Disclaimer: Song lyrics from "Out From Under" belong to Joanna Pacitti and House belongs to Fox and DS. I won none unfortunately.
Out From Under
Breathe you out
Breathe you in
You keep coming back to tell me
You're the one who could have been
Maybe he's the one that got away. Maybe he's not. Maybe he never was or even could be. You just wished he'd been able to come round to your way of thinking. Childish of you really, looking back. Looking back on everything, it could have been so different, if he'd been different. But you wouldn't change him, as stubborn and abrasive as he can be, you fell for the man he is, not a refined, straighter-laced version of him. He just doesn't get that. And now you're resigning, for your own sake. He just stands there.
And my eyes see it all so clear
It was long ago and far away but it never disappears
You've been hurt before and your heart is kind of used to it. There's familiarity in this dull ache. You drown it out by losing yourself in your work usually (he's always on the sidelines, throwing stones at your defences) and you've put so much in the past, moved on, that it becomes easier every day. A little clichéd, you're sure, but it's how you feel. The scars will always be there, of course, you're just better at hiding them and better at protecting yourself from him and everyone else.
I try to put it in the past
Hold on to myself and don't look back
Because isn't that what all the books say? All those sad little "10 Steps To Surviving Your Boss" and "Bereavement Made Easier" books. Your brother bought you the former as a joke last year. You still have it somewhere. You've taken one of the pieces of advice at least: Leave.
I don't wanna dream about
All the things that never were
And it's true, painfully so. Nothing ever happened…at least physically. There was the underlying current to every word you exchanged, but neither of you were brave enough to act on it. Mostly him really. So everything you hoped for remains in your head. Maybe it's better that way. Doesn't make it easier, not in the least.
Maybe I can live without
When I'm out from under
He'll always haunt your dreams, especially when he breaks into your reality in the dead of night. After a day, you were sure that was it, he'd let you go. But nothing's that easy with him. So here he is (those eyes avoiding yours) stood awkwardly before you, pleading without words. You were breaking free (though it didn't exactly feel liberating) and he's pulling you back.
I don't wanna feel the pain
What good would it do me now?
You've already had enough pain, but you can count on him to bring you more. Part of you must like it really, on some subconscious level, because you let him. You always give in, back down, and loyalty and respect have nothing to do with it. He knows it, you know it, and apparently the whole hospital knows it. Even Vogler.
I'll get it all figured out
When I'm out from under
But for now he's here, and figuring out how to put him behind you can wait. You can never turn him away (not with eyes like those) and you hate yourself for it. You let him in, even though your mouth is contradicting what your heart is saying. You want him here, your body responds to him without your consent and you still haven't mastered control of that yet. Another thing you hate yourself for. You'll never be out from under this control he has. Like a doll on a string. His favourite, prettiest little toy.
So let me go
Just let me fly away
He's never going to give you up (especially since it would probably do you both some good) and yet that feels more liberating than being free to run. You've left; it shouldn't be like that. But it is.
Let me feel the space between us growing deeper
And much darker every day
Your lips are saying, "let me go" but your heart is pleading with him to "keep holding on". The air is thick between you as he sits on your sofa and suddenly he's reaching for you. The closer he gets, the more the whole room closes around you, the darker the walls and the space in between becomes. It sends thrills along every nerve in your body and he hasn't even touched you yet (you wish he'd stop torturing you). Whatever this is underneath the surface, it's more powerful than either of you realise.
Watch me now and I'll be someone new
My heart will be unbroken
It will open up for everyone but you
Even when his fingers are on your skin, you can't open up completely. You're fighting your own heart, and you won't open up. He can touch you but it's superficial (but oh, how good this superficial touch feels). You're too scared and too aware of consequences to let him reach deeper. Because he managed that long ago, without touching, and look what damage that did to your broken little heart.
