Foreman bristled when Chase ignored his question and acted like Foreman had left the door open for Chase to continue interrogating Foreman's life. He hated the sound of Chase drawling out 'that Amber girl', dismissing her without a thought. Grabbing his change, Foreman gave Chase another dark look and headed into the seating area. Chase was all too happy to throw more facile advice at his head. "Yeah, I figured that out, thanks," he said. It was the if you can make it happen that was so easy for Chase to say and apparently impossible for Foreman to pull off.
He led the way to a table and set his tray down only just short of a slam. Instead of sitting down immediately, he rested his hands on the table and stared at Chase. "I like her," he said, defying Chase to say anything about how fast it had happened or that it had happened at all. "And if House hears that, we'll probably be in for worse than you and Cameron ever got."
He slumped down into his chair at last. He stirred his coffee, spoon clinking against the sides of the mug. That wasn't the worst of it, by far. "And I don't know how to tell her." He'd fucked it up every time he tried. When he'd tried to be supportive, and when he'd tried to assert himself as separate from her without implicating both their personalities in some duel to the death. He glowered at Chase again, because if he suggested that Foreman set up a weekly schedule of announcing it, Foreman was going to walk out on him. He shook his head, feeling the tension drain out of him, replaced by hopelessness. He felt like a fucking idiot even admitting this out loud. At least there wasn't anybody nearby to overhear them. "Every time I throw myself back in I make it worse."
no subject
He led the way to a table and set his tray down only just short of a slam. Instead of sitting down immediately, he rested his hands on the table and stared at Chase. "I like her," he said, defying Chase to say anything about how fast it had happened or that it had happened at all. "And if House hears that, we'll probably be in for worse than you and Cameron ever got."
He slumped down into his chair at last. He stirred his coffee, spoon clinking against the sides of the mug. That wasn't the worst of it, by far. "And I don't know how to tell her." He'd fucked it up every time he tried. When he'd tried to be supportive, and when he'd tried to assert himself as separate from her without implicating both their personalities in some duel to the death. He glowered at Chase again, because if he suggested that Foreman set up a weekly schedule of announcing it, Foreman was going to walk out on him. He shook his head, feeling the tension drain out of him, replaced by hopelessness. He felt like a fucking idiot even admitting this out loud. At least there wasn't anybody nearby to overhear them. "Every time I throw myself back in I make it worse."