Teardrop on the Fire
DISCLAIMER: I don't own House or Massive attack or anyone. Go ahead, laugh all you want. It's not going to change anything.
He hated Stacy.And yet, there he was, standing at the bus stop on that cold, rainy night, waiting for something that would never come. Something just didn't seem to click. It felt likehe was trying to make a clock work that wasn't wound right. This whole setup seemed wrong. Very wrong.
After all, he was going tosee a married woman's, on her onlyvacaion,all the way down in Baja, Mexico. To tell her What?
He'd probably just chicken out and say that he was just in the neighborhood. And would just happen to "Drop By".
In Mexico?
He saw lights approaching, so he gathered up his bags, ready to get on this bus.
He felt a sudden surge in his leg,and popped a Vicodin.
This was strange. He just took some a minute ago.
His heart was pounding.
He thought about why this would be.
I didn't take enough Vicodin for this to happen. I'm not having a heart attack; the rythm isn't right.
He sat down.
He couldn't think anymore.
His leg didn't hurt anymore. It never had hurt.
It hadn't hurt since five years ago when the pain started. There was no pain in his leg, only his heart.
It was only a stupid a coverup for what really ached.
He needed her.
Idiotic stubborn mule. He said to himself.
It was only then that he realized it wasn't raining.