You're bored…
You find yourself leaning against the wall opposite the door, you're eyes glued to it, your overactive brain creating scenarios of the hundred and one…hundred and two ways you could sneak out unnoticed.
You grew bored of observing the patrons in their expensive outfits and their significant others in those thoroughly picked gowns and over done hair-styles…it's like you're stuck in the twilight zone…your mind tells you and you wonder what on earth you're doing at a launch party, for a guy you don't even know.
"Hurry up…we're gonna be late…" she shouts from the front door.
You're standing in front of the mirror in your bedroom staring stupidly at your reflection dressed in a tuxedo; you've been doing that a lot lately…staring at that reflection…that man…you don't know him…you don't like him…but he's one of the first things you see when you wake up every morning.
"Greg…" she shouts again and you feel anger and repulse build up inside you, but you suck it up…you've learned to do that lately, suck it up…and walk away from the mirror.
You reach the hallway to find her thumping her foot against the hardwood floor of your apartment, one hand on her hip and the other on the doorknob, you stop and take her in: a black and small piece of smooth looking fabric, that's all she's wearing and much to your surprise it's enough to cover a portion of her chest and still have enough fabric left-over to make one of the shortest mini-skirts you've ever seen a 'decent' woman dress in your life; your eyes wander to her shoes, you used to like them…there used to be something about those high black stilettos that made you feel…ah…something…you don't anymore, because you know what it means when she wears them…and you don't like them anymore…much like you feel about her.
"You ready?" she asks exasperated, her dark curls falling over her shoulders and her piercing blue eyes burning into your skull.
"Remind me again…" you start, thumping your cane against the floor, just like she thumps her foot "…why I am going to a launch party for a book I have no intention of reading and by I guy I've never even met…" you ask clearly upset.
She frowns and takes a deep breath; "Because the guy is my baby brother and you are my boyfriend…" she snaps, before she stumps out the door and to her car.
You allow your eyes to scan the room lightly and find your 'girlfriend' or like you call her your 'fuck-friend', she's surrounded by five men, talking amicably with all of them, as they do their best to peek down her cleavage and eventually succeed and you find a small smirk tugging at your mouth as the thought: 'Maybe one of them will bite the bait, take her home with him and off of my hands' crosses your mind and for a moment you are hopeful…hopeful she'll forget she came with you and leave with someone else…hopeful you'll be able to spend one night away from her…away from what being with her means.
You take a sip of the watery scotch that's forgotten in your left hand and your eyes move back to the front door of the large room, the amber liquid is cold and a much needed relief from the unbearable heat that builds up inside you when you see her…
Long burgundy strapless dress, a long crack on the left side allowing a breathtaking glimpse of her long and perfect leg and strapped matching stilettos; the dress clings to her like a second skin, her discreet curves accentuated by the way the light of the room hits the silk of the dress and makes them look even more perfect than you ever thought possible; it's a simple dress, but you swear you've never seen anything like it.
Her hair is down, much like that night you'll never forget…the first night you ever really stopped and realised how truly beautiful she was…still is…; the tained curls covering most of her shoulders and collarbone and you find your fingers itching to brush them away and trace the pale and smooth looking skin of her of her clavicles and kiss the hollow of her throat…like you've always wanted to do before, but never had the courage to.
As you try to swallow past the lump in your throat, you look at her face, barely any make-up, maybe an eyeliner and a discreet shade of lipstick; looking into her eyes, you don't recognise them…they're different…there's no shine in them, they're hollow.
She's looking for someone, her expression is tired and bored, and much like yours must have been only seconds ago, before she came in.
Someone approaches her…and quicker than you ever thought humanly possible, her expression goes from thoroughly exhausted to forcefully excited, as an achingly forced smile spreads over her features and a man throws his arms around her waist, picks her up and effortlessly swirls her around in his arms, like a child that just got that bike he'd pinning for the whole year from Santa; it makes you sick that you can't do that…that you can be the one planting clumsy kisses on her cheeks and mouth, with your arms wrapped tight around the only woman you've ever truly loved and never had the courage to be with.
You feel a little better when you see her shoot him a warning glance and mouth the words 'Put me down', to which he obeys immediately…idiot…your mind mumbles quietly to yourself; she smoothes his tux and says something you can't understand, but whatever it is you like it, because his arms fall from around her and he stumps away from her looking disappointed, disappearing into the crowd and as she stared at his back and sighed tiredly, the forced smile vanished and all her exhaustion was suddenly evident.
You contemplate walking to her, but before you can make a decision you feel your body stiffen as her eyes fall on you all the wau across the room.
Her eyes are soft on you...they always were...your mins points out, not scalding hot like your 'pseudo-girlfriend's' and they make you feel comfortable and accepted instead of awkward and inadequate; you can feel your body relax slowly as she holds your eyes in that unbreakable lock that you know she missed just as much as you did.
Someone approaches her and she reluctantly breaks the lock and struggles to focus on the person in front of her; the forced smile is back and you lean back again and tilt your head just slightly, deep in concentration as you try to figure her out…something you never managed to do before…why would now be any different…time, maybe…your mind tells you; it has been ten years since you've last seen each other.
The woman she's talking to has her back turned to you, but the hair colour, the type of outfit and stature reminds you of your 'pseudo-girlfriend' and you reason it must be another one of her sister's…the one's you'll hopefully make it through the night without meeting.
