Hello!

It has been a while, hasn't it?

I do feel a little bad that I have a bit of an angsty drabble this time. It ends well, though. It's set in season 7. There's nakedness involved. Should I T-rate this? Eh. Probably not.

Thank you for the feedback you guys left last time! Will try to update a bit sooner.

61. It brings out your eyes.

"I found this in the bottom of your drawer," Cuddy said as she walked down the hallway, hair still damp from the shower. House looked up, but instead of a warm feeling that never failed to put his mind at ease, the sight of her gave him a cold sweat. "How come you never wear it?"

She looked great – she always did when she wore his clothes. He adored seeing her in his oversized tee-shirts, underwear, shirts, etc., knowing the garment would be smelling like her later on. It was a form of intimacy that he enjoyed.

He also liked how it fit her, with the sleeves usually covering her hands, her silhouette hidden underneath the fabric. It made her seem smaller than she was, whereas at work she'd wear sharp, bright colours and high heels, demanding authority and respect. Here, with him – she could just be herself.

But this was his plaid robe.

After Mayfield, he'd found it in his stuff, buried it in a drawer, and forgotten about it. Getting rid of it had crossed his mind, but… How could he be sure he was really getting rid of it? What if his brain was playing tricks on him again? What if the robe mysteriously resurfaced later?

At the moment he was reconsidering that decision, because even though It had been well over a year, Cuddy was standing here, in his apartment, naked underneath the robe he'd worn after hallucinating an entire night with her.

He tried to rationalise – he wasn't on Vicodin, hadn't been for months. He hadn't relapsed. He was in a loving, stable relationship with Cuddy. They'd just had sex and she'd wanted to take a shower. She was curious, she'd gone through his drawer looking for something else to wear, and the robe just happened to be there.

Right?

"Are you okay? You look like you've just seen a ghost," she asked with an uneasy chuckle. Her laughter faded when she realised that he did look like he'd just seen a ghost.

In fact, he looked exactly like that time in her office after she'd fired him for shouting from the balcony that he had slept with her.

She would never forget that face. That look in his eyes.

She felt her blood go cold as she realised her mistake, although she didn't understand why her actions had brought up those awful memories. She stood frozen there for a second, unsure of her next step. He was just fine before, so clearly a recent change had just triggered those awful memories.

Ah.

She unknotted the belt and let the robe slip from her shoulders. "It's not my color anyway," she whispered, hoping it would be enough to erase her misstep.

His eyes were still absently fixated on her.

She bit her lip.

She sat on the couch beside him. He was desperately trying to relax, but she could see how tense his body was. She took his hand and pressed it against her cheek. "House," she said softly, making sure she had his undivided attention. "I'm real."

Tentatively, he rubbed the pad of his thumb against her cheekbone, trying to feel it for himself.

After a few seconds, she moved his hand, took it with both of hers, and rested it against her heart. "This is real."

He blinked a few times. Gave a short nod.

"I like you better naked, anyway," he replied in a still hesitant tone – but his words reassured her. He'd found his way back to himself. "It brings out your eyes. And other parts of you that I really like."

She grinned.

"You'll tell me all about them in the bedroom later tonight."

He squeezed her hands.