Author's Note: Here, have a steaming hot cup of angst. No cream, no sugar, just straight, black angst. Careful, it might be a little bitter.
Disclaimer: The Big Bang Theory © Chuck Lorre and Bill Prady
ambivalence—the coexistence within an individual of positive and negative feelings toward the same person, object, or action, simultaneously drawing him or her in opposite directions
It was never meant to go this far.
Her ragged breathing fills the space of his bedroom, short and harsh and growing in intensity, matching the wild thrashing of her heart banging against her chest. The sound of her breathy moans mixes with the much more painfully erotic sound of his tongue lapping against the wet inner folds of her sex.
She doesn't dare look down at him, for the image of his head buried deep between her legs is too embarrassing, especially with the knowledge that it's the very reason behind the irrefutable pleasure currently flowing through her body, building higher, higher, higher.
"Oh—Rajesh."
Her fate is sealed the moment his tongue hits a particularly sensitive spot inside her. The next thing she knows, she's tightening her grip on his bedsheets and steering recklessly past the thin line of resistance into the heady warmth of complete and utter oblivion.
Like an explosion, the moment leaves a fiery trail in its wake. Electrifying tingles roll through her body in a powerful current, leaving her whole body shaking as she pants uncontrollably. She clamps her eyes shut and tries to keep her dizzying head from exploding altogether. The seconds that pass bring forth an encompassing feeling of warmth, like her rigid, sweating body is being dipped into a soothing bath.
In her post-euphoric haze, she vaguely recognizes the feeling of silky fingertips gently pressing against her thighs. Her eyes snap open in alarm, and, without intending to, she locks eyes with him. And now, since she can't look away, she takes him all in, the soft, almost forlorn glint in his brown eyes, his mussed up hair, a glossy texture across his bottom lip, serving as blatant proof of the intense pleasure he's just given her. She's experienced it countless times before, but this is the first time it's at the hands of a man.
As she stares at him, she wonders how inappropriate it would be to reach out and gently smooth out his hair, but then she thinks about the shameless passion she's just experienced, all because of him, and she realizes that anything else she does at this point would be entirely insignificant.
With one hand still clutching the sheets, purposely covering her heaving chest, she brings up her free hand and lightly sweeps her fingers through his disheveled hair. She finds herself genuinely amazed when he doesn't recoil. All he does is close his eyes, while she blinks hers in bewilderment. Her hand stays suspended, as though unsure if she should do it again.
They stay like this for a while, with him half-splayed on top of her, still staring at her with that serious gaze of his, until the tranquil moment is swallowed up and replaced by a devastatingly cold feeling. It crawls its way into the shell of her heart, where it nests its thick, slimy body, holding the truth:
This was a huge mistake.
He seems to realize this the same moment she does. The serene bubble they've encased themselves in has popped, bringing forth the panic and shame. He's the first to move off the bed and start picking up their discarded clothing. She knows she should do the same, but instead she stays right where she is and simply watches him, her body paralyzed.
She keeps a protective hand on the blanket that's covering her chest, despite the fact that she's only naked from the waist down. Her eyes follow him, noting how his movements are hasty, but precise. He's only wearing his briefs, but he soon finds his undershirt and quickly puts it on. He bends down again and picks up something else, and when he turns around to hand it to her, he freezes, his eyes widening like a deer caught in the headlights.
Sheepishly, he holds the article of clothing out to her, and when she looks down to see her animal print underwear, her face scorches.
"Thank you," she says, taking them from him.
They stare at each other for a beat too long, before he abruptly turns away and walks over to the end of the bed to retrieve his pants. She busies herself by slipping both of her hands beneath the covers and pulling her underwear over her legs as fluidly as she can without having to get up.
As he continues getting dressed, she looks down to find her skirt in a wrinkled mess on the floor. She looks up at him again to see that his back is to her now, allowing her momentary privacy, so she gets out of the bed, somehow feeling more exposed than she did a moment ago without her underwear, but she doesn't dwell on it. In the back of her mind she knows that the deep shame she's trying so hard to ignore has absolutely nothing to do with her nudity.