Even when I cross the line
It's like a lie I've told a thousand times
It's an "I don't love you" that falls from your lips. But it drives him on. The lie apparently turns him on and he's coming at you from above, lips tender but passionate across your collarbone. You repeat it and he doesn't reply (the lie is an audacious one even to you). But everybody lies.
I don't wanna dream about
All the things that never were
Well, there'll be no more dreaming because this is real. The fantasies you hated yourself for are becoming a reality so quickly that it's dizzying. He's not at all the type of lover you'd expected him to be. In your dreams you could never fool yourself enough to believe he'd be gentle with you (it was always rough and exhaustingly satisfying). But this reality…it makes you shiver. Barely there and almost afraid to touch, his fingers trace the line of your jaw and his eyes are on yours. This is as open and raw as he'll ever be and your seizing it with both hands. Literally. When your lips meet it's like a fire consuming the both of you. You're never going to be over him.
Maybe I can live without
When I'm out from under
You're just not sure you ever will be. Before, you didn't have the memories of his touch etched into your heart. Now, the feel of his fingers burning everywhere they touch will never leave you. It makes you wonder if that was his plan. You were pulling away, freeing yourself from it all and protecting your heart. But he's under your skin now (anticipation knots in your stomach as you think of how literal that will be soon). You're never going to be out from under his hold on you.
I don't wanna feel the pain
What good would it do me now?
Maybe you have some kind of penchant for pain. It seems to follow you around and right now you're embracing it more than willingly. He's pain. You're smart enough to realise that. But in this moment (in his arms) you don't care. Consequences, be damned, because pain is overrated and happiness (even just an instant of it) hurts more in the long run. This is going to hurt like hell when he leaves you.
I'll get it all figured out
When I'm out from under
Just not right now. He's inside you and you can't think of anything else but the feelings he's creating. You don't want to think about what's going to happen after (when he'll inevitably break you) or how you get out from under his hold when such a strong part of you is forced to hold on.
And part of me still believes
When you say you're gonna stick around
And part of me still believes
We can find a way to work it out
It's when he collapses on top of you that your doubts resurface. Will he get up and leave? Will he even say a word to you ("That was fun. Goodnight.")? You wish he'd stay where he is right now (warm pressure on top of you) because this is the closest you could ever be. That look in his eyes as you fell over the edge (it was the closest to love – if you dare use that word – you've ever seen from him) and he followed you seconds later. The unwavering intimacy as he'd held your eye contact had broken every barrier you had. If he'd wanted to at that moment, he could have reached your heart too easily. It scares you to acknowledge that.
But I know that we tried everything we could try
So let's just say goodbye
Forever.
You're ready for it, when he pulls out of you. You're ready for him to gather the walls that had only just crumbled down and run (well, limp) as fast as he could to get himself safely out of the situation he'd put himself into. He's on his back next to you, fighting for his breath, and you dare a glance. He's looking back at you, but you can't read him. He can read you of course. He knows what you're thinking (wondering how long until he bolts) but the only response you get is the slight quirk of his lips. A smile.
I don't wanna dream about
The things that never were
Maybe I can live without
When I'm out from under
You're in his arms again (you're still reeling from this revelation and from everything that's just happened between you). He's kissing you. Lazy, lingering kisses that make your toes tingle. You can't believe he's still here. You can't believe you're in his arms after he just made love to you (because in no one's book was that just sex). You never pegged him for a cuddler. Then again, you never pegged him for a gentle, generous lover. But he is. Every touch he'd administered was like a drug, designed to set off fireworks behind your eyes and make you scream so loudly the old lady next door got a little pissy.
I don't wanna feel the pain
What good would it do me now?
When he whispers in your ear ("Still leaving?") you want to smack him and kiss him both at the same time. He's played you, yet again, and he barely had to try. You didn't resist his kiss (who would?) and now you can't leave him. Because this meant too much. You don't want to be out from under his hold any more (because it felt so damn good). He gets what he wants, as usual. But this time, you're kind of getting exactly what you'd wanted too.
I'll get it all figured out
When I'm out from under