Summary: (Huddy angst) Cuddy reflects on her feelings for a certain blue-eyed doctor.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own House. The poem, however, is my own.
Notes: I realize this is a little different, but I had two different ideas - a poem and a oneshot, and then I just kind of entwined them. I hope you like it. This is my first go at House fanfic, so any reviews would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!
Paradox
Lisa Cuddy sits in her office chair, staring intently at the crisp, white papers lying on the desk in front of her. However, she doesn't really see them. Her mind is not on her work.
Well, her mind is technically on her work, but not on the paperwork aspect of it. Invading her thoughts at the moment is a subject that worms itself into her brain far more often than she cares to admit.
Dr. Gregory House.
Just the thought of his name shoots conflicting signals all throughout her mind and body.
He controls her private world, that man, with his sardonic attitude and smart-ass remarks. She wonders if he knows it.
He probably does.
Paradoxically, he has
My hate, my love
Dormant feelings come to light
When he enters a room
A spark that brightens
The darkness which is my soul
She can't stand him, and yet she wants him. Her feelings are a constant, infuriating contradiction that refuses be ignored.
Is it wrong that she gets a thrill out of arguing with him? Is it wrong that sometimes she even looks forward to their sarcastic, rude-to-the-point-of-mean, exchanges? Or that when she sees him or talks to him, what feels like fifty alien emotions invade her senses, waking a part of her that otherwise remains dormant?
It would be more understandable if the emotions he evokes from her are merely pleasant ones - or even purely negative, but they aren't. Irritation, annoyance, and occasionally fury are mixed with the good, filling her with a mysterious paradox of feelings.
Irony in its finest
He tortures yet arouses
Completely engulfs
This thing I realize
Is myself
It's ironical, she realizes. How she is able to have these conflicting emotions about him. He latches himself onto her mind, paints himself on her soul. Work is her only distraction.
Does he know he is part of the reason she works herself to the bone, stopping only when she is dog tired or has something else that needs to be done? Does he know that she dreams about him? And not just sexy, intimate dreams. Sometimes, the dreams her twisted brain conjures are simply of them having one of their everyday arguments.
Wonderingly, I find
I care not the least
For this I know cannot last
I long only for release
From this paradox
In which I am trapped
And she doesn't like it.
Doesn't like it at all.
She doesn't like these ridiculously childish emotions. Lisa prefers everything black or white, and these feelings are smudged into ten thousand shades of gray.
It smothers her, this conflicting, chaotic fascination. And she knows she can never escape.
She is forever trapped in a paradox of emotions.
end