Izzy and Amy

Amy was alone in her room, sitting at her desk and staring at a piece of paper. She needed to try a written exercise suggested by her campus-assigned counselor. Though she understood the instructions, the words refused to come. Irate with the expanse of nothingness, she seized a pen and wrote 'Belief System Processing Exercise,' as if naming the activity would spur her brain into action.

Her emotions since learning Izzy's history with Shauna were varied, powerful, and difficult to process. She understood her anger towards Shauna, the pain of knowing what Izzy had suffered, and even the grief for how things might have been between them if he and Shauna never dated. What she didn't understand was her jealousy towards Shauna, and, even worse, the simmering anger directed at Izzy.

What is wrong with me? Amy's eyes pinched shut tight as shame overwhelmed her. She acknowledged that Izzy hurt her several times, mostly by pushing her away, maintaining distance between them to protect himself, and generally running hot and cold as her boyfriend. She knew it was natural to be upset about that, but it was in the past now. Why was it that when Izzy finally opened up and showed her his wounds, she became so angry with him?

Amy took a long breath, then wiped her eyes. Posing these agonized questions was getting her nowhere. She folded the paper into three equal columns, then labeled the first 'instigating event.' The middle column was 'belief system processing,' and the last was 'resulting emotion.' Before counseling, Amy thought that events caused emotions. According to her counselor, there was a step in between, where her belief system processed an event and produced an emotion. Individuals had distinct belief systems, which was why people could respond to the same stimulus so differently.

The trouble was, Amy didn't know where to start. All she knew for sure was how she felt, so she moved to the third column and wrote 'jealous' and 'angry.'

The jealousy seemed more straightforward, so Amy focused on that and moved to the instigating event column. After several mental drafts, she wrote, Shauna was able to easily start a relationship with Izzy and have sex with him. Then, she hurt him so much that he was afraid to trust someone new romantically. That has caused me so much pain.

Her eyes welled up again. Irritated, Amy tore a tissue from the box on her desk and dabbed them, trying to ignore the stinging. When she wrote it out, it was clear that both emotions were caused by the same instigator, more or less. She circled the first sentence about Shauna dating Izzy at his most trusting and connected it to the emotion of 'jealousy' with an arrow. Then she circled the last two sentences and connected them to 'angry.'

That left the mawing column of belief system processing empty between the other two. How was she supposed to tackle this bit? Everything that came to mind sounded so whiny, so petty. Why did Shauna get a trusting Izzy, and not me? I shouldn't be punished because I want to love Izzy, but I came second. This relationship shouldn't be so difficult because of damage someone else did. Everything Shauna did is supposed to be in the past, but it's not, not when the damage remains. Not when it makes fresh wounds on me!

As embarrassing as it was, Amy wrote it all, until the blank middle column was packed. And, again, seeing it in writing, it was clear where the beliefs that led her to be jealous of Shauna shifted to the beliefs that made her angry with Izzy.

Under that ranting diatribe, Amy wrote, Why did Izzy choose to allow his trauma to hurt me?

And this time, when her eyes flooded, Amy smooshed her face on her crossed arms and cried.

XXX

Izzy stared at his mobile, rereading Amy's texts. She had asked him to come to her room, and something about the wording made it clear that she wasn't looking to cuddle or play video games. When he arrived at her suite, he pocketed his phone, let himself in, and knocked on Amy's door.

Amy answered and closed the door behind him. He stepped into her, reaching for her face. The skin around her eyes was red, inflamed. "Have you been crying?"

"I'm fine," Amy sighed, folding him in her arms. "I just... I need to talk, if that's okay?"

"Of course." Izzy hoped he didn't look wary. Amy told him about Shauna cornering her in the music practice hallway, and about the deal she struck with her: silence in exchange for silence. It rattled him that Shauna had chased Amy down, but he wasn't surprised. Amy's quick thinking and ability to hone in on what Shauna would respond to didn't surprise him either, but he sure as hell appreciated both. And he couldn't help wondering, with some satisfaction, how Shauna felt when she realized that she was dealing with someone who saw through her acting skills and charm, had a rough understanding of her motivations, and could outmaneuver her in conversation.

