IT'S A TERRIBLE DRABBLE. But it's exactly one hundred words, so that's cool, right? I've never done that before.
It was mid-afternoon and the diagnostics office was full again. White-coated Cameron, Foreman and Chase sat in their chairs around the table; House stood by his board, one hand resting on his cane and his body slightly bent in an effort to better support his weight. Looking through the glass from outside was different; usually he would be in the room with them. House was in his element here, and he felt he didn't belong. He cared, and he cared, and he cared, but he wanted to be the object of another's appreciation for once.
Wanted, secretly, to be loved.