After hiking her skirt up over her hips, she suddenly flinches when he turns around, holding out her blouse and undershirt and striped cardigan, the items of clothing all wadded up in one hand.
"Thanks," she says in an even weaker voice as she takes them, making sure their fingers don't accidentally brush together. She stares down at her clothes for a moment before looking back up at him. His eyes widen again, and he promptly turns around.
They finish dressing, back to back, and by the time she turns around, he's already facing her. All she can see is the deep frown on his face and heartache traced through his eyes that she knows must mirror her own expression. She's unsure what to say, if she should even say anything else at all.
In the end, she doesn't. She simply turns and makes a break for the door, where her shoes and tights lay waiting for her, just outside his room.
She slips into her loafers and picks up her lavender tights. As she leaves his bedroom, she scoops up her purse from his couch and throws her tights into it. She doesn't have to turn around to know that he's watching her from the doorway. Her heart hurts so much she can feel it burning. What kind of woman am I? Tears prick against the corners of her eyes. She needs to get out now before she starts crying.
So she does.
It's nearly midnight by the time she lies down in her own bed, wearing one of her flannel nightgowns. After drawing the covers over her body, she immediately feels too warm, so she kicks them off and lies there, staring wide awake at the ceiling, her breathing ringing loudly in her ears. She forces herself to close her eyes, but the second she does she's a goner, as the memory of their fight floods into her mind.
Her teeth clench as she finds herself fighting back a fresh round of tears.
His jaw is set tight, fingertips drumming against his full mug of tea as steam rises from the rim. He's more preoccupied than usual tonight, more distant and in his own world now that she's said what she's been wanting to say for a long time now. The more she tries to gently coax him out of this withdrawn mood of his, the more he pulls away.
"Sheldon," she starts, setting her own mug down on his kitchen counter.
He doesn't even acknowledge her when she says his name. He's staring down at the counter, avoiding her eyes. If they were a normal couple, she would reach out and gently take his face in both of her hands, cradling his jaw. She'd look deeply into his eyes, and she would see his anxieties start to melt away. She'd lean forward and graze her lips against his, her heart skipping a few beats, and soon, she'd feel his hands reach behind the small of her back, pulling her closer.
But they've never been normal and, frankly, never would be.
She sighs so harshly her breath hits the mug below her, causing the steam to gush out faster. There's only one way out of this. "I take it back, all right?"
His eyes finally snap up to hers, and he holds the gaze. "You take it back?" he repeats, and it's like he's clawing onto this piece of knowledge for dear life. "So, you didn't mean it? Is that right?"
He sits there, perfectly still, awaiting her answer, and the longer he stares, the more overwhelming she finds it. She feels a lump swell in her throat, and she swallows, but it's no use. She purses her lips and starts to fidget, her knees shaking.
"Amy?" he says, and she closes her eyes, unable to look at him any longer.
"No," she whispers.
"Excuse me?"
"I said no, all right?" she shouts, her eyes flying back open to catch him jumping in his seat. He blinks in alarm, blue eyes now staring at her wildly. She feels wetness in her eyes but doesn't care. "I did mean it, okay? I meant it. I'm tired of always having to suppress my feelings when I'm with you just because you're so terrified of your own. So, I'll say it again. I love you, Sheldon."
He blinks again, but he doesn't say a word. She takes a deep, steadying breath, calming herself down a bit, allowing some time for her words to sink in.
"We're two adults who have been in a committed relationship for three years and have kissed a total of three times," she says. "But this is more than just about wanting something physical. Please, I'm begging you, try to understand my side for once, because contrary to what you may believe, you're not the only one in this relationship. I'm scared, too. I have insecurities, too. But tell me, logically, what is so wrong about a woman wanting to explore a more intimate relationship with a man she's in love with?"