Without the control she exerted through acting skill, charisma, and positive reputation, Shauna's only choice was to yield. And Izzy believed that she would hold up her end of Amy's deal if it meant that she received what she so desperately wanted: for her mask to remain intact, for no one to know where she came from and what she did to escape.

In short, the Shauna situation was over, done. Except… Except it wasn't. Every hurt she inflicted on Izzy remained, some processed and beginning to heal, many still raw and shining red, some still bleeding. And since he told Amy his story, she seemed a bit off. First quiet, distant even when she was beside him. Then, as more days passed… She seemed stiff, like she was irritated with him, but didn't want to show it. He thought he was imagining it at first- but suddenly, those impressions seemed much more reliable.

"Shall we sit?" Izzy asked, hoping he didn't sound too formal. "Where is Sora?"

"She's at the gym. She said she'll be a while." Amy led him to her bed, but stopped to pick up a sheet of paper from her desk. Izzy slid into bed with her and cozied up to fit. They leaned against the headboard, propped up by pillows.

Amy handed him the paper. "I know I'm supposed to talk to my counselor about my family and all of that, but we only get a few free sessions before she recommends a therapist for me. So I've been talking about... You know. Shauna."

Izzy suppressed a sigh. "I understand why you'd want to talk about that with a counselor. But she's going to select a therapist for you among the ones that come to campus based on your history. Please, be sure to tell her about yourself."

Amy blinked, then managed a tiny, tired smile. "Geez, yeah, you're right. I will." Izzy nodded, relieved by her easy agreement.

Amy cleared her throat. "So, um... That paper. I told my counselor that I had emotions I didn't understand after... After you talked to me about Shauna. She suggested this belief processing system exercise, and, um..."

Amy wrapped her arm around his shoulders and clung to his far upper arm. "Could, could you read it? It would be faster than me trying to explain."

Perplexed, worried, but mostly curious (as always), Izzy nodded and unfolded the paper. It was separated into three columns, each labeled. Sentences were circled and directed with arrows, and Izzy stared, struggling to make sense of it. Amy explained how the exercise worked, then fell abruptly silent, like muting a television.

Izzy read, following events to feelings, with a wad of raw hurt in between. He sucked in a breath, and Amy squished him against her even harder.

"I, I'm sorry," Amy whispered. "I know it's not fair. I understand why you... Why you treated me the way you did sometimes. I understand now, so I should be more forgiving, not less, but-"

"Amy." Izzy spoke so softly that he barely heard himself, but Amy flinched and fell silent. Izzy drew a deep, long breath. It seemed like he needed all the oxygen in the world to speak.

"Please, don't apologize. It's true that my last relationship was traumatic, and I admire that you are able to approach my mistakes more gently because you understand that. But trauma is never an excuse for hurting others- that's true for both Shauna and me. I regret hurting you, but I'm grateful that you're trusting me with how you truly feel."

Amy's free hand, the one that wasn't a vice against his shoulder, gripped his wrist. "W-What do you- What?"

Izzy ripped his eyes away from the visceral description of Amy's pain- the pain he had created. He concentrated his strength and tenderness into a smile that had to look vulnerable- but it was the best he could manage.

"Forgive me, but… If your parents hurt you, and you attempted to express your pain to them... How would they respond?"

She twitched, and Izzy twitched in sympathy- or maybe just because it rocked into him through her grip on both his arms. Traces of color rouged her cheeks as her mouth opened, shut, opened, shut. "I can't remember when I last tried," she finally managed.

Izzy nodded. "I saw what happened when your father destroyed your book. You said nothing, but looking upset was enough for him to scold you, to shift blame to you. And that was a physical thing- there was clear proof of the damage. It must have been much easier for him to point fingers and attack you when there wasn't tangible evidence- when he said something hurtful, for example."

Amy looked vulnerable, almost younger, like a child anticipating a blow. Though her face was stiff as a statue's, her eyes were alive with fear and resignation. Izzy dropped the paper and cupped her cheek. "It's alright," he breathed. "Please- it's alright. I understand now that, growing up, you had no choice but to swallow your feelings to avoid escalation. And, when I first pushed you away, after our..."

