After settling his things in his weekday room, House walked straight to the gym that same evening. He resented Wilson for thinking about dating Cuddy and he doesn’t know how to say to her to stay away from his friend. He knows, he’s badly screwed since he knew how Wilson marks his words. In just a blink of an eye, Cuddy might be taken away without him fighting for her for himself.
The moment he reached the gym, he found Pitt and Daniel having their scotch session. Both of them looked at him as his anger sweat come running from his forehead down to his chin. He tried to look away to hide his inner misery.
House: Something going?
Daniel: We’re celebrating…
House looked at him and for a moment, he thought the celebration was meant for Wilson winning Cuddy.
Daniel: I just finished my last mental session this morning.
House: Oh.
Finally a relief for him but his misery isn’t done yet. He picked up a boxing glove that was seating on a bench and forcefully pulled it in his hand.
Pitt: Are you okay?
House: Your boxing glove sucks.
Pitt: No, I’m referring to you… right now… Are you okay?
House, now pissed off, pulled off the glove again and threw it aside. Daniel and Pitt’s eyes grew wide as they watch House run a palm on his face and made a few steps around. Daniel poured a glass of scotch and offered it to him. He looked at it, took it and suddenly, without warning, heavily threw the glass on the floor letting the debris fly left and right before letting his back face his friend and doctor as he sat down. Pitt gave a sighed and made a call on his phone a few steps away from his devastated patient.
Pitt: I told you, don’t push further.
Wilson: <on the phone> How bad is he?
Pitt: <sighed> I can’t put it into words but I know this is as painful as it is. Back it off now.
Wilson lost his words knowing Pitt’s right. His obsession with Cuddy will just put House into pangs of emotional death.
Pitt: You’re being stupid, James. Don’t you dare make any move… not at least until House is okay.
Pitt dropped the call heavily before turning back to see House walked out of the gym.
A few blocks away was Wilson. He turned off his phone as well after hearing a busy line than Pitt’s voice. He pulled his car aside the highway before throwing his phone to the passenger seat next to him. Times like these, he knows he needs a friend, but how can he, if the friend and the “foe” is just as much as the same.
House entered his new room past twelve in the evening. Almost dawn actually. He’s tired, exhausted and emotionally frustrated for what had happened so he decided to run and push his abilities than he usually does. He was stunned to see Cuddy in front of him after locking the door and turning back to face the room.
Cuddy: I got called away by Pitt. I told you should stop doing that.
House sighed and tried not to meet Cuddy’s gaze by moving away from her and so she turned to look at him.
Cuddy: You could have collapsed out there and no one would know!
House: I’m fine.
Cuddy ran fingers on her forehead, thinking how to convince the stubborn House not to run alone again. She happened to notice his trembling hand and wounded knee. She sighed and walked towards him.
Cuddy: You’re wounded…
House: I just tripped…
Cuddy: Because you’re an ass. You refuse to believe that something would happen to you. Now get your ass on the bed and I’ll treat the wound.
House: Hey I’m a doctor ---
Cuddy: Who doesn’t know what he’s doing. You can’t treat it yourself. Your hands are trembling, obviously can’t clean it well.
Cuddy gets some betadine and gauze from the first aid cabinet as he limped to the bathroom instead.
House: I’ll be in the bathroom. Got to clean this crap first.
The pain from the wound and from his leg was beginning to feel unbearable. He slowly let himself fell on the bathroom floor as he rub the affected areas on his body but when Cuddy entered, he acted like he’s feeling nothing. She got down on her knees the moment he wet his wound with the pull out shower.
House: Damn…
He said after knowing water had gotten into his favorite Steve McQueen shirt. He turned off the shower and set it aside before trying to remove his shirt. Cuddy could see how he’s having a hard time so she moved closer before holding his shirt as well that caught his attention.
House: If you’re trying to rape me, I think I can live with that…
Cuddy: Idiot. I’m trying to help. I’ll do it.
House dropped his arms and let Cuddy held his shirt instead of his own hands.
House: I know I am a cripple but you don’t have to treat me like one.
Cuddy: I’m not. I said I’m just trying to help you ---
Cuddy pulled his shirt up, letting it slide out of his body and finally, revealing his well toned biceps and chest. While she was doing it, House seemed to be, once again, lost in Cuddy’s eyes. His pain seemed not to be a barrier as he looked closely at the woman he loves. He can’t hear what she’s saying but he’s listening to what her heart was telling him. She cares and she cares so much.
Cuddy: Hope you learned your lesson. Don’t do this again, House or I will strap you in your bed.
Cuddy noticed how silent House was. She lifted up her face and finally, she met up with House’s piercing gaze. His blue eyes were calm unlike before and her gray ones were the window of her soul. The deafening silent were more comfortable than it did before. It was as if they’re giving each other some space to think if the moment is really meant to be done.
House can’t hold no longer. He slowly leaned closer to Cuddy without tearing each other’s gaze apart.
Cuddy: House…
Her voice was soft, it wasn’t bossy, it was more like a call of love and that didn’t stop House from letting his lips touch hers and giving her a quick peck. Both eyes were slowly shut and was opened again when House pulled back a few centimeters away. She was surprised with his “employee’s” rapid gesture but she didn’t complain.