She's full of energy now, and she grasps either side of the counter, waiting for him to speak. This is a challenge, a game. Lay all the cards on the table and wait for him to make the next move. His eyes once again drop to the counter.
"You've changed so much," he mutters.
She curls her fingers over the edges. "And you haven't changed enough."
A glance up, a long pause, and finally, he just shakes his head.
"I don't understand why you always have to manipulate me like this." Her skin bristles at the word manipulate. "Why can't you ever be satisfied with what we have now? Why must you try to change things? What did you even expect would happen tonight? That I'd return your sentiment by professing my undying love for you? That I'd take you into my bedroom so you could finally have your carnal way with me? Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds? Honestly, Amy, what's happened to you?"
The lump is back, and it's even bigger now. She opens her mouth to retort, but instead a shrill whimper comes out. Sheldon stands suddenly, while Amy immediately pulls her arms to her body as those stubborn tears escape at last, rolling freely down her cheeks. Does he really think so lowly of her to belittle her feelings like that?
A hand touches her shoulder, and she jerks away so fast her elbow bangs against the drawer behind her. The surge of throbbing pain is nothing compared to what she feels in her heart.
"I can't do this anymore," she says.
"Can't do what—"
"I'm tired of pining for a man who doesn't feel the same way about me, and even if he did start to feel something, he'd find any excuse he could to run away like a scared little child the second he got a chance, instead of facing his feelings like a grown man and talking things out and being willing to grow in our relationship and actually want to touch me instead of always thinking that I'm tricking him into getting a little romance from him. I'm done."
She wipes furiously beneath her eyes and doesn't waste a second as she walks right past him, heading for the door.
"Amy."
Footsteps behind her. She picks up her purse that's draped over the wooden chair.
"Amy. Stop. Please."
His hand touches her shoulder again, squeezing tightly this time, but she manages to wriggle free.
"I'll have someone deliver the signed relationship termination document to your office first thing tomorrow morning," she says, and flings the door open.
"Amy!"
She can hear him right behind her now, flooding down the stairs to catch up to her. She squeezes her hand into a fist, nails digging into her palm.
"You can't just end our relationship without my consent," Sheldon says.
She wants to laugh bitterly at that, but she's too focused on getting out of there, away from him.
"We need to discuss this," he says. "You're not thinking rationally."
She reaches the lobby and heads for the door, pushing it open just enough for herself to slip out, but a second later, there's a bang from behind her, and she jumps, momentarily startled, but she doesn't stop walking. Don't look back. Don't look back.
"Amy! Are you crazy?"
"No," she says. "Goodbye, Sheldon."
It's not until she's inside her car, seat belt fastened, hands on the steering wheel and gear in drive, that she fleetingly looks out her passenger's side window and catches her final sight of him. He's standing in front of the building, out of breath, frighteningly pale, eyes glazed.
A choked sob rips from her throat.
He's even worse the following morning at work. She's not even in her temporary lab at Caltech for a full minute when he enters, clutching the piece of paper in his hands. She tries to avoid his eyes, but even just a quick glance allows her to see that his eyes are completely bloodshot.
"You can't do this to me, Amy."
She bites back a hopeless smirk. Always about him.
"This is not a legally binding document until it's been notarized. It hasn't been notarized. See? It needs to be notarized. This means nothing. You're still my girlfriend, Amy. Do you hear me? Amy."
She's already dialed a number and has the phone to her ear. "Yes, public safety? This is Dr. Fowler from the biology department. I'm calling because there's a man from the physics department currently here in my laboratory harassing me."
"Harassing you?" Sheldon says.
"It is Dr. Cooper, yes. Okay. Thank you."
She ends the call and slips her phone back into her purse, purposely keeping her head down, even when she feels his presence at her side.
"Is this because you want me to kiss you more often? Because I'll kiss you again, if that's what you want. I'll kiss you right here, right now. Is that what you want, Amy? What do you want from me? Tell me what you want."
"Respect," she says, the word slipping from her mouth before she can stop it. "Love."
