A/N I'm so sorry for not updating in literally a…*checks calendar*, year. Yikes. Life got pretty busy, but now I'm free for awhile, so I can update more often again. My New Year's resolutions? To update every fic I'm writing every other week day.
Disclaimer: Nothing has changed. I still don't own the Big Bang Theory; just Sophie.
"Cause everybody wants some love
Shooting from the stars above
And though my heart will break
There's more that I could take
I could never get enough
It's in the photograph of love"~
Weezer, "Photograph."
Chapter Sixteen
SOPHIE'S POV
Leonard mumbles a half-hearted "Will do" into the phone before hanging up and tucking his phone in his back pocket, his face wary.
I immediately sense tension. "What's wrong?"
Leonard sighs. "Mom wants me to bring you over for dinner this weekend," he mutters, his jaw clenched, a sign that usually indicates stress.
Uh-oh. "And?"
The muscles in his jaw become even tighter. "I'm just not sure of this."
I raise my eyebrows. "And I'm guessing you don't want to go."
Leonard remains silent.
I sigh. "Look, we don't have to stay for long," I tell him. "We can drop by, have a quick bite to eat, and then leave." I don't wait for him to answer. "Okay?"
"Okay…" he hesitantly agrees at last, his shoulders sagging in defeat.
"Just grin and bear it." I wrap my arms around his shoulders and nuzzle my face into his chest, breathing in his scent- a mixture of cologne and men's shampoo. "We can go see the new Star Wars movie after, if you want," I add in a low, seductive purr, knowing that'll do the trick.
Leonard perks up like a dog who's just been offered a treat. "Really?"
I laugh. "Yes. I'll even pay for both of us."
"You're the best," Leonard sighs happily, resting his chin on the crown of my hair.
I smile, closing my eyes and wishing we could stay like this together, forever.
*TBBT TBBT TBBT*The waiting room at Rolling Hills smells like hand soap and lemon-scented floor cleaner. Leonard and I sit side by side in the plastic chairs, him scrolling through Facebook on his phone and me reading a novel. Dr. Phil plays on mute on the mini flat-screen TV hanging in the corner of the wall across the room.
"Leonard and Sophie?" Both of our heads snap up at the sound of Dr. Lambert's voice.
"Come on in," she says, smiling. Leonard puts his phone away and stands, as I do.
Today, Dr. Lambert is wearing a flowy, ankle-length, baby-blue accordion skirt with a pink flower pattern, a pastel-pink sweater, and beige flats. She smiles, her face practically glowing as she leads us to her room. She's changed the room's aesthetic up around quite a bit- new fluffy, lime-colored pillows lie on each sofa arm, a mini cactus sits on the window ledge, and a pink beta fish, the newest addition, swims around aimlessly in a bowl on the rectangular table dividing the couch and Dr. Lambert's desk.
We sit at our usual spots- Leonard and I on the sofa, and Dr. Lambert behind her desk.
"So-" she smiles again, flashing perfect white teeth- "what do we need to discuss today?"
We- as if she's part of our relationship, too. I glance at Leonard, who's staring at the carpeted floor, his leg jiggling and bouncing- he's nervous. I place my hand on his thigh and gently squeeze it, and his leg abruptly stops jiggling.
"Let me rephrase: How are we- you and Leonard- feeling today?" Dr. Lambert tries again, her voice patient and soft. I clear my throat, knowing Leonard is too anxious to speak up. "That's the thing. I'm not so sure? I mean, there's a lot of...tension. Between he and I."
Dr. Lambert nods. "Understandable."
Is it, though? "We're not fighting or arguing or anything," I continue quickly, feeling my face warm for some reason. "The thing is, I feel like there's nothing left to argue about."
Dr. Lambert tilts her head to one side. "Are you feeling hopeless?" she inquires, her gaze imploring.
Leonard laughs a hollow, cold laugh. "You could say that," he states bitterly, speaking up for the first time in an hour. As much as I tried, I couldn't pry a word out of him during our thirty minute drive to the office, so I eventually gave
up, drowning out his exasperated sighs by turning on Aretha Franklin.
Dr. Lambert redirects her attention to Leonard. "You seem angry," she remarks, her tone non-judgmental yet curious.
Leonard sinks back into the sofa, his arms folded tightly over his chest and face blank. "Is there anything specific that you're angry about?"
