amber_v: How daaaaaaaaare you (suspicious)
amber_v ([personal profile] amber_v) wrote in [community profile] alwaysright2009-10-05 04:01 pm

30 October 2007 - Morning

A harshly loud, repetitive noise tore Amber from her sleep. Her first conscious thought, after the firm decision to destroy whatever was making that racket, was of the terrible crick in her neck. God, that hurt. Had she fallen asleep on a couch at the hospital? No, not with the breathing next to her; more like she'd fallen asleep on someone.

Someone. Eric.

Amber jolted, eyes opening wide to the sight of an equally sleep-addled Eric. It all came back to her. Approaching him after work. Fucking at the restaurant. Fucking him here-- or not. Amber covered her hand with her mouth. Jesus Christ, just how stupid could she be? Panicking like that, what was wrong with her? And worse, so much worse, falling apart, getting vulnerable and telling Eric those, those-- those things. That she liked him so very much and that she was a control freak and that she'd learn. She’d apologized all over the place and basically begged him to be patient with her. She'd handed Eric a big bowl of crazy an expected him to eat it up with a giant spoon and smile. He'd probably want to dump it into the sink.

And she'd done this over a man who could get her fired.

It was like she'd drunk an entire vat of wine and gotten down with her loser, sensitive side. Yeah, that was what last night had been about. One long losing streak. When had she gotten so off her game? Most women, when they had a few too many, had sex a little more liberally than they would otherwise, lived life a little more intensely. Amber, she got weak. God.

But, shock-rigid muscles relaxing, she studied Eric. She couldn't help the affection that glowed in her when she saw his face, a bit befuddled and tired and so very him. Couldn't help the feeling that pulled her to him, wanting closeness. She couldn’t resist him. During the night she'd cuddled up to him, hugging him. No wonder her neck and back were killing her, she wasn't used to sleeping around another person. He smelled of his dried sweat and her shampoo. "Hey," she said tenderly, her hand reaching out. Their first morning together, she'd climbed and kissed him without hesitation, taking it for granted that he'd want her. Now, she gauged his reaction. Last night he'd made vague promises; now she got to see if they didn't crumble in the light of day.
eric_foreman: Eric Foreman from House - eyebrow raised (eyebrow)

[personal profile] eric_foreman 2009-10-11 01:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Mentally swearing at a yellow light, Foreman risked shooting through an intersection before the red. Amber might not think so but he was already driving faster than he normally did, slotting the car into holes in the traffic, which was thankfully light this close to nine o'clock. As far as he could tell she'd stopped paying attention to his driving entirely. She was staring out the passenger window, head tilted to nearly rest against the glass, lips downturned at the corners. She wasn't supposed to be this still, or speak so softly that Foreman barely heard her crack about wooing police officers. It didn't sound like she really believed it. In fact, if her tone hadn't been nearly monotone, Foreman suspected it would have been wavering.

He didn't think it was up to him. It seemed that nothing was, lately, least of all his own feelings which insisted on ambushing him at every turn. He didn't want to leave things in the same state they'd been last night when they'd left the hospital, and although House's knowing smirk was a factor in that, it was at the bottom of the list. Foreman went home every night to get away from House. He didn't want to feel that way about Amber, ever.

Shooting a sideways look at Amber, Foreman knew he couldn't let her walk into the hospital like this. Reserved, cut off and remote. "It's not up to me." He sighed and looked ahead again. They were nearly at the hospital. This conversation couldn't last much longer. Whether that was a good thing or not, he didn't know. He raised his eyebrows, as close to throwing up his hands at the situation as he could be while still gripping the steering wheel. "But if I can be right, I want to be right about you. I want to be right about us." His lips moved in something like a smile. "I never want to be right about House."
eric_foreman: Eric Foreman from House - eyebrow raised (eyebrow)

[personal profile] eric_foreman 2009-10-11 05:46 pm (UTC)(link)
The hospital lot wasn't crowded. Foreman knew all the tricks for getting to his parking space in the least amount of time. Amber had only repeated what he'd tried to tell her in the first place. It wouldn't be fair for either one of them to act like the entire relationship was 'up to them'. He wasn't alone in this, or at least, he hoped like hell he wasn't. Amber's feelings counted too, no matter if she was doing her best to hide what those were. Compared to her vivacity when they were out, or alone, she'd retreated to the cool, collected queen, not letting a single emotion cross her face.

Letting out a defeated breath, Foreman pulled into his parking space. He checked his watch--they didn't have time to draw this out. It would be unprofessional, anyway. Leave their personal shit at the door and act through the day like nothing was going on. Fine. Amber wanted time. What else could he say to that? He'd tried to say as much and it felt like Amber had let his words slip past her without letting them touch her. His chest felt heavy, all those weights that had lifted when he'd first met Amber returning with a vengeance to tie him down, making it difficult to breathe, to walk, to hold up his head. "I do want this," he said quietly, shutting his car door firmly. Without waiting for an acknowledgment, he walked away from her, into the hospital.