Wilson tilted his head, studying House closely. He'd had more than enough opportunities to see House when his leg was acting up, and something wasn't ringing true about his performance. House wasn't looking at him, which wasn't different from how he acted when he really was in pain. But he also wasn't moving with the tense deliberation that he used when he was trying to hide the fact that he was hurting. House didn't steady himself or sit down when he pulled on his t-shirt. House usually didn't try so hard to make his leg an excuse--in fact, usually only when he needed an excuse. Wilson narrowed his eyes when House turned to face him, tilting his head skeptically, and then looked at the bed.
The sheets were a mess, which could be the result of a very restless night, but combined with the distinct scent in the air, Wilson had a much better explanation for House's surly attitude and the lack of eye contact. He couldn't help it--he chuckled and shook his head. "I can't believe you," he said. House had made him rush over here when all he'd been doing was getting a little better acquainted with his right hand. "You couldn't have called if something, uh, came up?"
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-02-28 09:09 am (UTC)The sheets were a mess, which could be the result of a very restless night, but combined with the distinct scent in the air, Wilson had a much better explanation for House's surly attitude and the lack of eye contact. He couldn't help it--he chuckled and shook his head. "I can't believe you," he said. House had made him rush over here when all he'd been doing was getting a little better acquainted with his right hand. "You couldn't have called if something, uh, came up?"