Izzy paused. Was the roller skating rink their first date, or was it Halloween, the day they officially got together? Well, technically, that was probably November first, given the late hour-

Izzy caught his mind hurtling in random directions and guided it back on track. "After the first time we went out, to the skating rink. I treated you so coldly, and yet... You barely reacted. And while I certainly admire a forgiving attitude, your lack of anger or frustration... It worried me. I wondered... How often do you allow yourself to be hurt, and just shrug it off?"

Amy's silence and tense staring were growing unnerving. Izzy picked up the paper, opened it, and placed it where both of them could read it. "You came to me with this, Amy. You're willingly showing me emotions that most people would consider negative. I know you well enough to recognize this as an immense display of trust. And now that I know how you feel... Now, we can work towards a solution."

Amy exhaled, and it shuddered down her body. She released him at last, and Izzy ignored the urge to shake his stiff shoulders out. He watched Amy wipe her eyes, then offered her his hand. She burrowed her fingers between his and clung.

"That's... really kind of you," she said, breaking her silence at last. "Like- really, truly kind. I- thank you."

Izzy stared, unsure how to parse her words. He considered himself neither kind nor cruel- someone with no desire to cause damage, but who inevitably did, thanks to genuine social misunderstandings and an inclination towards occasional pissiness. What was he supposed to think of Amy's words, let alone say in response?

"I want to be kind to you," he offered. "And I'm sorry for the times I've failed."

"I know. You've always apologized, and I thought... I thought I accepted your apologies and moved on. And I don't understand what I want from you? You told me everything, and you're getting help from the counselors. Why am I choosing now to be so... so mad?"

"I believe you," Izzy began, selecting words with care. "But you don't seem angry." He lifted their joined hands to demonstrate.

Sighing, Amy pulled their hands towards her and kissed his knuckles. "I'm not, uh, livid. It's more like... resentment? And I don't like it. I don't want it. I want to work it out- although it has to be a me problem, and I don't even know what... What I'm asking of you?"

Izzy ran his thumb along her pointer finger as he considered. "My understanding is that resentment forms over time, when problems go unaddressed. And, forgive me, but I suspect you've pushed down plenty of frustration and anger with me. I suppose... It makes sense that it became visible now, when you began sorting your feelings with a professional. And maybe- Maybe it's because I finally trusted you with my story that you were able to be so vulnerable with me. I- I'm sorry it took me so long. You told me about your ex ages ago."

Izzy paused. As always, his neurons sparked, sending signals leaping across his brain, connecting thoughts into images, then reassembling into new ones. Ideas manifested seemingly from nothing, whispering:

Amy's inability to place any blame on Tai, Matt, or even Jerry for what happened on prom night, her desire to condemn only herself... There was something there, something connected to what was happening now. Or, rather, this was a divergence. Amy seemed to genuinely think that sparing others from blame was a good thing, but it bred resentment. And, while they had functioning relationships, prom night strained something between Amy, Tai, and Matt, and lingered on to this day.

Izzy couldn't understand everything about that situation, the psychology, the exact feelings of all the involved parties. All he knew was that he couldn't allow whatever it was to take root between him and Amy. They would fix it. They had to- Izzy needed it.

"Is something lingering from our discussion about Shauna?" Izzy murmured. "Or is it simply that emotions can't vanish at will? I- I understand that my history with my ex was difficult to listen to, and that… Our current relationship was- and is- impacted by that history." He tapped the middle column, Amy's pain contained in tiny space. "This… it's a lot to process, and I don't think it's fair to push yourself to forgive and forget in an instant." Especially not when the damage lived on- something Izzy was palpably aware of, but struggling to mend.

"You're so kind," Amy murmured. "I- I don't want to pick apart your story. I know it was hard to tell-"

"Amy, please. We have to clear this up."

Amy stared at him, but her eyes didn't take on that dreamy glaze. She looked exhausted, unable to tap into whatever instincts she usually called on when in need of information. "There were two things about your story that didn't… add up. The first was just that you… I don't know, you seemed to be… Acting shifty, sometimes?"

Izzy's lips twitched into a smile, there and gone, a brief display of wry amusement. Of course Amy noticed his editing. Why had he ever thought he could get away with it? "I was avoiding mentioning sex," he admitted. "I didn't want to upset you- but clearly, it would have been wiser to be upfront."