"I can give you those things. I'll give you physical affection, too. I'll even buy you more jewelry. Just don't leave me. I've invested way too much time in this relationship for it to end so abruptly like this, especially when I've done nothing wrong."
She raises her head, looking him squarely in the eyes. Don't cry again. You're at work. She's consumed by another feeling entirely. Rage.
"That isn't how love works," she says, point-blank.
Sheldon's hands tighten, the paper wrinkling in his fists. "Goddammit, Amy, do you want me to grovel at your feet and tell you I love you? Do you want a marriage proposal? I'll propose to you right now."
Just as he's getting down on one knee, a large man in a pale blue uniform enters the room, walking right over to Sheldon and grabbing him by the shoulders.
"Okay, time to go, buddy."
"No, not until my girlfriend accepts my marriage proposal!"
"I'm not your girlfriend anymore," Amy says steadily.
"Yes, you are. I just explained it to you. Amy, you have to listen to me. I love you, okay? I'm in love with you, Amy Farrah Fowler!"
The man hauls Sheldon out of the room as he proceeds to repeat that confession with increasing desperation, his voice echoing down the hallway.
"I love you, Amy!"
His words are engulfed by the sound of a heavy metal door shutting. In the silence, Amy releases a quivering breath and realizes she's trembling.
She's in a state of numbness for the next several hours, until she hears a gentle knock at the door. She glances up from the petri dish she's inspecting beneath a microscope to see Howard and Rajesh standing at the doorway. The solemn looks on their faces tell her all she needs to know. She promptly snaps her eyes back to the microscope and reaches out to adjust one of the lenses.
"You okay?" Howard asks, and while the question alone makes her want to burst into unforgiving tears, she remains stone-faced as she picks up her pencil and jots something down in her notes.
"All right. We can take a hint," Howard says. "Just know that if you need anything, we're—"
"How's he doing?" she asks before she can stop herself.
A few moments pass before she lifts her head again. Howard looks stunned, eyebrows raised, while Rajesh stares at the ground, hands in his pockets. The longer they don't say anything, the more Amy fears the worst.
"He's a disaster," Howard says at last, and she finds herself holding her breath. "They confiscated his phone and have someone keeping an eye on him in his office. Apparently Leonard tried to take him home, but he's just…" He shakes his head and shrugs. "…an inconsolable wreck."
Her lips press together. She pictures him huddled in his office, head in his hands, muttering to himself and sinking deeply into depression. Because of her. Does this make me a monster? Tears well up in her eyes, and before she knows it she's clamping a rubber gloved hand to her mouth and letting out a muffled sob.
"Oh, Amy."
It's Rajesh. She doesn't look at him, or even move at all. A tear lands on her notepad and seeps through the lined paper. She feels an arm wrap around her shoulders and pull her into a warm body, and she shuts her eyes and lets him hold her, for how long, she's not sure, but it's for a while.
When she finally does pull away, he doesn't try to stop her, and instead simply drops his arm from her shoulders. As she lets out a shallow breath and removes her rubber gloves, she notices that Howard is now gone, and she's not quite sure what to make of that.
"Have you eaten anything today?" Rajesh asks. "You must be starving. Come on, I'll take you somewhere off campus. We can get some fresh air. It'll make you feel better."
Her first instinct is to tell him that she's not hungry at all, but thank you, she appreciates the offer. Yet, when she looks up at him, her vision blurred with tears, she sniffles and says, simply, "Okay."
Lunch conversion is kept light. She's aware of the fact that he's being mindful of her feelings, and she's extremely grateful for it. Her pain has since subsided from an unbearable guilt to a dull, persistent ache in her chest.
They've fallen silent as he walks her back to her lab, hands in his pockets again. When they reach the door, she turns to him and manages a faint smile.
"Thank you for lunch, Rajesh."
"My pleasure," he says, smiling back. "And, listen, if you ever need a friend to talk to, I'm here."
