JJ: DespondencyMature

Rollar and I lay in my - well, our - bed. She was sulking, I could tell, no doubt about the dinner she'd made for us. I couldn't really explain why I'd needed her so badly like that. Listening to Dr. Browne go on and on about my childhood, and my pre-teen years to try and figure out why I was the way I was could really stress a guy out, and the only way I know how to relax is... Well, sex.

"Thank you," I said, kissing her jaw once.  I moved to wrap my arms around her.

"Get off," she said, standing up and looking down at me. "Why, Jaimie? I wanted to have a nice meal but, no, we had to get into bed. Can't we have one day without sleeping together?"

I was slightly surprised by this. I mean... I thought...

I sat up, crossing my legs. "I spent an hour talking with my psychiatrist about my 'old habits'," I told her.

"So what? You ruined the night I had planned! You're such a child, Jaimie, having to get over something with sex!" she almost shouted at me.

I flinched at her words. If she noticed it, she didn't show it. Her words reflected what Dr. Browne had told me earlier.

"If you really must know, last year I was diagnosed with hypersexuality, Rollar. Sex is my answer to everything," I muttered. She was the first person I'd told. Not even Carter knew that his suspicions had been confirmed.

She sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, burying her face in her hands. "I want you to show me that you love me, Jaimie. Not just treat me as a sex object" she whispered.

I moved over to her. "Then tell me how."

"I was trying to do that with the meal. It will be stone cold now."

"Then let me take you out somewhere."

"I don't want to go out, Jaimie. Especially not now that my legs feel like jelly."

I sat quietly for a few moments. "I would cook for you, but the extent of my cooking abilities is putting something in the microwave," I muttered.

When I'd lived with my parents, there had been staff to do that for me, and Carter had always cooked for us when I'd lived with him. If he'd ever been away in the north with his family, I would get takeaway.

"I'll just heat everything back up," she said quietly, grabbing my shirt and pulling it on before heading back downstairs.

I stayed still for a few moments before getting up, grabbing another shirt and pulling on some jeans. I headed downstairs and into the kitchen. Rollar was heating up the food silently.

"I'm sorry," I said as sincerely as I could.

"I know," she whispered.

Then the phone rang and I knew there was only one person it would be.

I went back out into the hall and answered it.

"Hey, Carter," I said, slightly despondently, into the phone.

The End

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