The cold door Sheldon leaned into, he felt, could break under all his weight. It could swing open in that moment, exposing himself for good, the decieving man he really was. He told Amy he wasn't about that life, never was, but as warm hands met the smooth surface of the doorknob, three contradictory words echoed in his mind.

You want this.

He did, Sheldon Cooper did want this. He supposed Leonard was to thank for the realization, but with the rest on him Sheldon felt almost paralyzed.

At first he heard nothing. Then, Amy's sweet voice rung into the hallway. It was full of melodies and harmonies he didn't even know, phrases of peace and happiness he could pick up on. He smiled at how well his girlfriend could convey positive emotion in her voice as he swiftly opened the door, and the soothing tunes washed over him in a calming wave.

She smiled when she saw him, eyes soft and meeting his for a brief moment before she stood. Sheldon was dazed as she spoke, noticed the color on her cheeks, and blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

"Leonard told me about your fantasies."

He should have felt regretful at the hesitant look on her face, the way her grin faltered and her wavering stance of confidence. He should have met her gaze, kissed her, wrapped her in a warm embrace at least.

Instead he strode past her, staring at her harp. Her hair blew behind her subtly as he passed, and her confused expression remained as she watched her boyfriend carefully reach out and graze the strings just barely. He was quiet, an unsettling silence, and then his hand dropped.

"Okay."

"This is ridiculous," Sheldon stated, almost too quiet to hear. Also at the same time, Amy said hastily that it meant nothing, and slowly their eyes met once again. Sheldon took a breath.

"One of us is lying."

The glare Sheldon intended faded so quick. The frightened look in his girlfriend's eyes was almost enough to bring him to his knees, tremble with anxiousness that he may have caused said fear. He moved closer to her.

He wanted to ask her what she was afraid of. What doing any of this meant, for her, for them. He wanted to ask her if she truly was scared, or if he hadn't quite gotten the hang of reading people yet. All this came out as a single, quiet scoff in response to her acquisition, and at his lips a grin toyed.

"I should be able to kiss my woman if I want to, regardless if prompted by fantasy writing or not."

Amy looked almost stunned. She laughed, which is why Sheldon thought she almost looked stunned, and smiled sweetly.

"Sheldon, you can. I don't understand what you're getting at, besides the fact that my writing apparently brought you to the conclusion that you want to kiss me more."

Reddening, Sheldon mumbled "I never said that." and narrowed his eyes at her. In a flicker, it seemed, the atmosphere changed, Amy's expression softer, she sighed deeply.

"Why are you here, Sheldon? So what, you heard about my stories. And?"

As she talked, it was almost as if he was captivated by a lone pile of papers on her desk. They were lying there, innocently, illuminated by the light in a way that he found calming.

"You're a very talented writer." as he spoke his voice felt suddenly small.

Amy gradually grew quiet. He couldn't bring himself to look at her, walked over to her desk, and sifted through her papers. "Very promising," he nearly whispered after some time, his back to her.

When she still didn't reply, he turned slightly, only to catch her walking towards him. She placed a hand gently on his shoulder, and he could feel her smile in the air.

"Do you really mean it?"

The way Amy asked the question, how close she was and how her breath touched his skin, lingering and sending chills up his spine, prompted him to subconsciously lick his lips. He set down any remaining papers in his hands and nodded.

"You mean all of what you said?" She questioned.

Her insecurities made Sheldon want to shake her really, really hard.

And sometimes it made him want to hug her, really, really tight.

Or kiss her, so fucking much.

He restrained himself, however, acting as if he were distracted by the bottom of his shirt. He swallowed slowly and nodded again, but this time he felt like it wasn't enough. He didn't even know what was, anymore.

But Amy did, and whether he knew or not, he needed a hug, one which she willingly gave. Sheldon cursed at himself silently as he felt himself tear up, and he inhaled deeply to gain control. Before pulling away she kissed his neck gently, and Sheldon found himself smiling.

"Hey Amy?"

She responded by bringing her eyes to his.

"Maybe we could… write a little… fanfiction of our own."

Amy's eyes brightened at the suggestion, and she quickly ran into her room to retrieve her most special spiral notebook, having failed to catch the small innuendo Sheldon had learned from Howard.

He didn't mind, grinning at her enthusiasm and happily spent the rest of the day with her writing whatever they wished.