his eyes. “It’s fine. I know, it’s strange.”
“No, Sheldon. It’s… It’s just a very… Sheldon… thing to do.”
He raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Well… of course it is. I am Sheldon, after all.”
She chuckled and patted his arm. “Nevermind. So… You have a schedule.”
“Yes. I’m not sure why I even said that, it has nothing to do with the point I was trying to make.”
“Which is?”
“I utilize fantasies now, during my… scheduled… gratification.”
It was Amy’s turn to blush. “Oh.” She felt the heat in her cheeks. She pressed her lips together to stop from grinning madly. She wanted to jump up and down and scream and shout and dance.
He wanted her!
She could wait for him forever as long as she knew that he wanted her too.
“You’re the first person I’ve ever shared a romantic bond with, therefore, you’re the first person I’ve ever been attracted to and the first person I’ve ever been... aroused by.” His cheeks had reddened again. “And… some day… you’ll be the first person I’ve ever been intimate with.”
“Oh, Sheldon.”
She couldn’t help herself. She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face against him, all the while squeezing him so tightly she could feel his breath leaving him.
“Amy.”
She laughed. “I’m sorry.” She loosened her grip on him, then looked up at him with sparkling eyes. “I’ll wait forever for you, Sheldon Cooper. Thank you for telling me this.”
“But Amy - you’re forgetting about the third component.”
Her eyes widened and she sat back, releasing him. “Oh. Yes.” She shook her head. “There’s more. I forgot.” She was getting whiplash from this emotional rollercoaster of a conversation.
"The last component has to do with my touch aversion."
Her stomach plummeted... again. Here she was being all handsy with him and... he hated it. Damn. This couldn't be easy, could it?
"Being called a homosexual isn't the first category I've been placed into. And while it was incorrect, others... are sometimes more accurate."
Her brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"You know that everyone thinks I'm crazy. And I always object and say that my mother had me tested."
"I don't think you're crazy."
He grinned. "I know." He leaned forward and gave her a quick peck on the lips.
Her jaw nearly dropped in surprise. Random kisses from Sheldon weren't a thing. Butterflies started circling in her abdomen.
"I'm not crazy. But... I've occasionally wondered if my mother should have had me tested for... other things."
"Such as?" she murmured when he didn't continue immediately.
"I don't like to be touched. I don't understand sarcasm. I can't always tell what someone is thinking or feeling just by looking at them. Sometimes I can't even tell by talking to them. I'm blunt and sometimes rude without meaning to be. I'm very rigid with my schedule. I don't like change and I struggle to adjust to it. I'm obsessive in my interests and have to know everything about a subject when it's important or interesting to me... I could keep going, but… Well, you know me better than anyone.”
He paused, then took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes. "I believe I'm autistic."
Amy let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding.
"Sheldon." She grasped his hands again, needing to anchor herself to him. She had suspected this, as well, but hadn't given it much thought, because it simply didn't matter to her. He was who he was, regardless of a diagnosis or a label.
He smiled slightly. "I've never admitted that to anyone before. It's come up a few times over the years, usually behind closed doors to my parents. I know a school counselor brought it up with my parents when I was a child. I asked my mother about it once and she told me that she had decided not to follow up on it because it didn't matter to her. Being labeled wasn't going to make any difference. Actually, I think she thought it might make things harder for me.”
He looked down at their joined hands and squeezed hers gently. "I do wish, sometimes..." His voice trailed off.
"What do you wish?" Amy fought the urge to touch him further. She just wanted to comfort him… but touching for comfort was something she usually had to beg or bargain for… and that was when she needed it, not him.
"Well... Maybe if some early interventions had occurred, I wouldn't have struggled so much growing up."
"Sheldon…” She desperately wanted to hug him, but she held herself back. “I’m so sorry you never got the chance to find out.”
He shrugged and she watched as he appeared to be refocusing himself, mentally brushing off the weight of ‘what could have been.’ He met her gaze again.
“In regards to the third component… Have I ever told you what I feel when someone touches me?"
Her hands loosened on his, seemingly of their own volition. He glanced down, then tightened his grip on her. Her lips curved slightly as she gave him a gentle squeeze in return. It appeared that he wasn’t going to allow her to let go.
"You've mentioned things here and there but you've never given an in depth explanation,” she said.
He nodded. "Well, it's not just an emotional response that I feel." He looked away and gathered himself, as if he was trying to find the words to describe the feeling. "Rather, the emotional response is a reaction to the physical stimuli and the idea of germs. When someone touches me, I get a pins and needles sensation under my skin... Almost like... almost as if there are fire ants crawling on me."
He shuddered and she fought the sudden urge to release his hands and back away to the other side of the couch. Partially because she wanted to give him space, if her touch made his skin crawl, and partially because it hurt, so much, to realize that he felt this way when she touched him.
Maybe they would never be able to share their love in the physical way she dreamed of. She felt tears clogging up her throat, so she swallowed rapidly, trying to stop the emotions before they became apparent to him.
