Chase passed a crumpled bill to the cashier and nodded in thanks when she returned the change in coins. He'd barely caught Foreman's scowl, as if his turmoil were Chase's fault, but even if Chase had missed it, he'd had known it was there. Foreman had never taken well to having his errors pointed out; of course he'd get uglier when it was about his personal life.
Sliding his tray onto the table and sitting down, Chase wondered if Foreman could hear himself and just how ridiculous he sounded. Though he was amusing, too. Not even when he'd been with Wendy had Chase seen him this affected. He didn’t have to say a word; Chase could tell how much he liked her from his levels of pissiness. He couldn't wait to tell Cameron that Foreman was making a fool of himself in love. Her expression would be priceless. "I don't know, you made it pretty clear to me. Have you tried telling her that way?" Chase had. He frowned into his sandwich, remembering. For weeks and weeks, past his own embarrassment threshold, he'd told Cameron he liked her. Wanted to be with her. At first it'd been liberating, fun, finally admitting to the feelings that, in retrospect, he'd nursed from the beginning. By the end it was agonizing, her refusals growing crueler and colder. He wouldn't take back a single one of those I Like Yous, but they'd been hard.
"And what makes you think House would be harder on you?" Admittedly, when House had revealed that he knew Chase and Cameron were sleeping together, he hadn't even had the decency to pretend to care. Probably thought it was funnier that way, making Cameron go crazy figuring out why he wasn't bothered, and Chase lovesick that the girl he was into wanted someone else. The worst House had ever done to them was be the object of Cameron's years-long crush, and Chase doubted that was Amber's case. Far as Chase could tell, nothing House did to Foreman would be as bad. Not that Chase would admit that. Foreman was the one spilling his guts, not him. Instead, Chase bit into his sandwich, listening to the rest of Foreman’s tale of woe.
By the end, Forman looked more miserable than a dog stuck in the rain. Chase had no idea what the details were-- from the sound of it, Foreman had been following after Amber forlornly wagging his tail, to no avail-- but they didn't matter. The end result was the same. He was fighting with the girl he liked and he didn't know what to do about it. "You asked if Cameron and I just made up and settled down. The answer is no." This much he didn't mind saying, since these problems felt more surmountable. "She won't move in with me, last week we fought whether or not I should operate on a guy that didn't have a chance in hell of living, and I can't stand the music she listens to." Chase shrugged. "More like we keep making up."
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Sliding his tray onto the table and sitting down, Chase wondered if Foreman could hear himself and just how ridiculous he sounded. Though he was amusing, too. Not even when he'd been with Wendy had Chase seen him this affected. He didn’t have to say a word; Chase could tell how much he liked her from his levels of pissiness. He couldn't wait to tell Cameron that Foreman was making a fool of himself in love. Her expression would be priceless. "I don't know, you made it pretty clear to me. Have you tried telling her that way?" Chase had. He frowned into his sandwich, remembering. For weeks and weeks, past his own embarrassment threshold, he'd told Cameron he liked her. Wanted to be with her. At first it'd been liberating, fun, finally admitting to the feelings that, in retrospect, he'd nursed from the beginning. By the end it was agonizing, her refusals growing crueler and colder. He wouldn't take back a single one of those I Like Yous, but they'd been hard.
"And what makes you think House would be harder on you?" Admittedly, when House had revealed that he knew Chase and Cameron were sleeping together, he hadn't even had the decency to pretend to care. Probably thought it was funnier that way, making Cameron go crazy figuring out why he wasn't bothered, and Chase lovesick that the girl he was into wanted someone else. The worst House had ever done to them was be the object of Cameron's years-long crush, and Chase doubted that was Amber's case. Far as Chase could tell, nothing House did to Foreman would be as bad. Not that Chase would admit that. Foreman was the one spilling his guts, not him. Instead, Chase bit into his sandwich, listening to the rest of Foreman’s tale of woe.
By the end, Forman looked more miserable than a dog stuck in the rain. Chase had no idea what the details were-- from the sound of it, Foreman had been following after Amber forlornly wagging his tail, to no avail-- but they didn't matter. The end result was the same. He was fighting with the girl he liked and he didn't know what to do about it. "You asked if Cameron and I just made up and settled down. The answer is no." This much he didn't mind saying, since these problems felt more surmountable. "She won't move in with me, last week we fought whether or not I should operate on a guy that didn't have a chance in hell of living, and I can't stand the music she listens to." Chase shrugged. "More like we keep making up."