A/N: 100 word drabble written in answer to a challenge. Please read and review! No slash intended!Thank you.
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Wilson drank Vodka. Maybe that seemed weak, but he didn't care when he was drinking it. He didn't drink it all the time; he saved it for despair. He liked the way he could barely taste it and the way it got to him so fast – one more parallel of his love for House. He took another drink from the bottle; the bar tender had given it to him without being asked. He was that obvious. God.
He felt it flowing into his heart. It would never be enough. He could never be enough. Not for House. Not with love.