"It happens with strangers and it happens with people I know and am comfortable with. It happens when Leonard touches me. It happens when Penny touches me."
He sighed then and released her hands to reach for his now cool mug of tea. That didn’t feel like a good sign to her, especially since he didn’t mention her touch. He took a long sip, trying to steady himself. She followed suit, grabbing her mug as well. Maybe then she could keep her hands to herself and stop torturing the poor man.
She looked down and watched the brown liquid slosh slightly in her cup. She was still fighting the urge to cry, so she bit the inside of her cheek to try and hold it all in. She could let it out later, after he left.
"There are less than a handful of people who can touch me without making my skin crawl.”
Amy met his gaze quickly, surprised by this information. She had assumed it was all people, all touch.
“Meemaw is one of those people, as is my mother. It didn't use to happen when my father touched me, as a child, but as I got older and… things in our house became more tense and strained, I started to get that feeling even with him."
He paused and put his mug back on the coffee table once again.
"I always attributed this to the fact that they raised me from the very beginning, when I was a helpless baby. They rocked me, hugged me, comforted me. They fed me, changed me. Their touch was necessary and it was essential."
He paused, looking steadily into her eyes. “But that theory was blown out of the water... when I met you."
Did he mean what she thought he meant? "Sheldon?"
"There's only one other person that has ever touched me that doesn't make my skin crawl."
Her hands trembled around her mug. To her amazement, he noticed and reached for it, taking it from her and putting it on the table. She could do nothing but stare at him, as the tears welled up in her eyes. She knew she wouldn't be able to stop them this time.
"That person is you, Amy."
That did it. She blinked and the tears began to fall. "Oh, Sheldon." She buried her face in her hands, trying to hide from him, not wanting to scare him away with her emotions. She needed to get away, she could feel a sob rising up in her chest, but before she could move, she felt his hands encircle her wrists. He tugged on her gently and pulled her towards him.
"Come here," he murmured.
She fell against his chest, buried her face in his shoulder and let the tears fall. She wrapped her arms around his waist and gripped the back of his t-shirt tightly in her hands.
"Please don't cry. You know it makes me anxious."
A small chuckle escaped her lips, though it sounded suspiciously similar to a sob. "I'm sorry. I'm just... so... overwhelmed right now."
He leaned his cheek against her hair and she could feel him smile.
"Do you remember when you were attracted to Penny's ex-boyfriend, Zack?"
She nodded into his shoulder.
"After we left the bar, you did an experiment. Do you remember?"
"I held your hand."
"Yes. You said you didn't feel anything."
"I lied."
He grinned. "I suspected as much.” He reached up and pulled her back by her shoulders so he could see her face. "The shocking part was... I didn't feel anything." He brushed his thumbs across her shoulders. "That is to say... I didn't get that painful ants feeling in my hand. I had never met anyone outside of my family that had been able to touch me without making me panic."
She smiled but her chin trembled and her eyes shone with tears.
"A couple of months after that, our fingers brushed when you handed me a take out container of food. No pins and needles. A month later, you stumbled and I grabbed your elbow to steady you. No ants. Two months after that, you drunkenly kissed me—”
"You're forgetting about the very first time I touched you,” she interrupted him.
"When you wiped jelly off my face after you licked your thumb?" He snickered.
Her eyes danced with merriment. "That's the one."
"That was an anomaly. We both panicked. I still can't believe you did that."
She laughed, shaking her head slightly. "Me neither."
His smile faded and he grew serious again. His fingers toyed with the ends of her hair. “It terrified me, Amy. I didn't know what to make of it. Especially way back in the beginning when we were just boy-slash-friend-slash-girl-slash-friend. I mean, I didn't even like for Leonard to touch me, and he had been my best friend and roommate for years already. Then you came along and... turned my whole world upside down.”
Another strangled sound left her throat. She looked down at his chest, unable to meet his gaze. Was that a good thing or a bad thing?
"I barely knew you back then. You certainly hadn't raised me. And yet... Your touch felt normal. There were no pins and needles, no fire ants, just... quiet. It was confusing. It's still confusing. It would have been different if the crawly feeling happened at the beginning and then stopped as our relationship advanced. But it was from the very first moment, the first touch. The only thing I have been able to determine is that I somehow knew you were Homo Novus, too."
“Sheldon… I don’t know what to say… Just… Why haven’t you told me this before?”
“You overwhelm me, Amy. You have from the day we met.” He ran his hands down her arms, then grasped her hands again. “From a very early age, I knew I wanted to be a scientist. I focused all of my time and energy into that. I had a very clear path in mind that never accounted for relationships, especially once the bullying started. I decided I didn’t really need people. Then, when I figured out I was asexual as a teenager, it just… solidified my plan. I was going to dedicate my life to the pursuit of science. I didn’t have time for love or romance or anything of the sort. I had no need for it… Until you walked into my life and requested tepid water.”
