"Being miserable sucks, doesn't it?"
I stared at him as I waited for his answer. He held his shot glass up and smirked.
"Nope, not really."
I frowned, but I expected that answer from him. Sighing, I stared up at the TV, captivated by the soft glow emanating from it.
Finishing his shot, House glanced at my glass. "You gonna finish yours?"
Turning my attention away from the television, I gave a small nod and took the fiery shot.
"Are you miserable?" House looked at me.
What a stupid question. "I guess I am," I answered. "Knowing that you're going to die from a disease with no cure is kind of depressing, don't you think?"
House didn't answer. Instead, he posed another question. "Are you scared?"
Another idiotic question. "Scared of what?"
"Y'know, dying, leaving everyone you 'care about'… all that crap." House rubbed his temples. I decided to ponder his question. Absorbing my surroundings, I realized that we were in a depressing place: a dark and lonely bar. Smoke from the cigarettes of drunkards filled the air, dimming the lights and stuffing my lungs full of poison. But that didn't disturb me. Nothing really seems to bother me now… now that I know I'm going to die. But I'm still a little scared… because I'm unsure.
We were silent for a moment until House added bitterly, "Do you even have anyone that you 'care about'?"
"…do you?"
He shrugged. "I don't know."
"You do know," I rolled my eyes. "You just don't want to tell me, because that would ruin my image of you. You want me to see you as a heartless bastard, but you're really--"
House took another shot and slammed the glass down. I waited for him to say something, but he refused. He just stared at me, his blue eyes boring into my own.
"What?" I asked nervously.
"…nothing." He paused and looked up at the television. "So what are you going to do, now that you know you're going to die? What do you want?"
"I want…" I hesitated, biting my lip. "I want answers. Answers to all of the questions I have." But I don't think I can do this alone…
"You want answers, huh. So do I," House stared at the empty glass in his hands, a look of interest forming on his face.
"Come on, let's get out of here." House stood up, grasping his cane. I followed him outside into the chilly night, staring at him as he walked over to his car.
"We should do this again sometime."
And as he opened his car door and stepped inside, I swear that I saw a smile creep onto his face. What the hell was that? Stepping into my own car, I began to think that this might be the start of something interesting.