A sharp intake of breath shot through my openly parted lips as a calloused hand touched the bare skin of my shoulder. A shiver ran through my veins, circling my anatomy before reaching the surface of my skin, causing my body to shudder accordingly. I couldn't help but let my eyes drift shut as the coolness from the palm seeped through the warm sweat that lined my skin. "Boo." he said and the raspy voice made my knees weak. I sharply sat down on the bench the back of my shins were touching, and exhaled shakily. The warmth of the locker room accompanied by the exhaustion from my 4:00am workout clouded my thinking. This was not going to end well. His body huffed down next to my left side. My mind raced with reasons as to why he was behaving so uncharacteristically, I couldn't make my mind up. I turned my head to the left to see he was just staring blankly ahead. I followed his hollow gaze to see my open locker. I wondered what on earth he could be staring at, and thats when I noticed it.
"Shit." I breathed urgently as my body pushed hastily upwards. Stumbling into my locker, it snapped shut, creating a deafening, undescribable noise that echoed through the eerily empty, tiled room. He burst out with a shroud of intimidating laughter. This was definitely not like him. "Fuck off." I cursed, determined not to let him how much his presence affected. His ego feeds off of that. I stood in front of his sitting body and, even though I was taller, the atmoshpere still screamed that he was in control. He always was. For the first time this night I saw him, I mean, really saw him. The bags under his eyes seemed to be etched deeper (whether that was due to the poor lighting I wasn't sure), the whites of his eyes were cracked with dominating streaks of red and his hands were clutching his leg. I was sure an expresson of sympathy swept across my face before I wiped it away, knowing how he responds to feelings. I slowly walked towards him and his laugh faded as if it was being sucked unwillingly out of his already miserable body, his face dropped. I settled my body down on the hard, metal bench as I, too, looked ahead at nothing. "hey." I whispered softly, as his attention turned to me his head followed, staring me in the eye
"Hi..." He replied. His breath reeked of alcohol and thats when I realised... He was drunk. Very drunk. I sighed and then tensed up, overly sure there was a pinch of disapointment in my tone. I placed a hesitant palm on his shoulder, hoping it would send a message of reassurance.
"It's okay." I told him as I rubbed small circles on the shoulder of his black Tee Shirt. The only response I got was a confidence shattering sigh. His usually bright blue, icy eyes shone dark and damp, like a polluted lake instead of the magnificant, grand, bright blue pools of ocean they usually were and they gazed right into my own, the staring made me feel ill at ease and I turned away, hoping to break contact entirely I pulled my hand off his body harshly and sharp before lacing my fingers and placing them casually on my lap. I closed my eyes to try and keep my calm but I saw his eyes on the back of my eyelids. I saw his, lightless, lifeless, drug and alcohol induced eyes stareing hopefully at me and guilt smacked my gut. "You wanna grab bite to eat?"
"Yeah because resturants are open at 4:00am." He replied sarcastically and the look on his face illistrated-clear as day-that he actually meant to offend me.
"You know what?!" I yelled as the tiles of the room projected my voice louder than I had hoped. I rose from my seat to try and assert at least a smidge of dominance. I stood over him, casting a shadow over his face. "I know several people, most of whom work on your team, that would've got up and left without hesitation when you entered a 5 yard radius of this room. You should be grateful! Not everyone is as forgiving, patient and optimistic as Wilson. Not everyone will put up with you and your crap, House!" I yelled as my voice almost broke from nervousness, guilt and emotional pain. I stormed angrily out of the locker room, fully aware I was still wearing my gym clothes. I tempestuously walked towards the female toilets nearest the changing rooms. Wiping stray, conditional tears off of my cheeks I pushed the big door ajar, being skeptical to not get pale green paint flecks on my palms from the peeling old paint job. I rushed over to the sinks and placed both sweating palms on the cold porcalain surface and my head fell forward, ashamed. A single sob escaped my now dry, cracked lips and I could no longer hold it in, tears fell lament from my eyes freely. The only thing breaking the soft bawls that dominated my throat were jittery, erratic breaths that seemed to scratch my throat as they were liberated from my body. taking a big gulp of the humid air, I rose my head slowly to look in the recently cleaned bathroom mirror. My hair was scraggly and straw like, wet from the sweat of my previous workout and it was pulled back in a now messy ponytail. there were dark rings directly underneath my eyes, emphasising the fact I had been completely and utterly sleepless and sleep deprived for almost a week now. I felt another sob building in my chest throat and I, again, dropped my head to face the sink as it escaped. The guilt and anxiety of before rekindled in my stomach, I felt the creak of the door sound and the clack of heels on the floor but I couldn't hold it in. I retched into the sink and liquid came rushing forcefully through my throat. I heard the clack of heels quicken and get ever so slightly louder and intense as someone gripped my pony tail, pulling it out of the way as it fell in front of my face. I tried harder than possible to stop but another retch boiled up from my stomach and into my neck, pouring my lunch into the sink. My rapid breathing was persistant as I moved from being hunched over the small bowl of the sink. I clamped my eyes shut hoping whever was gallent enough to hold my hair back wouldn't recognise me. I took an unsteady step back into the middle of the moderately sized bathroom, catching a glimpse of the woman I immediately felt sick again
"My boss just watched me throw up." I stated before throwing myself at the sink and throwing up once again.
"Woah, easy, easy. It's okay." Cuddy spoke in soothing tones. She handed me a tissue from a cubicle as I sheepishly and awkwardly wiped my mouth. I walked backwards away from the sink until I felt the cold tiles of the bathroom wall. Restricting me from going any further, I bent my knees and slid down the wall, hugging my knees against my chest. My eyes were shut as my brain refused to open them and stare into the disappointed face of Lisa Cuddy.