Love is a crippled dream.
This is my first ever Fan Fiction story, however I'm currently writing a book and need a break from that project. So please be kind to me and excuse me for any OOC. Would love for you to review and tell me if you would like to read more!
Now she was gone. Again. Like always he was right in the end.
But if your stuck and your not allowed back, where the hell do you go?
It wasn't that he didn't want to be with her, of course he did. God, it was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He just couldn't break himself; he would be a hypocrite to himself if he changed now. He didn't believe people could change. The years he exploited himself to a drug ridden life, then to finally get clean but to find his one hope in life had been taken, snatched from him like a falling coin. Then out all the odds she would choose him in his deepest most darkest moments of sorrow. But it was way to good to be true. He knew it. He had even told her it, their first night they spent together, although she denied it, telling him that she would never want him to change. It was only a matter of time though, before that promise wore, and things started to slip. Now she was gone. Again. Like always, he was right in the end.
House sat at the end of his hotel bed. He was finally alone properly since the night cuddy had left him. He was sober and hadn't taken a Vicodin in over three hours. His icy blue gaze was fixated on a shattered wine glass, which flashed memories of the night before in to his tired mind. Where he had partied into the early morning and gone to bed with a different girl again, like the previous night. He hadn't been to work in two days and he didn't believe anyone was missing him, certainly not cuddy. The glasss on the floor also triggerd thoughts back to the night cuddy came to him. The night cuddy left lucas and all behind. How Wilson hadn't stoped pestering them through the whole course of the next day, trying to see if he was stable. This time nobody had come for him. Cuddy had left him, Wilson seemed to have given up on him. The brisk night air shook him out of his reminisce, back to the present, back to realtiy. But she was still in his mind, she was always on his mind.
The knock at his room door sent alarms runny through his mind again, he hadn't called a hooker, he was tired of those. Wilson perhaps? But why on earth would he be coming to see him at this hour? He stood up and limped heavily across his room. He nearly fell on to the door, before he took a second to compose himself. He opend it with a slight tug. "yes, what do you want?" he grumbled to the hench man standing at his door.
"I've been told that you are to pack your things and get out of this room imedatly" House looked stunned as the hotel security guard carried on. " You've been too disruptive and the damage to your room has been exstensive. Please get your things and leave" with out any further warning the man left leaving House with no choice but co operate, which he rarely liked to do.
He only had one rucksack and most of his clothes were still in there. The ones he wore now, smelt of stale bear and sex. His room was dark and he didn't bother to switch on the lights to try and gather his belongings, he could safly say anything worthwhile to pack was already in his bag, all he had to do was find his cane. Although after 15 minutes of searching for it he presumed he had misplaced it somewhere whilst in one of his many drunken states, in which case he would never find it. He staggerd to the lift, using the hallway for support. Waking up nearly everyone on his floor with his heavey footsteps. House made it down stairs to check out. He assumed a hefty bill was waiting for him at the counter, although to his greatest surprise there was none. That's when he realize who was jerking him around.
He stepped off the bus and stood infront of Wilson's apartment. No lights were on, but of course that was Wilson trying to fool him, he thought to himself. He clenched his fists and smacked at the door, making sure to wake up anyone inside, although no response came. He laughed to himself as he tried to peak through window, but to know avail. He wasn't drunk, but Houses mind was surely acting iratinaly. With one quick movement House smashed the front door glass and let himself into an empty apartment. Still smilling at Wilsons little practical joke House traipsed though the living room and made himself comfortable on a familiar sofa. He waited for Wilson to come out of his hiding place and have laugh with him. Yet it was only the darkness, which persisted to greet him, surround him. Slowly he fell asleep to the sound of nothingness.