A/N: It's been almost an entire year since I first posted this story, but the long awaited second chapter is here. This story will now be frequently updated thanks to the reviewers:) I suppose my writing style has changed dramatically, but I hope all of the readers will enjoy this installment just as much!

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My eyes opened to the soft simmer in the back ground. Truthfully, it was probably that sensitive flower smelling piece of skin and bone between my eyes that awoke first. My mentality still dazed, and the pleasant aroma in the air only did much to sway me back to sleep. "Like a bad hangover," I murmured to myself.

"Probably worse, judging by how long you were out- Wilson could have diagnosed you as being in a coma." The cynical voice chipped in from behind me.

"I never asked you for your opinion," I stated crudely, aware of the crippled figure preparing dinner.

"I'm a doctor, it's my job to give it nonetheless." House said with a grin that quickly dissolved. His features tense, and the rhythmatic drumming on the oak table only worried me more.

I paused with no riposte in mind. There was an awkward silence that swept through while I examined the setting. The clock read 6:30, and somehow I was in my living room on the couch. The plain wooden furniture in 90 degree angles, the curtains drawn close. I sat up, only to feel my thighs ache. A silk blanket was placed over me, and I was positioned quite comfortably.

"House, what are you doing here? You have no right to be in my apartment, rummaging through my stuff." I whispered exasperated. My heart was still throbbing, and my emotions were ready to rise. His presence was comforting, but... it can't compare to being held in his arms,... to feeling his lips upon my own.

I was afraid, a grown coward. How pathetic...

"Well... being the gentleman I am, how could I possibly leave after you fainted?" House replied sarcastically.

"Pfft... " was all I managed to utter. The statement had brought a smile to my face, but under no circumstances was I to give him that satisfaction. I left myself open too many times, I can't deal with that rejection... not anymore.

My stomache growled lowly, and I noticed the lingering smell of coffee and... poptarts?

I looked up, making sure that the loss of blood had not permanently damaged my ability to smell. Sure enough, there was a table set for two, 2 empty pallid plates on either side with a bowl of strawberry poptarts without the icing. The steam from the coffee mugs set next to it.

I arched my eyebrow- why in the world would he make poptarts?

"Your fridge only had some yogurt and eggs, now that wouldn't be appropriate for dinner would it?" He remarked innocently, an amused expression set on his carved features.

"And poptarts are?" I stated, awed by his bloody brilliant logic. He casually shrugged. "Are you going to join me for dinner or what?"

I walked over and sat down, unnerved at his examinationOnly then did I realize, I was in a knee length pink sleeping garment from Victoria's Secret. The last I remembered, I was wearing a white blouse and a dress skirt. My eyes widened. What in the world did he do when I was sleeping?

He noticed my shock and said smugly, "I didn't think sleeping in your work clothes would be comfortable, so I took the liberty to... erm redress you." He said the last two words with a smirk on his face. It seemed the perfect thing to slap him, but my energy was sapped.

I merely glanced down, embarressed. By now, House had probably examined my scarred thighs, nevertheless every other inch of my body.

"Don't worry though, I was even considerate enough to replace that restraining bra with a tanktop." The smile on his face at that moment resembled a seven year old's.

A notion uncovered itself in the depths of my mentality, and fear sent shivers throughout my entire body. "Did my underwear not seem appropriate either?"

He never replied, the twinkle still apparant in his blue ocean eyes. His mouth opened after a few moments, and I panicked. Oh dear, he's going to bring up the cutting isn't he?

I looked for a quick escape, and there it was- the bathroom. I quickly mumbled an excuse and practically ran for the door. Oh look, a set of razors and a towel. How pleasant.

A half an hour later, I sat against the door with the razor ready to begin what was already routine.

But the bathroom door flew open and a breeze was almost distinguished. Bewildered by the sudden movement, I threw the razor in that direction. Self defense, I call it. To him, it was something completely different.

Sidenote: Thinking of maybe rewriting the first chapter, tell me what you think. Constructive criticism is appreciated :) Thanks again everyone, the success of the first chapter was overwhelming!