"Thank you," she says again, and with that, they part ways.
At least, for the time being.
She avoids checking her cell phone all day, but it's still difficult for her to concentrate on work. If the guys know, that must mean Penny and Bernadette know by now, too. It'll only be a matter of time before one of them shows up at her apartment, trying to comfort her with wine and ice cream, telling her that everything is going to be okay, that they know it hurts like hell now, but everything will work out in the end.
And she just doesn't want to deal with a second of it.
That's why, at the end of the work day, she heads over to his office, her heart beating quickly as she knocks on his door. A few seconds pass before he opens it, and when he sees her, he looks surprised, which only makes her feel even more nervous.
"Would it be all right if I…" She pauses. Am I really going to ask this? She clutches the strap of her purse. "If I stayed at your apartment for a little while? I just don't want to go home right now, and I don't want to be by myself, either."
His response is just what she needs to hear.
"Of course," Rajesh says. "I understand completely."
She follows him back to his apartment, where he orders dinner but doesn't offer her any alcohol, nor does he push her into talking about the breakup. After they eat, they wind up on his couch, sitting quietly, the television off. She wonders what Sheldon's doing now, if he stopped by her apartment at all, if he's going insane trying to contact her.
"Did I do the right thing?" she asks, looking straight at Rajesh. She needs a second opinion, needs to hear the truth before she spirals into a point of mental collapse.
"I'm not sure I can answer that," he says, and she exhales slowly, her chest deflating, her eyes unwavering as he continues. "It's hard when you care a lot about a person, because your emotions tend to get in the way of your judgement. And sometimes, when you've been alone for so long, it can make it that much easier for you to cling onto the idea of a perfect relationship, so you'll wind up staying with someone for years, even if both of you are no longer getting what you want out of the relationship. So, if you weren't happy, you did the right thing. I just hope you realize how wonderful you are, Amy, and that you truly deserve happiness."
She's silent, though she wants to cry again, because never has another individual spoken in such an honest and sensitive way to her. And then she's not thinking at all as she crushes her mouth to his. At first he doesn't respond, but a second later, there's a shift, and he starts to move his lips against hers. She focuses on the mechanics, the pressure, when gradually, the kiss softens. They lose themselves, their lips really melting together. She feels a warm hand caress her cheek, while her hands find their way around the back of his neck.
She doesn't stop him when she feels his other hand slowly graze her thigh. She doesn't stop him when the kiss deepens and their tongues meet for the first time, brushing together, igniting a spark inside her. She doesn't stop him when they move away from the couch, standing up, lips still locked, stumbling to his bedroom and heatedly peeling off clothing until they end up in bed and he's pleasuring her.
Now, the clock on her nightstand reads midnight, and though she's physically and emotionally exhausted, she lies there in her bed, turning away from the ceiling to lie on her side. Her guilt and anger and sadness all keep her awake, but at some point in the night, even while her mind and heart are at powerful unease, her body finally surrenders to sleep.
She spends her Saturday morning performing a slew of mundane tasks—showering, cooking herself breakfast, tidying up her apartment—anything to keep her mind off of Sheldon, and now Rajesh. As the day goes on, she loses track of the time, so when she hears a knock at her door, she's surprised to find that it's already late in the afternoon.
There's no signature knock, so she knows it's not Sheldon, although she's not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed by that. She fears that it's Rajesh, until she hears a clearly feminine voice.
"Amy? You in there? It's just me."
She opens the door to let Penny in, and it isn't long before she breaks down and tells her absolutely everything. Penny listens intently to it all, occasionally nodding her head or muttering a word of sympathy, and when she's done, they sit there in silence on her couch for a few moments, before Penny pulls her in for a hug that Amy accepts without hesitation.
"Oh, Ames," Penny says, running a hand down her back. "I'm here for you, sweetie. I'll be here for you no matter what. But, you know you can't avoid him forever, right?"
She bites her lip, her chin resting on Penny's shoulder, knowing the him she's referring to is Sheldon.
