amber_v (
amber_v) wrote in
alwaysright2010-06-20 12:04 pm
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November 10
As it turned out, House didn't comment on their tardiness or the fact that they arrived within minutes of each other. Amber barely even saw him: he didn't show up in the lecture hall nor in the clinic; she did run into him in the main lobby, but that was coincidence, catching him on his way out. He seemed distracted, gaze not focused on the people around him. Preoccupied, almost, though Amber wouldn't have known with what. He did sneer at her when he noticed her, so he couldn't have been too distraught.
It was another couple of slow days at work. Cuddy came in on Friday morning to push a case on them, but none of them were willing to hunt out House and force work on him, and anyway Kutner's guess of a diagnosis turned out to be right. Cuddy seemed miffed when she reported that fact to them and her expression was stiff with held-back anger as she reported them to the clinic, but what did Amber care? If Cuddy didn't like the situation, she could do something about it. Amber was playing by the rules.
And not having a case meant things were simple with the Dr. Foreman side of Eric. They couldn't forever avoid working together, and goodness knew how their future fights would get entangle itself in their relationship, but for now Amber was fine with being happy in love. Everything... just seemed lighter. The clouds seemed higher, the sky bluer, and sometimes, clacking along the corridors in her same heels and skirts, Amber felt like she was floating. It was impossible not to smile, to the point that one of her clinic patients asked her what was so damn funny about their eczema rash. And seeing Eric, smirking like they knew the world's best secret because they did-- that was the best.
Saturday rolled around, with them waking up together again in her bed, this time not thinking at all of time; they took their time kissing, wrestling in bed, fucking... by the time they were done, the late morning sun came in bright and strong and beautiful. Boneless and sated, Amber couldn't resist drifting off, curling in the light streaming over her bed. What harm could napping a bit do? They had the whole weekend ahead of them.
It was another couple of slow days at work. Cuddy came in on Friday morning to push a case on them, but none of them were willing to hunt out House and force work on him, and anyway Kutner's guess of a diagnosis turned out to be right. Cuddy seemed miffed when she reported that fact to them and her expression was stiff with held-back anger as she reported them to the clinic, but what did Amber care? If Cuddy didn't like the situation, she could do something about it. Amber was playing by the rules.
And not having a case meant things were simple with the Dr. Foreman side of Eric. They couldn't forever avoid working together, and goodness knew how their future fights would get entangle itself in their relationship, but for now Amber was fine with being happy in love. Everything... just seemed lighter. The clouds seemed higher, the sky bluer, and sometimes, clacking along the corridors in her same heels and skirts, Amber felt like she was floating. It was impossible not to smile, to the point that one of her clinic patients asked her what was so damn funny about their eczema rash. And seeing Eric, smirking like they knew the world's best secret because they did-- that was the best.
Saturday rolled around, with them waking up together again in her bed, this time not thinking at all of time; they took their time kissing, wrestling in bed, fucking... by the time they were done, the late morning sun came in bright and strong and beautiful. Boneless and sated, Amber couldn't resist drifting off, curling in the light streaming over her bed. What harm could napping a bit do? They had the whole weekend ahead of them.
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Amber wasted no time grabbing food herself at the table, with it being almost noon and with nothing eaten so far. She all but stuffed a few mouthfuls of pancakes and eggs, ravenous, and chased it down with a gulp of coffee. She'd done pretty well, as always. She wasn't a gourmet cook but she could more than prove herself-- and Eric evidently thought so, tearing into his own plate with just as much enthusiasm. Amber did not hold back a wide, proud smile, and pressed back against his foot. He did so like doing that, as if he couldn’t bear not to be touching her even during a meal. Did all couples do that? Did he do it with his other women? And why did she keep coming back to that? "Washington Park, you mean?" Amber asked, bringing a sausage to her plate. "Not much, I don't really have the time. It's just a bunch of trees." It might be nice for jogging, but Amber did most of her exercise indoors, and would be doing more of it once she joined up a basketball group at her gym. "Did you go there today?"
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