Forgetting where she was, Cuddy stretched out a limber arm across the other half of the double bed; and pulled back once she realised House’s sleeping body volgende to her.

Cuddy carefully pulled the sheets up close to her bare chest, and looked around, at the mess they had both caused in the room. Her dress was flung on the floor like it was nothing.

“Morning.” A deep voice radiated behind her ear, making her tingle. She closed her eyes as his warm breath filled her ear, and taking her back to the feel of his lips and the touch of hands, only a few hours prior.

Feeling his apprehensive touch on her bare shoulder, she closed her eyes and gasped at the though that everything they had done that night, wasn’t a dream, it was real.

“Greg, although last night was very titillating, you’ve got to forget it.”

Her words were dead, an expert at reading people, House knew she wasn’t being sarcastic, and she wasn’t joking. He moved his hand off her shoulder, and leant back onto the hard wood headboard of the bed they were both sharing.

Cuddy slipped out from underneath the covers, not ashamed of her body as she proceeded to walk to the foot of the bed. House became infuriated deep within, as she began parading her naked body in front of him, after cutting him off completely. House was never the man to be made a fool of, but in this case, he couldn’t stomach the thought of reeling out a monologue of his usual sarcastic retorts, so he bit his tongue.

Picking up her dress, she placed it gently on the hotel lounge chair in the corner, and stood on her tiptoes to reach her bra from ontop of the tall lamp behind it.

“So that’s it then. u can easily forget a night like that?” House’s voice was coming from a curious point of view, since he hadn’t known Cuddy to be so detached. He was slightly concerned and also confused.

“Yes, I can easily forget a night like that.” Turning around, the look on Cuddy’s face, shame and annoyance, spoke a million words to House as he didn’t gaze at her body standing there, but at her eyes; her lids hanging heavy over them, and slightly glazed over.

There was a moment, just a moment, where House waited to read her as much as he could in them few silent seconds. So he could decipher her later, he had always seen Cuddy as an enigma, but today he saw her as a Faberge egg, so delicate yet made of hard materials, beautiful on the outside, yet unknown on the inside.

House had thought he was trying so hard to understand her more, but maybe he was holding himself back; afraid of knowing what he had always been intrigued door for all these years.

“Okay.” His voice, subtle, his facial expression, softening door the seconde as his bright blue eyes widened slightly as she moved casually towards the bathroom. Grabbing a complimentary badjas on the way, and putting it on without a hurry.


The gentle sound of the douche running urged House out of the bed and picking up his clothes that were strewn across the tacky carpet floor of the hotel room. Noticing something black and lacy underneath the bed, House began buttoning up his overhemd, shirt whilst investigating it further.

Holding out his long an athletic arm, he grabbed it and stood up straight, dangling the delicate lingerie in front of his eyes, turning his head to the side as it seemed to float back and forth due to the air conditioning, House smiled and his eyes lit up.

Putting his boxers and trousers back on, he continued to then put Cuddy’s riem, thong in his blazer pocket, before putting his dark brown worn out converse on his feet.

After checking the time on the alarm clock, House picked up his duffle bag, and threw his things in it, before leaving.

Cuddy stood in the douche basin, running her hands through her wet dark and limp curls. Looking into the showerhead as the water hit her face, she cried silently to herself. Grabbing the soap, she slowly massaged her arms and then her body, as if cleansing herself for breaking an unbreakable vow she set herself so many years ago.

Falling back into the trap that House had set was too much for her, as she stood there, numb to everything. The noise of the hotel room door closing made her jump, and she quickly turned off the shower, and cautiously put one foot on the cold bathroom floor tiles as she listened closely to the perceived silence.

“House?”

With no answer, and no noise, she wrapped herself in the bath robe, and towel dried her hair until the bounce in her hair came back and they popped back to the corkscrew curls that were her signature hairstyle.

Looking into the half foggy mirror of the bathroom, she swallowed a lump in her throat and used both her hands to push back her hair, away from her face. Exchanging a look of disgust with her reflection, she left the bathroom, and laid back down on the bed, were his smell still lingered on the bed sheets.