"Everyone's still getting together later at the guys' apartment," Penny says. "I know you may not be up for it, but the invitation's still there, if you want it."
Her eyes widen, because she's completely forgotten that they're all supposed to hang out, the three happy couples, and Rajesh, the perpetual third wheel.
"Just think about it, okay?" Penny says.
They hold the hug for a little bit longer, and by the time they pull away from each other, Amy has already made her decision.
I'm going to regret this.
She braces herself, staring straight at the 4A plate on the door, before she closes her eyes and knocks. She exhales and opens her eyes again, her heart suddenly pounding. It only gets worse when the door opens and she's met with an unmistakably scornful look from one Leonard Hofstadter. The animosity she feels from him is instantaneous and palpable. He's protecting his best friend, she knows, yet she still feels herself suck in a sharp breath.
"I really don't think you should be here right now," Leonard says, just quietly enough for only her to hear.
"I know," she says, surprising herself that she's so easily willing to agree with him. It's her guilty conscience doing the talking. "I just—"
"Amy?"
She freezes. Leonard lifts his eyes to the ceiling and sighs in exasperation. He pulls the door open wider and Amy catches sight of the whole group—Howard, Bernadette, Penny, Rajesh, all sitting in their respective seats—and finally Sheldon. He emerges from the hallway, stumbling slightly, wearing the same exact clothing he was wearing yesterday at work. Has he slept at all in the past two nights? He gropes the back of the empty beige armchair, and Leonard's already moving towards him.
"No, buddy. She was just leaving. Go back to bed, okay?"
"I thought I'd never see you again," Sheldon says, pushing Leonard out of the way and striding right over to Amy, who still finds herself unable to move. When he's close enough to her, she feels her back straighten and her head tilt up of its own accord.
"You've been drinking?" she asks softly, stunned and crestfallen, the smell of liquor permeating the air between them.
"It's socially acceptable for one to drink heavily when one is depressed," Sheldon says, and dips his head towards her, his entire body sloping forward as well.
Her hands fly up to catch him, fingers splaying over his chest. They look at each other, and he smirks lopsidedly, eyes red and pupils dilated. She's frightened for his health, both physical and mental, yet, as she stares at him, she can feel her willpower crumbling.
"Give me another chance," he says, his eyes glossing over with tears. "Please."
Her heart plummets. "Oh, Sheldon."
She slides her hands up to his shoulders and around his back, and he falls against her, his hands enclosing around her lower back. Her eyes flutter shut, though she doesn't move a muscle, not even as she feels his body quivering against her.
"You said you loved me," he says.
"I do," she whispers.
"Then why would you hurt me like this?"
She breaks again, tears running down her cheeks. Over his shoulder she catches Rajesh's gaze, his eyes boring deeply into hers, and it all becomes too much to bear. She releases Sheldon and grasps his arms, gently prying him off of her.
"I think I need to be by myself for a while," she says.
Sheldon blinks, his cheeks blotchy and nose reddened from crying. Amy subconsciously rubs a hand over her own cheek, wiping away the stray tears.
"For how long?" he asks desperately, ready to once again cling to the information for dear life.
Without thinking, she drops her eyes and looks at Rajesh again. She's trapped either way, and she knows she has only herself to blame. It doesn't even matter what happens now, because nothing will ever be the same again. If she goes back to Sheldon, she'll always have the guilt hanging over her head. If she doesn't, she'll still want to be with him, because she loves him so much it hurts, and she's disgusted with herself for getting Rajesh wrapped up in all of this.
"I'm sorry," she says, keeping her eyes on Rajesh as she says it.
"What?"
Her eyes flicker back up to him. "I'm sorry, Sheldon. I have to go. Please don't follow me."
"Amy," he starts.
"I'm sorry," she says again, and turns away.
This time, when she leaves, she doesn't hear footsteps behind her, but she does manage to break another man's heart, and all she can hope is that all three of them learn to find happiness.