Words
"Tell me."
Fingers brushing through Wilson's silken hair, feeling the heavy breathing against his neck, the demand was oddly tainted with a soft sadness as House spoke to the man residing upon his chest, the man with limbs entangled with his own. The man whose heart beat so close to his.
"I lo--" Wilson's voice splintered. He pressed deeper into House's lithe form, feeling the blood crash around his ears. He wanted to say it, ached to say it. But the words refused to be spoken, instead sticking to the back of his throat. Choking him.
"I love... my wife."