The Write Place: Beginnings
“That it's ok for you to care
Cause I'm not going anywhere
And while you wonder if you should let me in
I only want it to begin”
-Ben Lee “Begin”
Murphy was habitually an early riser. Her internal alarm clock was finely turned to walking her up at nearly five o’clock every day. That way she could fit in her morning run and allowed her a few hours before shift to review her cases. This morning was no different. At five o’clock her mind turned on and her body revved up but she didn’t get out of bed. This morning unlike other mornings she wasn’t alone.
House was still next to her, sprawled out over most of the bed and her. He still had an arm over her and had stolen most of the blankets. Clearly he was used to sleeping alone too and her presence didn’t make a damn bit of difference. She opened her eyes and watched him in the dim light that came through her bedroom windows. Even in sleep he looked tired and in pain, but the hard edge of his features was softer. He looked softer in general to her, almost like she could cuddle up against his side and he’d let her.
That was an insane thing to think, but she couldn’t deny that she felt the urge. It’d be nice to spend a morning tucked against a warm body instead of running in the cold. A few more hours of sleep without feeling alone, that was a serious temptation. Except she was thinking about curling up with House, who had broken into her house last night and climbed a flight of stairs to get where he was right now. What the hell was he doing there? He had turned her down when she offered him a place to stay while his pipes were fixed. Why would he contradict himself like this?
She had heard him pull up last night, listened while he broke in and then lay there while he climbed the stairs. Maybe other women would have been touched or had some grand romantic notions about that. House had climbed stairs for her, insert girly giggle and sigh here. Except she wasn’t other women. All this did was just make her frustrated.
What the hell was he doing climbing stairs just to lie in bed with her? It didn’t make any sense, not with the rules they had set up, not with who he was. If he had come to bug her about a case or have sex, then this wouldn’t have been strange at all. This was the sort of thing she would do, but she was always pushing the boundaries of their relationship. He fought every step of the way and now he had pushed them forward and it was screwing with her head.
It was… sweet. He had just said goodnight, put an arm around her and left it that. Why was he screwing with what they had? It worked. It was screwed up, sure, but they were screwed up people and it worked for them. If she struggled with softer, more complicated feelings for him well, that was her problem and she could handle that. If he was struggling with the same feelings, that would lead to complications and expectations neither one of them could meet. That was why they had this, because they couldn’t do anything normal.
This whole thing, lying there in bed with him, felt too good, too normal. The tightness her chest that had started last night while he struggled up the stairs and only gotten tighter when he laid down with her was too close to love for her to be happy or touched by what he’d done. How the hell were things supposed to stay the same when he was doing stupid, sweet things like breaking into her house? And how screwed up was it that she thought a B&E was sweet? She was used to how things had been. Now she didn’t want to get out of bed, she didn’t want to go in early. She wanted to lie there in his arms, cuddle up close and feel the tightness in her chest. She wanted things to change.
[ooc: Prompt response inspired by this fic by cant_have_any, who only serves to make my House/Murphy addiction worse and I love it.]
Cause I'm not going anywhere
And while you wonder if you should let me in
I only want it to begin”
-Ben Lee “Begin”
Murphy was habitually an early riser. Her internal alarm clock was finely turned to walking her up at nearly five o’clock every day. That way she could fit in her morning run and allowed her a few hours before shift to review her cases. This morning was no different. At five o’clock her mind turned on and her body revved up but she didn’t get out of bed. This morning unlike other mornings she wasn’t alone.
House was still next to her, sprawled out over most of the bed and her. He still had an arm over her and had stolen most of the blankets. Clearly he was used to sleeping alone too and her presence didn’t make a damn bit of difference. She opened her eyes and watched him in the dim light that came through her bedroom windows. Even in sleep he looked tired and in pain, but the hard edge of his features was softer. He looked softer in general to her, almost like she could cuddle up against his side and he’d let her.
That was an insane thing to think, but she couldn’t deny that she felt the urge. It’d be nice to spend a morning tucked against a warm body instead of running in the cold. A few more hours of sleep without feeling alone, that was a serious temptation. Except she was thinking about curling up with House, who had broken into her house last night and climbed a flight of stairs to get where he was right now. What the hell was he doing there? He had turned her down when she offered him a place to stay while his pipes were fixed. Why would he contradict himself like this?
She had heard him pull up last night, listened while he broke in and then lay there while he climbed the stairs. Maybe other women would have been touched or had some grand romantic notions about that. House had climbed stairs for her, insert girly giggle and sigh here. Except she wasn’t other women. All this did was just make her frustrated.
What the hell was he doing climbing stairs just to lie in bed with her? It didn’t make any sense, not with the rules they had set up, not with who he was. If he had come to bug her about a case or have sex, then this wouldn’t have been strange at all. This was the sort of thing she would do, but she was always pushing the boundaries of their relationship. He fought every step of the way and now he had pushed them forward and it was screwing with her head.
It was… sweet. He had just said goodnight, put an arm around her and left it that. Why was he screwing with what they had? It worked. It was screwed up, sure, but they were screwed up people and it worked for them. If she struggled with softer, more complicated feelings for him well, that was her problem and she could handle that. If he was struggling with the same feelings, that would lead to complications and expectations neither one of them could meet. That was why they had this, because they couldn’t do anything normal.
This whole thing, lying there in bed with him, felt too good, too normal. The tightness her chest that had started last night while he struggled up the stairs and only gotten tighter when he laid down with her was too close to love for her to be happy or touched by what he’d done. How the hell were things supposed to stay the same when he was doing stupid, sweet things like breaking into her house? And how screwed up was it that she thought a B&E was sweet? She was used to how things had been. Now she didn’t want to get out of bed, she didn’t want to go in early. She wanted to lie there in his arms, cuddle up close and feel the tightness in her chest. She wanted things to change.
[ooc: Prompt response inspired by this fic by cant_have_any, who only serves to make my House/Murphy addiction worse and I love it.]