James Wilson woke with a start. He sat up straight on his couch of a bed. Though the room was dark, he began to remember what was going. It fluttered down, reality after reality in like a fresh snow fall the way one remembers things after a dream.
Brown glass bottles of beer lay at odd angles on the floor around him, and he could hear House snoring thickly from the room nearby. All the while the room itself was still reeling slightly. Shaking the drunkenness from his head James stumbled into his roommate's room, the cold floor against his bare feet making him shiver.
Still more beer bottles littered the floor of House's room.
"Good Lord" Wilson thought, "how long has it been since we've had this much to drink?"
He reached the side of House's bed, lifted his hand, and gave the doctor a smack upside the head.
"Whaaa" House said, still more than half asleep.
"I don't care if nothing else is on. I'm not going to drink beer all night and watch a romantic comedy again!" Wilson shouted, "It makes for weird dreams!"
House merely replied with a snore, probably too drunk to remember.
James stumbled back to his couch and took in the room once more: the moon shifted from behind a cloud and fell upon a lump tucked neatly underneath a window. A pair of folded up jeans and what was clearly a t-shirt.
"At least I thought it was a dream…" he thought to himself before falling back asleep.