"I don't know," Leonard mutters, standing up and beginning to pace back and forth. "I don't think I'm angry at anything in particular. I'm just angry at the world in general."
Dr. Lambert nods. "I see," she hums, tucking one of her braids behind her left ear. "Well, have you tried meditating?"
"Meditating?" Leonard echoes incredulously, as if it's the most proprostitious thing he's ever heard.
"Meditating," she confirms, reaching toward her bookshelf and retrieving a big, soft book from off of one of the shelves. "This book has a lot of information on meditation and its benefits, along with other holistic practices you can apply to your everyday life. You don't have to be a Buddhist monk to practice meditation or be in tune with spirit- several other of my co-workers practice it, as well." She smiles when I look taken aback. "It doesn't just help soothe anger- it calms the mind, body, and soul, altogether, and improves concentration. It makes the
world clearer and brighter. I begin and end my day with meditation." She hands me the book, and I take it from her. "If you like, we can try it right now," she adds, smiling gently. Her motherly and caring personality is almost relaxing enough on its own.
"You mean, here?" I look around the room.
"Of course," Dr. Lambert replies matter-of-factly. "Meditation is most beneficial when you're alone in a silent, dark room, but I can accomodate, if you like."
It actually doesn't sound too bad. I nod, then glance at Leonard as an encouragement, and he says hesitantly, "Uh, okay."
Dr. Lambert gets to her feet and draws the blinds, causing the room to darken; only a few shards of light appearing on the walls where the blinds divide. She then goes to her computer and clicks around, then, seconds later, soothing, calm music comes on, followed by a soft female voice, laced with a thick Indian accent, "Hello. Welcome to today's guided meditation. Please find a quiet, comfortable place where you will not be disturbed, and sit, or lie down flat, whatever is your preferred meditation position."
Leonard and I remain on the couch.
"During meditation," Dr. Lambert says, sitting on the floor sitting criss-cross-apple-sauce, "I like to sit up, with my palms facing upward." She demonstrates, straightening her back, relaxing her shoulders, and resting her elbows on her knees and palms out and up toward the ceiling. "It lets the universe know that I am open and ready to receive warmth and light."
Leonard rolls his eyes, clearly not buying it, but I nudge him and mimic Dr. Lambert, and he sighs and follows suit, albeit a bit more awkwardly.
The narrator tells us to take slow, deep breaths, while visualizing a bright white light surrounding us, representing warmth and protection, and, once this is done and our bodies are completely limp and relaxed, we undergo a deep meditation. I'm almost asleep when Dr. Lambert announces that the meditation is over, along with our appointment.
She flips on the lights and opens the blinds. "How do we feel?"
"I don't feel anything," Leonard complains, as skeptical as ever.
"That was amazing," I state in wonder, rubbing my eyes. I feel like I just turned off my body and re-started it again- a totally new, light feeling that I haven't experienced in months.
"Both results are common for first time meditation practitioners," Dr. Lambert reassures us as she opens the door. "Some people may feel an overwhelming sense of joy and relaxation, while others may feel nothing. Both are
valid and normal. We must remember to be patient- it takes time and practice and is something that does not happen overnight."
Leonard and I stand, and I thank her for her time.
"You're welcome." She smiles, handing me the meditation guide book. "Namaste."
"Namaste," I echo, taking it from her, and Leonard and I walk out the building and to the car.
I slide into the passenger seat, and Leonard into the driver's seat. I close my eyes and rest my head against the back of the seat.
On the highway, I open my eyes and look over at Leonard. "So, what do you think?"
"Of what?" His voice sounds flat and emotionless.
"Meditation," I say, stretching my arms. "Do you like it?"
"I don't know," he says doubtfully. "Don't you think it's a little bit…out there?" He mimes the "cuckoo" sign.
"It might, but it also sounds very beneficial," I insist, flipping through the big book. "I felt great in there. Better than I have in a long time."
"Meditation can't fix our relationship," Leonard reminds me gravely.
"No, but it can open the doorway for us to." I remain insistent.
Leonard sighs. "I dunno," he mutters, raking his hands
through his hair. "What if all this is just some New Age mysticism bullshit and she's ripping us off?"
"I don't think so." I shake my head, and find myself relaxing. "I may not know a lot of things. But I think this is for the best."