[OLD FIC] (DISCONTINUED) Sheldon Cooper x Reader .:The Love Theorem:.

Chapter Eight: Sleepy Rage

(Okay so after some intense research I've realized that Sheldon's knocking is often times not always the same amount, like in one clip he'd knock 4 times, in 3 bursts. And in other clips he'll knock 3 times in 3 bursts. The general consensus is that it is 3 knocks though. So I think for coherency's sake i'm going to stick with 3 and change up any of the extra knocks in other chapters).

Soft rays of sunlight trickled through cream coloured blinds, into the dark room. The faint chirping of birds started out calming but the calm snowballed into annoyance very quickly.

You slowly awoke, a prominent grimace plastered across your face. You sat up wiping the sleep from your eyes, turning to gaze at your alarm clock.

8:40 AM

Right, 8:40...

You slowly sunk back down into your bed, pulling your covers and pillow over your head, in a futile attempt to block out the noise. Feeling the familiar arms of sleep engulfing you, nurturing you back into your once peaceful comatose state.

Shit's too fucking early, sleep sounds great.

Then you heard it. You had been wanting to hear it, since the last encounter. Any time was fine with you.

JUST NOT RIGHT FUCKING NOW

*knockknockknock*

[Y/N]

*knockknockknock*

[Y/N]

*knockknockknock*

[Y/N]

You heard the knocks, you heard your name.

You didn't budge. Your eye's started to close, and you felt yourself drifting off to sweet, sweet sleep. The knocks persisted, but you didn't care. You just wanted a few more minutes right? He could just wait a few more minutes. Yeah, just a few.

.

.

.

Okay so maybe now it was getting a bit much.

The knocking persisted,

OH HOW IT PERSISTED.

It was like a pounding in your head at this point, sitting up once more to give a fleeting gaze to your alarm clock.

8:43am

Three minutes. He broke you in THREE minutes.

You swiveled your body around so that your legs were now hanging off the bed. Tentatively you let your toes descend down to the cold floor awaiting. Your feet becoming ice cold on contact.

fuck it's cold. why is it cold?

The knocking was unbearable at this point. Does he ever give up? You stood from your bed, sauntering out of your room, past your kitchen to the front door. You kept a mirror beside your door for "emergency touch ups" as you approached your door you glanced at the mirror, you inspected your sleepy body.

You were disheveled that's for sure. [H/L] [H/C] strands shooting off into all directions, criss-crossing, and tangling. You didn't care. You worse a [F/C] hoodie and sweatpants. You didn't care.

Feeling satisfied with your outfit of the day, you continued towards the door. You fumbled to grab the knob a few times, before finally getting a solid grip on it. You turned the knob opening the door to it's fullest. You stared at the floor with half lidded eyes, slowly trailing up to meet your visitors gaze.