"I thought so," Amy sighed. "Which leads me to my other point, I guess. Um- You've always told me that you're not… Not a very physical person, that you don't think about attraction or sex often. But- but it kind of sounded like you and your ex were… All, all over… each other."

Which was exactly the impression I wanted to avoid. Amy's paper crinkled as his hand tensed. Swallowing a sigh, Izzy placed it on his lap. He couldn't conceive of a way to say this without… Well, without saying things he'd rather not say.

"When Shauna first approached me, I didn't notice that she's… conventionally attractive. I knew she was, from overhearing other students say so. Still, it didn't hit me until-"

Until they were alone in his room, and she had stripped naked, and she was stripping him and smiling like a sphinx, with secrets she would intimately share. That first time was a system shock of hormones and new sensations. It was like leaping into freezing water, except that everything went electric instead of numb.

Speaking of numb, he was losing feeling in the hand Amy held. "But you were attracted to her."

"Yes," Izzy admitted. What else could he do? Lie? "Your emphasis is correct, however. It's past tense; I no longer find her such."

Amy's long hair fell over her shoulder as her head tipped down, blocking his view of her face. "I don't… Look like her. At all."

"I don't want you to," Izzy said, with genuine relief. "I hate to say so, but these days, I tend to distrust beautiful, charismatic girls on sight. I hope I never said anything callous out loud, but I was mentally uncharitable to Mimi in the beginning of our acquaintance, for example."

Amy released his tingling hand, which should have been a relief- but all comfort was dashed by the devastation on her face. "But- That means you didn't think I was beautiful or charismatic- and that you noticed Mimi is!"

"I wasn't attracted to her," Izzy sputtered, because it was the first truth his panicked lizard brain offered. "I'm attracted to you- and I find you charming. I always have- you charmed me from the start, despite... Despite all my baggage."

Slowly, the hurt sloughed from Amy's face- although Izzy wasn't sure how to name what replaced it. "Did you- you liked me from the start?"

The hysterical alarm of having verbally immolated himself faded enough for Izzy to feel the weight of his words. You charmed me from the start. He hadn't forgotten using that word as a 'safe' way to describe how he felt about Amy, both to Joe and himself. It wasn't the beginnings of intimacy, it wasn't a pull he couldn't ignore. She was merely charming, just someone whose company he enjoyed.

How ironic that, even then, he chose a word that suggested being under someone else's power.

"I- I was drawn to you," Izzy admitted, seeing no option for backtracking. "Irresistibly, it seemed. That had never happened before, so it... It frightened me, especially after my last relationship. Instinctively, I seemed to know that... If things went poorly with you, it, it would be… devastating."

After a long, loaded pause, Amy asked, "Do you want me?" When Izzy twitched, she hurried on, "It seems like you were physical early on in your last relationship. We've been together nearly a year, now. And I know we both have stuff to work through, but I can't help thinking- maybe you don't want me after all. And, and that scares me, because I- I want you so much. And I know I'm not pretty, not like..."

"No, you're beautiful," Izzy interrupted. That halted the flow of Amy's anxious babbling, but she recovered before Izzy could decide what to say next.

"I'm not. Like, objectively, I don't think I'm… Ugly? But I'm not, not… Not like my friends."

Izzy welded his jaws in the shut position, forcing himself to consider his words before he shoved his foot down his throat again. His first thought was to point out that he couldn't compare to Matt in terms of appearance, but regardless, he was clearly the person Amy wanted to date. Upon examination, he realized that this could easily be taken as evidence that he found Mimi, Sora, and Hana more beautiful than Amy. It also occurred to Izzy that he knew Amy wanted him… But he rarely provided reassurance that he wanted her. And when he did, it was often in response to her advances, or because he was desperate to smooth things over after flubbing something.

Why am I such an ass? Izzy knew Amy was sensitive about all of this, about her appearance, about feeling undesirable, about how he actually felt about her. Joe went out of his way to warn him that Shauna was an intimidating ex to follow, especially for someone who struggled with confidence.