She sniffled as another tear slid it’s way down her cheek. He reached up to catch it on his fingertip. She watched him study it for a moment, before rubbing the wetness away between his thumb and finger.
“You absolutely terrified me.” He smiled at her. “To be honest, you still do.”
She chuckled slightly and wiped her own hand down her cheek, trying to dry her face.
“But I am getting used to it. Now I can’t imagine my life without you in it. I know that our relationship has moved at a snail’s pace all this time. I know it’s frustrated and upset you. I know you want more. I… I do, too. I just have to go slow. It’s who I am. I’m mysophobic, I’m demisexual, and I’m autistic. That’s a lot for me to battle against.”
“It would be a lot for anyone, Sheldon. You know I’m proud of you, right? And I love you just the way you are.”
He reached up to cup her face in his hands. He rubbed his thumbs across her cheekbones, then leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers.
“Thank you,” he whispered, then pressed his lips to hers in a gentle, comforting kiss.
Amy reached up to wrap her hands around his wrists and kissed him back, pouring everything she had into it.
When they separated, she smiled softly at him. “No… Thank you, Sheldon. Everything makes so much sense now. I know it wasn’t easy for you to share all of this, but I’m very glad you did. It really helps me to understand where you’re coming from, which in turn gives me more patience. And… just knowing you’re thinking about it and you want… me, too, is… enough. Will you…. Can you promise me something, though?”
He swallowed nervously. “What’s that?”
“Can you try to be more open with me, just like this, from now on? Your honesty tonight means the world to me. All I need is to just… know where we stand.”
He smiled and visibly relaxed. “I can do that… but only if you promise to do the same for me. You know I’m terrible at reading people and even though I’ve gotten much better at it, thanks to you, I still struggle. I assume I always will. And even though you’re more like me than anyone I’ve ever met, I still can’t read your mind.”
She quickly pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. “I promise.”
“Can I tell you one more secret?”
Her eyebrows arched in surprise. “Of course.”
“Here lately… Since we added kisses to date nights… I’ve discovered that your touch actually does… tingle. Just, not in a pins and needles, kind of way…”
“Oh, really?” She smirked and reached up to wrap her arms around his neck. “Am I correct to deduce that it tingles in… a good way?” Her fingers sifted through the hair on the back of his neck. He shivered.
“You are correct.”
“Mmm,” she murmured and shifted closer to him. “You’re in trouble now, Dr. Cooper.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Why?”
“I’m going to have a very hard time keeping my hands to myself from now on.”
Sheldon groaned and feigned a shudder, all the while smiling widely at her. “Oh, no… What have I done?”
Then he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers. To Amy, it felt like a promise, full of hope for the future. She stroked her tongue along his lower lip and he moaned softly before reciprocating. She sighed into him and pressed even closer. They were getting there… and it no longer felt like a lifetime away.
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Later that night, Amy lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, her date with Gerard long forgotten.
She absolutely could not believe how this evening had turned out. She replayed the conversation in her head, cursing Sheldon's eidetic memory as she tried to remember everything that was said.
Maybe he'd write me up a transcript, she thought with a snicker. She would never ask him to, but she was positive he could.
All she knew was that their conversation made her feel so much better about their relationship. Things had been tense between them after he came home from his train trip. Then prom had happened and things had been going so well since then, but she'd still had the overwhelming fear and worry that he would just up and leave again some day. She had been worried that their relationship wasn't equal, that he didn't want or need her as much as she did him.
She was still not sure if he prioritized her enough in his life, but their conversation had opened up a whole new line of communication between them. Maybe now they could talk about things, stop dancing around each other so much, and work together to figure things out.
Now that she knew he did desire her and did think of her as a romantic partner, that he loved her and wanted her... She thought she could handle the rest, especially if they kept their promise to each other to keep the lines of communication open. She felt closer to him now than she ever had before.
She would go slow, she wouldn't start touching and kissing him all the time. She would keep the three components in mind as she continually nudged him forward, gently increasing their physical affections while slowly getting him to open up to her more.
She rolled over and hugged a pillow to her chest, snuggling in. Maybe on their next date night, she would ask him another question. Like what he saw when he imagined their future together. That would tell her whether he prioritized her in his life.
Amy closed her eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep, daydreaming about the future she hoped they would have together. A future full of love, and honesty, laughter, and yes… even physical intimacy.
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The next morning, Sheldon walked into his office and shut the door behind him. He turned the lock, then hung up his messenger bag on the hook nearby, before grabbing his cell phone from the bag. He was excited to get back to his research, but there was something he needed to do first.
He walked around his desk and took a seat in his office chair. He tapped on his phone a few times, then brought it to his ear.
“Hi Mom.” He smiled and drummed his fingertips on his desk. “Yes, I know it’s not our scheduled call time, but I have a question.”
He paused, listening to her on the other end. “I believe I’m ready to have Meemaw’s ring. Is it still available to me?”
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