Amy's stressed and Sheldon's there to help c:
Last week Sheldon Skyped with Amy, and she answered with eyes that shown bright with passion. Her tone indicated how thrilled she was, desperate to start her next project at work. Sheldon tuned in to the discussion with his full, undivided attention, and watched as her eyes sparkled and her lips curved into an enthusiastic grin. She almost looked dazed with amazement, and Sheldon was reminded of just how beautiful she was.
A few days later and the weekend rolled around. Sheldon Skyped with Amy, and she answered with eyes that still shown bright, the passion still there, but her smile didn't reach those green beauties. Sheldon again listened to her talk, her voice soft and soothing, and wondered why she had stopped the conversation quicker than before.
Early into the following week Sheldon Skyped Amy, and she picked up on the third ring. Her hair shown wet and flat into the camera, her gaze steady on him. She didn't want to talk about work, pressed for how his day was, and when she did talk about work, the excitement in her expression appeared almost feigned. Sheldon sighed that night upon signing off, and asked himself why she had turned down his invitation for lunch the next day.
Presently was another weekend, though work that Friday morning came first. Instead of skyping Amy that night he did so before going in, and she picked up on the fourth ring, the camera shaky and hurried voices in the background. Amy peered into the camera quickly, looking frazzled, and skipped over a greeting. Shortly after, the call was dropped, and Sheldon pondered why she hadn't called him right back, like she would have done.
She's just busy, he told himself once. She's been busy, he told anyone who asked. She is a person with a life, and she's busy.
Throughout the day Sheldon thought of her, the way her eyes looked before they acquired bags under them. How natural her smile seemed, now rather forced. How calm and content her voice sounded to his ears before it turned chaotic and strained.
After work Sheldon decided to take the bus home, a decision that was unknown to any of his friends.
When he got to his destination, the hall was clear. He knocked on her door swiftly, waited, and bit his lip. There was mumbling inside, incoherent words tossed into the air.
He didn't wait any longer for her to answer the door.
When he saw her, he was speechless. Her head in her hands, Amy looked as if she had either just lost her best friend, or had been on drugs of some kind. She was just staring blankly at an empty file on her computer, a zombie who hadn't slept in ages. Her hair and glasses were askew beyond repair.
Sheldon reached out to touch her. She didn't look at him, but sighed quietly and ran her fingers through her greasy, snarled brown hair. He still thought she looked beautiful, but refrained from saying anything.
Instead, he sat next to her, grabbed one of her hands, pulled it down. There were no initial protests on her end as he laced their fingers together, but after a moment she let out a deep breath and moved away from him, mumbling some more.
"Why are you here, Sheldon?"
From what he could tell, there was no anger in her voice, but tension and exhaustion were evident. Sheldon was quiet, starring at his hands, before he, too, ran one through his hair and looked up at her carefully.
"You look like you've been stressed lately..." he pointed out, despite the fact that it was obvious, which she said right after.
Awkwardly Sheldon stood, and walked behind her couch. He stood so he was directly behind his girlfriend and brought his strong hands to her shoulders, resting upon them gently and then moving them slowly, effectively. She attempted to crane her neck to look at him, but he slowly shook his head and continued massaging her shoulders.
Why on Earth is she so tense? he thought over and over the longer she wouldn't relax. Finally he decided to lean down and whisper in her ear "Just relax."
He heard her sigh and wished he could see her expression. "I can't." she all but whispered. Confused, Sheldon paused his actions and stood up strait, though keeping his hands on her. "Why not?" he asked.
"Well, it's just... you haven't touched me in a while... and I know you only did this because I've been stressed. but... quite frankly... it's turning me on."
Oh.
Sheldon stood still. He considered his options, let Amy suffer while he continued the massage as an excuse to simply touch her, or he could touch her in a different, more unique way that would end in them both being pleasured that night.
Or he could just simply leave.
"...Would you like some help with that?" he choked out lamely, and bit his tongue while he waited for a reply. This is so awkward, he thought over and over.
"Only if you want to." she replied. Sheldon thought she sounded distracted, and so walked to the front of the couch and took the laptop from her grasp. She opened her mouth as if to tell him no, give it back, but he silently shut the computer and sat beside her, perhaps a little closer than necessary. With a long inhale he leaned in, capturing her sweet lips with his.
He prided himself as he felt her practically melt into his touch. He was the only one who could get his lady to calm down in such a way, and although her wandering hands and deepening of their kiss had him more riled up than relaxed himself, he smiled and took her in.
Their weekend was only getting started.