His eyes prickled, and Izzy realized with horror that he wanted to cry. Why did Amy bother with him? Why did she want a boy who couldn't say that he loved her, who couldn't be physically intimate with her, who couldn't even make it clear that he wanted that intimacy? Apologies flooded his thoughts, a million words to acknowledge what he lacked, to beg clemency.

That won't help. Apologies have never taken away the damage. Even worse, if I bring this up now… Instead of talking about what she is going through at last, Amy will switch to soothing me. Again. For the millionth time.

After almost a year of inaction, words held little power. And often, it was far better to act than to speak. Izzy felt useless when he couldn't say anything to help Amy when they visited her parents, but everyone assured him that removing her was worth far more than a senseless argument with the Donahues. Wit couldn't help then, and it couldn't help now. Doing what he could, offering what he could…

"You're beautiful," Izzy repeated. "It was foolish of me not to notice right away- but I see it now. I have for a long time, and I've wanted you for a long time. And now... You've mentioned taking baby steps towards sex before. If you're willing, I'd like to make plans with you at my house this weekend."

And finally, Izzy knew exactly what she was feeling; the astonishment on her face couldn't be misinterpreted. "I'm sorry," he murmured, pushing past the shame to do what needed doing. "This whole time, all I've offered is excuses and explanations. But now- I'm ready, if you are. I'd like to make an actionable plan with you."

"This, this weekend?" Amy squeaked. The color rushing to her cheeks stirred a strange sensation, something almost predatory- although Izzy would far sooner hurt himself than Amy. After confused analysis, Izzy realized that Amy was flustered, excited, eager. The guilt and remorse evaporated, and suddenly, he was free to focus on the pleasure of giving, and finding his offering keenly desired.

"Is that agreeable?" Izzy asked, aware that his smile was edging into smirk territory.

"Um!" Amy grabbed a section of her hair and began finger combing it- but her wide eyes remained locked on his. "I, I- Do your parents mind if you-"

Izzy placed a hand on her knee beneath the covers. "They don't mind. When I was in high school, my parents told me that they know teens will do... what they will. They said that if I was discrete and used protection, then it was don't ask, don't tell. My solution back then was to wait until they were out of the house. But recently, my father said that the point of the suite is for me have privacy and my own space- my home inside our home."

Her hand froze mid motion, leaving fingers entangled in hair. "Why are your parents so cool?!"

"I'm lucky. However, there is logic behind their decisions, as well as kindness. If teens have to sneak around to have sex, then they could place themselves in dangerous or uncomfortable situations- and they might resort to unprotected sex if a rare opportunity arises." Which was a situation Izzy was intensely grateful to have avoided with Shauna. "Furthermore, my parents and I genuinely value each other's company. They want me to feel comfortable and respected, so they keep my needs in mind and offer me that respect."

Amy sighed, finished a final pass through her hair, and said, "That's true... Nothing makes you want to go home like being told what you can and can't do at age nineteen."

From just one visit to the Donahue house, Izzy knew that was the least of Amy's worries at home, but he had no desire to sidetrack their conversation. "Are you interested?" he asked, rerouting to the point.

"Y-yeah, of course!" The words came in a rush, as if she feared he might otherwise rescind. "But- But, I'm a little nervous-"

"Baby steps," Izzy said gently. "We won't do anything you aren't ready for."

Amy scooted into him and pulled him into her in one motion, making him grunt. "I know. I trust you. But, um... I, I'm a little... I don't know if I..."

"Amy," Izzy murmured. He wrapped an arm around her back, and she sighed and dropped her head on his shoulder.

"I'm scared to undress," she admitted. "I... I'm not... Slim, or, or... Pretty."

Izzy sensed that anything he said would be merely a drop in the river of impressions and ideas Amy already had about her body. Rather than arguing, he said, "I find you beautiful- but your comfort is paramount. If you're not ready to undress, then you don't have to. There are plenty of ways around that."

"What do you mean?" Amy asked. Izzy stood and went to her desk, grateful that she dropped the topic of despairing over her body.

"May I borrow your laptop?" Amy nodded, so he grabbed her pink netbook and returned to bed. He opened an incognito browser and typed 'lingerie' into the search bar.

