Title: Battlefield
Author: Tahhhlie
Category: House/Cameron Angst
Summary: Pain slams into pain… "Don't you want to play anymore?"
Notes: This was written in the thirty minutes I had dedicated to studying for my exams. I have never attempted a House fic before and was hesitant to post it. I'd love to receive feedback and I understand that the writing style or content might not appeal to everyone. If you don't like it, please be constructive in your reviews so I can learn from them. Hope you enjoy.
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He enters the room, and their eyes connect, as usual, grey slamming into blue, pain slamming into pain, and yet there's a hint of lust, though its one-sided, she thinks, as usual, and she pulls away, though his gaze lingers, and she can feel it, and she tries to suppress the tears that threaten to fall. His cane echoes in the sparsely decorated room, click click click, imitating her heart beat as he moves closer. She feels her muscle tense and she holds her breath and her eyes close, just briefly, and she hopes he doesn't notice but knows he does, as he leans over her shoulder and his scent, God, she'd recognise it anywhere, and she wants to breathe it in but she doesn't, and then he whispers to her, letting his breathe tickle her ear and his stubble grazes her cheek and she knows it was intentional. "Gazing at me like that, makes me feel like you're in love with me," and her anticipation turns to anger, and her eyes flash, and he smirks, and she can't help but want him and he knows this too, of course, which is why he did it in the first place, and she wonders what he'd do if she kissed him, now, and pushed him up against the wall so that he feels what she feels because she knows he would if let himself let her. And yet she sits there and he is still close and looking at her, piercing her, and she can feel him read her, all of her, and she can't hide, and he leans closer now and there is only a slight moment of hesitation, deliberation, before he bites her ear, slowly, and she feels herself sliding away, letting go and she wonders if she has any control at all anymore as he body tingles with his nearness, and she closes her eyes, not holding her breath anymore, but shaking, slightly. "Why are you doing this to me?" she whispers, her voice wavering, and she wants to turn and look at him but his body is pressed against hers, "This is what you want, isn't it?" And she does, she wants this, so badly it hurts and she can't look at him without remembering the taste of his lips on hers, but she hates him too, "This isn't a game" she says, still now, breathing even, a façade broken by her heart, pumping harder in her chest and she wishes she would move, just a little, so she can breathe air that doesn't smell like him, but she doesn't want this, not really, because his touch and his scent are intoxicating and its her Vicodin, and she trembles again when he moves to her other side, pressing his lips to her neck, sucking on the tender flesh and she tries not to moan, but God, its almost too much. "Don't you want to play anymore?" he asks, his lips, kisses, trailing up her neck to her jaw line, and she wants to say no, that she doesn't want him like this, she wants all of him, his kisses, yes, but his heart, first, but she can't, not when he reaches the corner of her mouth, and the tears fall now and she can't stop them, and he pauses, inches away, and he places his fingers under her chin, drawing her eyes to him and she can't resist and they stay there, in that moment, poised, the tears falling silently, her breath haggard at his touch and she whispers, softly and he has to strain to hear, "I don't want you to play with me," she answers and still he stares, before kissing her, now, hard and painfully, his tongue burning its path in her mouth and he bites her lip and she tastes blood and when she moves her hands to his chest he pulls away and her mouth opens, lips parted, and she licks her lips and tastes him. "What do you want, then, Allison?" And the way he whispers her name, its carnal, and she knows he wants her, now, here, and she wants it too but she can't, for to give in is to lose herself completely. "I want you to let me play with you" she whispers and he doesn't answer, just stares at her, searches her, "but I don't like that game" he answers and before she can respond her kisses her again and its harder and more passionate than before but all she can taste now is control, and he is pressed so hard against her and she can't move. She continues to cry and she feels the dull ache that began in her chest spread until she feels it throughout her entire body and its clouding her mind and her senses so she can't even taste him anymore or feel him pull away and place his forehead against hers or see him smile sadly. She knows he's done it this time, he's broken her and as he kisses her for the final time and moves away, his cane echoing, click click click, imitating her heart beat, she looks at him. "Love isn't a game" and she doesn't know what she expected him to say or if she expected him to say anything at all but when he looks at her, grey slamming into blue, pain slamming into pain, he knows it too, and she wonders if he's sorry, at least a little bit, but then he smirks, "No, Cameron, love is a battlefield" and with that the door closes on her, and he's gone, again.