Amber's surprise might've been funny, if it weren't so obscurely insulting that she thought he couldn't change, couldn't improve. Foreman set his lips, even though she relaxed slightly and looked less likely to storm out of the room shouting that she never wanted to see him again. Not that that'd be a reasonable position anyway, considering they still had to work together. Whatever they worked out between themselves, even if their relationship really was over, it'd have to tide them over at least until House was done with his bullshit game, and possibly years more after that. Foreman sighed, glad that Amber hadn't pounced on his admission and pointed out that the real problem was that he refused to read into an ANA test the results she'd wanted it to show.
He was still tensed up over every word that he'd pushed out. This was stuff he'd never told anyone. No one who mattered, he thought ironically, thinking of Lupe. You could admit anything to a dying woman. The woman you'd killed. He wasn't ready to tell Amber just how closely his last mistake was still following on his heels. Fucking him up. He wasn't perfect. He just had to pretend as hard as he knew how.
Foreman blinked and dragged his gaze up to meet her eyes when she casually said it's ruined. Somehow, even after the disaster of this fight, he hadn't expected that. His heart constricted as he stared at her. He shook his head. "I never said I didn't want to be with you," he said, trying to find his footing when it seemed that the solid ground had turned to sand under him. They were fighting, but he'd never thought that that offer had truly been his last chance. That if he didn't want to be with her once, he'd somehow said it was over between them forever. "How was sex going to solve an argument?" he asked. "We couldn't even talk." They'd been good together at least partly because they could laugh, and be gentle, and take their time. Foreman couldn't have done that if all he'd been thinking about was Casey back at the hospital and everything that was still stuck between them. "I wanted to wait, until..." Until the case proved one of them right or wrong. Until they'd worked it out.
Well, they were doing that. They were here now, talking. They'd proved they could. Every time they'd fought, they'd been able to bring themselves back to that feeling, the need, that'd been there between them right from the start. Foreman wasn't willing to give up this easily. He wasn't going to make the same mistake again, and be mocked--by House, this time--for being unable to learn. Foreman got to his feet, moved across the room to Amber, one hand reaching out to her so that he could twine his fingers with hers. Maybe. "I want you," he said, pouring all his intensity into searching her eyes. "If you don't, if it's over, Amber, honey, you're gonna have to tell me."
no subject
He was still tensed up over every word that he'd pushed out. This was stuff he'd never told anyone. No one who mattered, he thought ironically, thinking of Lupe. You could admit anything to a dying woman. The woman you'd killed. He wasn't ready to tell Amber just how closely his last mistake was still following on his heels. Fucking him up. He wasn't perfect. He just had to pretend as hard as he knew how.
Foreman blinked and dragged his gaze up to meet her eyes when she casually said it's ruined. Somehow, even after the disaster of this fight, he hadn't expected that. His heart constricted as he stared at her. He shook his head. "I never said I didn't want to be with you," he said, trying to find his footing when it seemed that the solid ground had turned to sand under him. They were fighting, but he'd never thought that that offer had truly been his last chance. That if he didn't want to be with her once, he'd somehow said it was over between them forever. "How was sex going to solve an argument?" he asked. "We couldn't even talk." They'd been good together at least partly because they could laugh, and be gentle, and take their time. Foreman couldn't have done that if all he'd been thinking about was Casey back at the hospital and everything that was still stuck between them. "I wanted to wait, until..." Until the case proved one of them right or wrong. Until they'd worked it out.
Well, they were doing that. They were here now, talking. They'd proved they could. Every time they'd fought, they'd been able to bring themselves back to that feeling, the need, that'd been there between them right from the start. Foreman wasn't willing to give up this easily. He wasn't going to make the same mistake again, and be mocked--by House, this time--for being unable to learn. Foreman got to his feet, moved across the room to Amber, one hand reaching out to her so that he could twine his fingers with hers. Maybe. "I want you," he said, pouring all his intensity into searching her eyes. "If you don't, if it's over, Amber, honey, you're gonna have to tell me."