He leaned again before tilted his head for a repeat performance. Both eyes were once again hid under their eyelids as House’s lips reached Cuddy’s. He rolled out his tongue and it lingered on her lips for a few minutes before Cuddy herself let it in and once again, lips, teeth and tongues collided.
The moment he reached the gym, he found Pitt and Daniel having their scotch session. Both of them looked at him as his anger sweat come running from his forehead down to his chin. He tried to look away to hide his inner misery.
House: Something going?
Daniel: We’re celebrating…
House looked at him and for a moment, he thought the celebration was meant for Wilson winning Cuddy.
Daniel: I just finished my last mental session this morning.
House: Oh.
Finally a relief for him but his misery isn’t done yet. He picked up a boxing glove that was seating on a bench and forcefully pulled it in his hand.
Pitt: Are you okay?
House: Your boxing glove sucks.
Pitt: No, I’m referring to you… right now… Are you okay?
House, now pissed off, pulled off the glove again and threw it aside. Daniel and Pitt’s eyes grew wide as they watch House run a palm on his face and made a few steps around. Daniel poured a glass of scotch and offered it to him. He looked at it, took it and suddenly, without warning, heavily threw the glass on the floor letting the debris fly left and right before letting his back face his friend and doctor as he sat down. Pitt gave a sighed and made a call on his phone a few steps away from his devastated patient.
Pitt: I told you, don’t push further.
Wilson: <on the phone> How bad is he?
Pitt: <sighed> I can’t put it into words but I know this is as painful as it is. Back it off now.
Wilson lost his words knowing Pitt’s right. His obsession with Cuddy will just put House into pangs of emotional death.
Pitt: You’re being stupid, James. Don’t you dare make any move… not at least until House is okay.
Pitt dropped the call heavily before turning back to see House walked out of the gym.
A few blocks away was Wilson. He turned off his phone as well after hearing a busy line than Pitt’s voice. He pulled his car aside the highway before throwing his phone to the passenger seat next to him. Times like these, he knows he needs a friend, but how can he, if the friend and the “foe” is just as much as the same.
House entered his new room past twelve in the evening. Almost dawn actually. He’s tired, exhausted and emotionally frustrated for what had happened so he decided to run and push his abilities than he usually does. He was stunned to see Cuddy in front of him after locking the door and turning back to face the room.
Cuddy: I got called away by Pitt. I told you should stop doing that.
House sighed and tried not to meet Cuddy’s gaze by moving away from her and so she turned to look at him.
Cuddy: You could have collapsed out there and no one would know!
House: I’m fine.
Cuddy ran fingers on her forehead, thinking how to convince the stubborn House not to run alone again. She happened to notice his trembling hand and wounded knee. She sighed and walked towards him.
Cuddy: You’re wounded…
House: I just tripped…
Cuddy: Because you’re an ass. You refuse to believe that something would happen to you. Now get your ass on the bed and I’ll treat the wound.
House: Hey I’m a doctor ---
Cuddy: Who doesn’t know what he’s doing. You can’t treat it yourself. Your hands are trembling, obviously can’t clean it well.
Cuddy gets some betadine and gauze from the first aid cabinet as he limped to the bathroom instead.
House: I’ll be in the bathroom. Got to clean this crap first.
The pain from the wound and from his leg was beginning to feel unbearable. He slowly let himself fell on the bathroom floor as he rub the affected areas on his body but when Cuddy entered, he acted like he’s feeling nothing. She got down on her knees the moment he wet his wound with the pull out shower.
House: Damn…
He said after knowing water had gotten into his favorite Steve McQueen shirt. He turned off the shower and set it aside before trying to remove his shirt. Cuddy could see how he’s having a hard time so she moved closer before holding his shirt as well that caught his attention.
House: If you’re trying to rape me, I think I can live with that…
Cuddy: Idiot. I’m trying to help. I’ll do it.
House dropped his arms and let Cuddy held his shirt instead of his own hands.
House: I know I am a cripple but you don’t have to treat me like one.
Cuddy: I’m not. I said I’m just trying to help you ---
Cuddy pulled his shirt up, letting it slide out of his body and finally, revealing his well toned biceps and chest. While she was doing it, House seemed to be, once again, lost in Cuddy’s eyes. His pain seemed not to be a barrier as he looked closely at the woman he loves. He can’t hear what she’s saying but he’s listening to what her heart was telling him. She cares and she cares so much.
Cuddy: Hope you learned your lesson. Don’t do this again, House or I will strap you in your bed.
Cuddy noticed how silent House was. She lifted up her face and finally, she met up with House’s piercing gaze. His blue eyes were calm unlike before and her gray ones were the window of her soul. The deafening silent were more comfortable than it did before. It was as if they’re giving each other some space to think if the moment is really meant to be done.
House can’t hold no longer. He slowly leaned closer to Cuddy without tearing each other’s gaze apart.
Cuddy: House…
Her voice was soft, it wasn’t bossy, it was more like a call of love and that didn’t stop House from letting his lips touch hers and giving her a quick peck. Both eyes were slowly shut and was opened again when House pulled back a few centimeters away. She was surprised with his “employee’s” rapid gesture but she didn’t complain.
He leaned again before tilted his head for a repeat performance. Both eyes were once again hid under their eyelids as House’s lips reached Cuddy’s. He rolled out his tongue and it lingered on her lips for a few minutes before Cuddy herself let it in and once again, lips, teeth and tongues collided.
