Hello all! Here's the next one! I'm approaching the end!
Wilson hated New York. He lost his luggage on his way here, had been mugged behind his hotel and was sick. It sucked. New York was cold. He hated the cold, and was under the impression House did, too. So he figured the best place to find him would be in the hospital.
He was walking outside his hotel when he figured why he didn't like it. He felt disconnected with everything. Everyone was so tightly packed and close together, but they weren't emotionally close. It was like, though he rubbed shoulders with everyone on the street, no one smiled at him. Everyone was plugged in; iPod, Handphone, MP3 player, laptop, Blackberry. No one was really there. He felt like he couldn't breathe. He felt alone, and it was strange, but he had to find House.
Perhaps this is why House liked it here. He never really liked it when people fussed over him, he was always emotionally detached. He never wanted pity, and in New York they wouldn't pity him. They wouldn't even notice him, and so he thrived.
He briefly wondered if he was doing the right thing, and shook himself out of it. Of course I am. I'm bringing House home. Right?
He kept walking in the chill of winter, and was about to cross the road when suddenly he froze. He could be wrong but there was a caduceus on the staff, held by the man crossing the road. He didn't dare look up, so he followed. The staff was the exact same colour, the exact same style. He knew because he helped him pick it out. He shivered, which had nothing to do with the cold, and looked upwards. Short grey-ish hair under a black almost-artistic beret, black long coat on jeans, sweetly familiar gait… there was no doubt. It was House. Greg, his mind corrected.
He didn't know why but he was still considering whether he should talk to House, or not. He couldn't get over the fact that maybe House was happier here, and maybe he would continue being happier if he didn't interfere in his life. Maybe…
He really couldn't continue with this train of though. A sweet idea came out, and he considered confronting House there and then, on the street. So if House responded badly, he could leave quick and easy. But he abandoned it. It would be weird to go up and hug a man on the street, and House might even hit him with his cane.
He considered and considered, all the while following House at a safe distance. For once he appreciated New York—there was no way in hell House would suspect that he was being followed, not when there were so many other people on the street.
He paused and thought—this was his last chance. He wouldn't come back again. But he couldn't bring himself to disturb House. He looked really happy, and settled. He didn't know how it would be if he interrupted, he kept thinking the same thought over and over again, and he when he looked up, House wasn't there anymore. Some part of him that believed in fate thought that the decision had been made for him. He accepted it, and turned around. This would be fun to explain to Cuddy and Edward.
He just wished there was a way to tell House that he loved him to bits. But he couldn't. He really couldn't. And that sucked.
Well? Do ya'll hate me yet? I'm sorry, I hate myself too… Nvm. R&R!
Love,
Lady Merlin