Disclaimer: i no own nothing. esp. nothing related to house md.
A phone was ringing.
It hadn't been what awakened her.
She was sitting with her back resting against the headboard, the sheet bunched in her lap and a pillow hugged to her chest. Her hands were cupped over her mouth as she stared at the figure lying in bed next to her.
He was sleeping soundly, his arms tucked under his head, the bed sheet wrapped around his waist and tucked between his thighs – his legs slightly eagled and his back bare to the dim afternoon light – the cadence of his breathing creating fleeting shadows along his spine.
Her eyes scanned the wood floor, pausing at the articles of clothes that had actually made it into the bedroom with them and then shifting back to his face. He looked peaceful.
She smiled.
Her body was sore. Her shoulder blades were a tad sensitive from being pushed into too many doors and walls and the headboard she was now resting on. The muscles in her thighs were aching slightly from being stretched too wide for too long. She remembered the sweat that ran down between her breasts in a path across her abdomen and how it meshed with his as he pulled her into him, sitting up and wrapping his arms around her, shifting their weight when she winced in pain as she first felt her thighs begin to burn. She was aware of a constant tingling over her back and neck and breasts – a souvenir from his coarse stubble. She felt sticky and sated and she didn't know what the hell to do. She wanted to run. She wanted to crawl on top of him, wrap her legs around his waist and press her breasts into his back and just hold on.
She bit her lip.
She laid the pillow beside her and reached for him.