"You ought to know how the Sheldons are really like."

That sounded incredibly ominous. What was Yuri really up to?

I didn't think the Sheldons would hide many secrets. I mean, I've met Nicole and she seemed like a great person. In fact, the exchange we had made me so happy. Having grown up with practically zero family, I always craved that kind of parental support. Maybe I was getting ahead of myself, but Nicole looked like the kind of mom I would want to have.

I probably needed to stop over-analyzing. My distraction from these thoughts was Nick's complaint to the doctor in front of him.

"Seriously, you don't think I can recognize Peppa Pig? That whistle of a head is a dead giveaway."

The doctor was trying to hold back her laughter too. "Okay, at least you're showing some evidence of facial recognition. How about with human faces?"

She proceeded to show him the photos of some celebrity figures. Nick managed to decipher some correctly, making me a heave a sigh of relief.

"You are starting to learn how to use piecemeal strategies." The doctor noted down.

"Well, I still recognize them by other distinctive traits, like their hair. To me, the faces still look terribly similar."

"So you do need treatment."

Nick rolled his eyes. "I can treat myself. And c'mon, Emma can probably treat me. Right, Emma?"

I chuckled, "Hey, I can't do everything."

The doctor keyed in something into the computer. "Maybe you can try drawing the faces you see. Artistic deciphering therapy is something we're trying out." She showed Nick a face and handed him a pen.

"What, now?" He looked at the paper blankly.

I saw Nick's internal struggle yet again. Sullen, he tried his best to make out its features.

But it was no use...

I hated seeing him so unsure. I hated the gentle quiver of his lip and his casual front. I knew he was hurting inside, and now it was indeed my personal mission to make it stop.

"Actually, you're right." I put my hand over his. "I'll treat him, doc."

"I don't think it works like that —" The doctor started, but I was already muttering a defiant goodbye and sending Nick out of the door.

***

"So, what happened to Jaslyn's place?" Nick asked with an amused glint in his eyes. I had daringly instructed him to drive the both of us to his house, and was already inviting myself in as if I lived here too.

I went straight to his kitchen and picked up a single chopstick from the drawer. Next, I wrapped my hair around my fingers and stuck the chopstick in to hold it in place. Without a word, I dragged Nick into the room.

"What?" He asked, as I sat him down onto a chair. I disappeared out of the door again and found a black marker.

"I have so many questions right now." He said honestly as I turned him around. I rolled out another chair and wheeled it towards him, then positioned myself behind the glass divider that hung in place.

I passed the marker to him. "Go ahead. Draw me."

"So that's what this was for?" He stared at the marker and me through the glass, still confused.

"Mmhmm. Your therapy starts today. Good evening Mr Sheldon, Dr Trinket at your service." I mocked.

He shook his head, and muttered something that sounded horribly like, "I cannot believe the image I just had in mind."

Anyway, he obediently put a marker to the glass. He looked at me, and then back at the empty glass again.

"Just the outline." I encouraged him patiently. "You can do it."

He took another deep breath and tried. He drew my jawline, and then stopped. "Emma, I'm so sorry. I can't... I don't know the details."

I smiled, "Hey, it's okay." I reached around the glass and took his hand lightly. "I got you."

I used the mirror behind him as a guide, and brought his hand up to the glass. I started with finishing the face shape, and then starting on the eyes.

"Nick, do you know what color my eyes are?"

"Green." He replied. "That much I know. Your eyes are like the Aurora Australis in Antarctica."

"Look at you, using all those big terms." I chuckled, as we traced above my eyes. "And now, my eyebrows. My eyebrows are amazing, by the way. Just saying, better than yours."

He protested with a laugh, comparing the arch. Next, when we reached my right side, he saw my hesitation.

"I have a scar on my right eyebrow."

Nick pointed to his own. "I have one too. See?"

I shook my head. "Not like that. You were born with yours. Mine was — inflicted on me." I winced at the thought.

He gripped our intertwined hands tighter. "That doesn't make you any less beautiful."

I huffed, letting the moment pass. "Well, yeah. And you have to accept my imperfections anyway. It's just who I am."

He grinned, and then it was down to the nose. We traced its curvature. I was beginning to notice that he was taking more control of the marker now, perhaps subconsciously. I grinned. It was working.

"This one, I'm familiar." He said smugly as we were down to my lips. With nearly full control, he could trace out the plumpness and thinness of it in its entirety.

We were done. I retracted my hand, and sat back in awe. Truthfully, he did a great job. Maybe in part because he was actually an artist— he seemed like he could draw well. "See, that wasn't too hard, was it?"

I pressed my head to the glass, teasing him. "Can you recognize me now?"

But Nick wasn't laughing as much as I was. His face was unreadable. I sensed the tension, and stopped cracking up.

"Nick?"

He caved all at once and reached for me behind the glass. "Oh, Emma."

My lips parted. He always had that kind of effect on me.

I let him take the handlebars of my roller chair and pull me to him, gently. I bumped into his chair rather ungracefully, but it didn't matter. He scooped me up so I was on his lap, leaning over him ever so slightly.

I felt it involuntarily dig into me, and I knew he was trying to hide it. If only he knew how much I liked that crystal clear indication.

There was something in me that called to him. Never before have I wanted someone so much.

He reached up to my hair and pulled out the chopstick so the hair fell around me. It covered us like a curtain, enveloping us as I arched above him.

"I'm really falling for you, Emma." He whispered, touching my face, feeling on the features and nooks and crannies that he traced.

I sucked in a breath as he touched me, that trace slowly undoing me. He was well aware of what it was doing to me, a small smirk prominent on his face.

Me too. I want to whisper, but any more and my voice would crack and the emotions would pour out.

I used that raw emotion to drive me next. I could see his eyes turning dark, and knew he was restraining himself from going further, for the sake of me. But I felt differently.

I finally returned his gestures and brought him closer to me, my lips at his ear. My voice dropped to a quiet whisper.

"Then fall for me harder."