Date: 2008-12-10 01:01 pm (UTC)
Of course. Of course Foreman wouldn't believe him. Wouldn't take him seriously, or see any truth to what he'd said. It really was fucking ironic that nobody ever believed him when he told the truth. It fucking figured. House exhaled forcefully, seconds away from grabbing his clothes to dress again, let himself out, because there was no way in hell he was going to stand there and explain his feelings to Foreman.

He caught sight of Foreman's change of expression, though, and it made him pause. The widening of Foreman's eyes, the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed, as if he'd realized something important, and House wanted to know if Foreman actually had caught on to the fact that he'd been serious. But House straightened up, drawing a sharp breath as Foreman stood up and closed in on him with a couple long strides. Christ, Foreman looked intimidating, fucking scary, and House tried not to let that thought show on his face, pressing his lips together, trying to relax his features, smooth out the worried crease between his brows that he knew was there. He had no idea what to expect. He had a few guesses. A punch, somewhere--the gut, the face, a knee to the balls. He wasn't quite sure. Probably accompanied by shouting. That seemed likely.
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Wooed For Years

May 2009

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