"Izzy!" Amy gasped. He grinned, but ignored her protest. He selected a few sites and placed the netbook between them, half on his lap, half on hers.

"I, I won't look good in these," she stammered. Izzy glanced at the sets onscreen, looked at her, and cocked an eyebrow.

"Disagree," was his assessment. Amy smacked his shoulder, but grinned.

"I don't know anything about this! What style do you think is cute?"

"I certainly have opinions," Izzy allowed. He noticed that his pitch had increased, cleared his throat, and continued, "But our goal is to find something that will make you feel comfortable. I assume you'll want a certain amount of coverage."

"Um..." At last, Amy seemed to focus enough to consider her options. She tugged the computer closer and scrolled through the offerings on one site, then another.

"I think this could work." Amy clicked on a negligee resembling a camisole made of silky fabric and lace. Izzy swallowed hard when he noticed the options for matching panties and stockings. It wasn't as daring as most of the sets, but Izzy had exactly zero complaints about Amy wearing that in his bed.

"Oh- There's a matching robe," Izzy pointed out. "You could wear that, if needed."

"Um…" Sensing her hesitance, Izzy glanced at Amy. She nibbled her lower lip. "It's expensive..."

Izzy nearly laughed. As if price would deter him! "It would be my distinct pleasure to treat you."

Amy grinned, but her brow remained furrowed. "I'm serious," Izzy said gently. "I'm truly sorry for... Well, for everything I've done to make you feel this way." He picked up Amy's written exercise. "Thank you for coming to me with this. By opening this conversation, you've given me the chance to work things out. I'll do everything I can to support you, with genuine pleasure."

Izzy watched her, struggling to understand her signals. Why did she seem so hesitant, after looking so interested before? The lingerie wasn't that pricey. "Izzy- I appreciate that. But I- I just- We- We're really doing this?"

Ah. It would seem that, after almost a year of waiting, Amy wasn't sure if he really wanted to do this. After all, baby steps were still progress, still the start of a journey, with all the implications therein. Izzy thought he understood how important this was when he made the offer, but suddenly… Suddenly, he wasn't sure that there was a scale to adequately weigh all the emotions, connotations, and potential ramifications.

After long consideration, during which Amy watched him uneasily, he murmured, "Yes. If you'll have me."

Amy sucked in a breath. Her color heightened again, and she shifted, suggesting that she wanted to get up and move. "Of, of course. Um- Um- Luh, let's keep looking?"

She seized the laptop and started scrolling, and Izzy clamped his mouth shut to contain a laugh. He watched fondly as she zipped by the items, clearly seeing nothing. While he appreciated that she considered the idea of intimacy with him tizzy-inducing, it was probably best not to allow her to linger there.

And so, he gently removed Amy's hand from the trackpad and moved the cursor to the most scandalous lingerie onscreen. "How about this one?"

"Izzy!" Her screech quickly dissolved into hysterical laughter. "Zeus, where's the rest of it?!"

"No?" Izzy asked, grinning. "How about this one?"

"Izzy, nooooo!"

And he teased her through the entire collection, until she told him in no uncertain terms to be serious before she bought nothing but robes.

Author's Note:

We can do this one of two ways, and I need your input!

Option 1.) We temporarily leave Four Years right here, with this chapter. When Four Years returns after I work on Tri: Integrity Lens for a few months, the narration will briefly explain what happened and how Amy/Izzy feel about it.

Option 2.) I write one more chapter showing Izzy and Amy taking their sexy first steps, then the hiatus.

I kinda figure that Okaeri exists, if you wanna see some physical intimacy between Koushiro and Eimi. I don't wanna, like… Beat a dead horse? But maybe people like the sexy contents, or you guys think Izzy/Amy are different enough to warrant a chapter?

I don't know what I'm doing, so I haven't started the next update. Whatever I end up working on, it might take an extra week or two.

Let me know ASAP so I can either start writing the FY bit or the next TIL chapter! If this ends up being the last FY chapter in a while, I will see you either right away (over at TIL) or in a few months, back here! Thank you all for reading FY, even after a three year hiatus! This could be the last update for a bit, so it's a phenomenal time to leave a review to hype me on for the return.

Mwah!