For a second you wonder what she's doing talking so amicably with one of the 'Three Wicked Whitches sisters', but you lose your train of thought when her eyes catch yours again, icy ocean blues meet warm lake greens, their pleading with yours, pleading for something to take her away from there, much like yours, but nothing comes… to either of you…
The idiot is back, his handing her a tall glass of champagne and you feel your stomach flip, when you catch a glimpse of his hand snaking around her waist and settling somewhere on her back…her lower-back; while you're trying to stop yourself from limping across the ball-room and rip his arms out for daring to touch her a hand settles on your forearm and you can see her eyes widening in surprise; "…come on, I want you to meet my brother…" the voice is cold and authoritive "…and I want to meet my future sister-in-law…" she added with that high-pitched tone that always makes you want to run…well limp away as fast as possible.
Your heart tightens when you realise where she's leading you to…she's leading you to her, the words 'future sister-in-law'are floating through your mind and making you sick, as you hope she'll change directions at anytime and lead you somewhere else…anywhere else.
But she doesn't and soon you're face to face; your eyes are locked together questioning each other, you can't ear a word that the other three people are saying and you're sure she can't either, because all you ear is the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears and you know that's all she ears too.
The hand is gone from your forearm, feeling like a tune as been lifted from your shoulders…you feel free, like if you wanted you could jump down from a skyscraper because you'd float your way back down to the ground...to her, to her awaiting arms…
But a second later the weight is back…it's heavier than ever, she placed her hand above your heart and you know she felt it's furious rhythm has it tries to beat its way out of your chest, because she tenses next to you, probably as she realizes why it's beating so hard…for who it's beating so hard…you know she knows, because it becomes too much for her and her hand drops form above your heart, but before you can feel free again, she's hugging your forearm again possessively, has if trying to send a message to the other woman…
And the other woman gets it, because her eyes fall to the ground and you feel lost…lost without that guiding light that always shone in her eyes…your guiding light, so you look away…down, up, to the side…it doesn't matter, anywhere is good. You ear voices again, they're faint so you focus and you're able to ear them clearly after a second…you wish you couldn't.
"Lisa…this is Allison…" the owner of the arm you wish to rip off aka The Idiot says cheerfully "…my wife-to-be…" he adds looking back at the 'wife-to-be' excitedly, you let your eyes move to her face and are relieved to find that she's not forcing a smile anymore…her face is solemn and unreadable, even for you.
"Dr. Cameron…" Lisa exclaims from your side, Cameron pushes a smile and nods discreetly.
"You know each other?" The Idiot asks stupidly, turning to face his 'wife-to-be'.
"Yes…" she mumbles shyly.
The Idiot smiles as realization hits him square in the face; "…right…when you worked at PPTH…I forgot…" he made a ridiculous face and looked at you "…and you must be the infamous Dr. House…" he said taking his arm from around Cameron…finally…and holding it up for you to shake his hand.
Lisa freezes, she knows you don't shake hands, but you surprise her, reaching out and shaking his, much smaller hand, purposefully hard…not letting him pull back…you know she sees what you're doing, you know everyone sees what you're doing, but you don't care.
"Greg's my boyfriend…" Lisa mumbles more to Cameron than to anyone else, quite childishly you should point out.
"It's nice to meet you Greg…" The Idiot mumbles, his face a little flushed and voice only slightly strained from the grip you have on his hand.
"It's House" you snap in your usual harsh tone, making Lisa wince next to you and an amused and honest smile creeps into Cameron's features, as you drop the now pale, lifeless and bloodless hand and return your hand to your side, your eyes locked on his hands as he rubs the right one attempting to make the blood flow return and take the terrible tingling feeling away from it.
One of the 'Three Wicked Whitches sisters' speaks, her voice is just as annoying as her Cuddy's and you wince; "…I thought she hadn't said 'yes' yet…" you look at her and can tell she's fighting a blush back and failing miserably.
"Not yet…" The Idiot said pulling her to him and nuzzling her neck sweetly...God I wanna hit him…you tell yourself in your mind "…but it's been seven years…it's about time we take the next step…" he said kissing her cheek "…right Allie…" you see her wincing slightly…you've never pegged her for a Allie, apparently you were right…
She inhales and is about to speak, but before any words come out a pager goes off and she immediately reaches into her purse and quiets it, as she reads the page, The idiot lowers his head and tries to speak quietly, but it's like the whole room was silent at that exact moment, because every word was clear for you to ear.
"I thought you said you weren't on call tonight…" he says through greeted teeth, as his hand grips her tiny forearm to get her attention and you can ear her hiss at the forcefulness of his touch.
"I'm not…" she replies looking up to meet his stare, her eyes have turned grey and cold as she speaks in a calm, hushed and gathered tone, though in her eyes there's a frenzy of emotions…surprise…awareness…embarrassment…shock…and pain…you note the last one and look down to see that he's still gripping her arm; "…but I do have a patient…" she says still looking at him; "…if you'll excuse me I have to make a quick call…" she directs at Lisa and the other woman…I need to get out of here…her eyes tell you and you nod slightly, only then does she leave.
You watch her retrieving back, as she disappears behind the big doors and into the lobby and you hear The Idiot say something like: "…she's running her own Diagnostics Department…her hours are crazy…" he explains mostly to himself, you think.
You fight the urge to follow her for as long as you can, until you break, look at Lisa beside you, your eyes meeting…really meeting for the first time in a very long time, she sighs and lets go of your arm and you limp away as fast as you can after her, without looking back, never looking back…you're tired of looking back.
TBC?
Reviews are more than welcome.
Lurve, BeeBee.