For the Love of Science

By Miss Moo.

I'm not stupid, okay?

We were standing in my small, messy dorm room and Luke was leaning over me all charming like - and I knew that it was only the phenyl ethylamine that made me feel this way. I knew that it was the release of adrenaline that sent the blood rushing away from my stomach leaving a soft, fluttery feeling in its wake. I knew that the only reason he smelt so goddamned edible was because his immune system was highly compatible with mine.

I also knew that I wasn't itching to touch him because I actually wanted to touch him. It was just the norepinephren talking.

It was my own fault really. I shouldn't have let him hang around with me long enough to let the serotonin seep into my brain and kick start those ideas of being at ease and... trusting him.

It was crazy, really, because I knew all that. I wasn't stupid. Yet I still felt my skin contract into shivers - the adrenaline, I'm sure - as he leant in closer.

"Lucy?" he asked, and my eyes widened. Stupid adrenaline.

"Ah- um, yeah?" I stuttered frantically.

"I'm going to kiss you now," he sounded like he was talking to a small child. The serotonin was relaxing me again, and I fought against the consuming urge to melt into his arms. His lovely strong arms. Near his lovely, firm, triangularly composed chest. It was no wonder my substantia nigra was having a field day producing all that dopamine.

Then he leant in. My eyes were fixed on the way his dark hair flopped slightly in front of his eyes, he was getting close. Too close. I couldn't watch.

So I shut my eyes. And maybe leant forward too. Just a little. Not because I wanted to kiss him or anything. I only leant forward because... because... well, I might have wanted to kiss him too. Just a little.

And I might have wanted to have his babies too. Just a little.

Stupid chemicals. I was smarter than th- Oooh.

His lips were really soft. Gentle. I felt surges of serotonin, norepinephren, dopamine and possibly some oxytocin take over my body and turn it into some kind of sex-crazed monster. Before I knew what I was doing my mind had clouded over in a chemically induced haze and I was groping and petting and... moaning?

Or was that Luke?

I couldn't tell anymore. I didn't really care anymore.

I ran my fingers through his silky, dark brown hair and reveled in the feeling my nerves carried to my parietal lobe. God, that felt good.

Eventually he pulled away with a satisfied smirk. I felt my peripheral capillaries to expand and allow for a flush of blood to flow to the surface of my skin.

"You're blushing," Luke commented, still smirking.

I narrowed my eyes at him, "Only because my vasodilators were stimulated."

His smirk only got bigger, "You kissed me."

Oh God. He had to go there.

"Th-that was just phenyl ethylamine... and norepinephren and serotonin and dopamine and-"

"And oxtytocin and vasopressin?" he asked innocently.

"Yes! What? No!" I realized a fraction too slow that he had just listed the infamous 'monogamy drugs'. He'd really been spending too much time with me.

"Lots and lots of vasopressin," he teased, and leant in closer.

Then I might have let him kiss me again. Only twice though.

"No, no, no, no, no," I said once my brain had started to function again, "you can't just kiss me."

"Why not?" Luke asked, but he didn't seem fazed.

"B-because it's rude. And I don't want you to kiss me."

"Is that why you kissed me back, then? Because you didn't want to kiss me?"

Blood was rushing to my face again. How embarrassing.

"Ha! I don't... that wasn't even... Pfft, I mean," I searched feebly for a light hearted excuse, but as you can tell, failed miserably.

Then it hit me. It was just science.

So I told him that; 'It was just science', and he laughed.

"What's so funny about science?" I demanded.

"Nothing," he said, but was still chuckling.

"Well it's true. Just because I subconsciously recognize that you're a good genetic mate and my body..." I paused, looking for the right word, "...responds to those genetics doesn't mean that Iwant to kiss you. My complementary genetics and social upbringing want to kiss you. Not me."

"Lucy," he said, and I could tell he was serious now, "I don't care how much you relate this to electrodes and dopamine and pheromones, and I don't care how true any of that stuff is. It actually only proves my point further. We'd be great for each other. I say so, science says so, hell, even my mother says so! So why are you fighting me on this?"

I looked down, even more embarrassed than before.

"Because Karen Smithers said that I'm too nerdy for you," I mumbled into my shirt.

Luke's jaw became a little tense,but he didn't move from his position in front of me. I was glad because his arms were really warm around my waist. Not because I wanted his arms wrapped around me or anything. I mean, I did, but I couldn't because Karen Smithers was going to ask him out and she was like, the prettiest first year psyc. undergrad. She gave out more pheromones than Brittney Spears and three of the Pussy Cat Dolls wound together around one big strippers pole. Pardon my poor analogy.

"What did she say to you?" Luke asked, and his voice was really commanding. A foolish part of me didn't want to tell him just in case he did want to go out with Karen. I was too selfish sometimes.

I sighed, "Just that I shouldn't get my hopes up because she was pretty sure you were going to ask her out and she didn't want me to get my hurt."

Luke looked distant for a moment.

"So?" I asked hesitantly, "Are you?"

He gave me a blank look.

"I mean, are you going to ask her out?"

A look of disgust flashed across his face and I was relieved.

"Hell no," he said, "Karen's a bitch."

"Oh," I said, and I couldn't control my grin. Sometimes I let my amygdala do all the thinking for me.

"For an aspiring neurologist you're pretty thick Lucy," I was rightfully offended by this, "I've been trying to get you to go out with me for months and you believe Karen Smithers? I mean, really, Karen?"

He wasn't really mad at me, I realized, and so I shrugged shyly, "She's really pretty."

"Yeah, but all your nerdy science gibberish of norepinephren and serotonin is much more of an aphrodisiac."

"Really?" I asked with a small smile.

"Of course," he said.

Then he kissed me again and I felt my nerves become alight with doses of dopamine and pheromones and vasopressin, and I didn't really care. I wasn't really thinking about all that stuff anymore, nor the way my stomach was filled to the brim with butterflies (which I knew was due to the blood rushing away from my stomach, but didn't really care). All I could think about was him and his hands and -

- Oh my God, is that even legal?

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(AN: I felt I should share with you all just how nerdy I really am. Note that this is un-proofread because I'm lazy and tired and have school tomorrow. Oh yeah, and please review.)