Wilson looked up, the golden glittering light filtering lazily through his blinds, the teak shelves and there dusty volumes illuminated by the fluttering specks. He let a smile flow over his boyish features, remembering his date later, a lovely woman from his gym.
Chestnut hair and golden eyes, a body to die for. Wilson chuckled, she was stunning and tonight, tonight she would feel the full force of what House referred to the 'boy wonder effect' .
A nice simple cream shirt, cream tie with an interesting but not too garish green stripes, and a beige suit, casual but still formal enough for any restaurant. That too was chosen with care, a small chic Italian place, his favorite table in the corner where the lighting was best and it was secluded enough to make her feel safe. He bought his flowers, matching them to the ones he had smelt on her hair, wine for later, fruity but light, every detail matching up to the things he had noticed about her, her personality, her dress sense and her flavors. This was too easy.
He picked her up at seven and made sure to compliment her clothes, to act like he cared about her day and to treat her as a gentleman would. Halfway through the date, everything going on schedule Wilson's date went to powder her nose and Wilson finally looked around, the right mood lighting and warm scented air comforting.
Suddenly everything went cold, his eyes catching icy blues seated behind him; he blinked realizing that he was staring into a mirror, his own paling reflection gawping back at him. House had followed him again, another date knowing House was watching. Wilson let out a sigh his eyebrow twitching when he realized House hadn't noticed he could see him.
The older man was hunched over his drink sending flustered glances over to the oncologist, his face scrunched with what seemed suspiciously like annoyance and a trickle of something Wilson couldn't identify. He bristled and turned in his seat staring the older man down until House looked away sliding out of his booth and limping over to Wilson's candlelit table.
"Who is she?"
Wilson stared incredulously up at his friend, anger bubbling in his stomach "House, what the hell are you doing here!?"
Houses eyebrow twitched and nothing more was said.
"House, get the fuck out of here. I'm sick of you interfering with things that don't concern you"
Houses hand clenched unnoticed on the handle of his cane "Don't concern me?"
"Yes House, as much as you'd like to believe it isn't true, you have absolutely nothing to do with my love life, not a thing and you never will"
Houses eyes flashed for a second and then he dropped his head, closing his eyes. Wilson frowned
"You're not going to retort with of course it's your concern or something?"
His frowned grew deeper when House just looked at him sad baby blues dull.
"House?" but it was too late the diagnostician had already turned and limped stiffly out of the door, leaving his friend confused, his righteous anger dissipating, his voice ringing out across the quiet tinkling of glasses and mindless chatter of the couples around him.
James spent the rest of the dinner in a daze, unable to feel interested or excited or anything for this woman, this lovely woman who deserved better than him.
"Look, I'm sorry" Wilson tried to apologize as he made his excuses to leave, after paying the bill sand walking her to her front door "I'm sorry, you're truly wonderful but… I have to be somewhere. I'm needed"
The woman smiled like they always did, but this time she didn't lead him inside, this time he didn't try to fuck his worries away. This time she smiled, she hugged him and they waved goodbye. Wilson was going to fix what had been niggling at him all night.
Pulling up outside the flat Wilson winced, at the cool breeze billowing and the dark sky clouded over hiding the stars as if a great injustice had been served and the world had felt it and was punishing him .Wilson sighed as the first cool drops dribbled down his expensive coat and onto his still flushed skin.
He paused for a beat outside Houses door, unsure of why he was there staring at the familiar wood, unsure why he felt such guilt, unsure why it was that the way House had seemed to act so dismissive had shaken him so. He reached out dragging a hand down the worn wood and knocked, the sound echoing around the empty night streets, blue moonlight bouncing off he wet street tiles.
There was no answer, but if you listened intently a soft sad lullaby wafted out from under the old door and so Wilson knocked again, louder, noticing a sudden angry note in the sweet song, the anger and sadness of the melody melting into pictures in his mind, pictures of the way Houses brilliant eyes had dulled, the awkward stiff limp as he walked away, the empty echo in Wilson's gut.
He knocked for what seemed like hours, but relief never came, House would not let him near and so Wilson left his voice to echo across the dirty wooden floors and into the dimly lit room, stinging the ears of the hunched over pianist , deepening his anger, his bitterness and his rage.
"House?"