Just the three of us...
Who: House, Wilson, Cuddy
Where: Wilson's apartment
What: Dinner
When: Thursday night, 6.20pm
Complete
House was remarkably on time to Wilson’s place. He’d been told to get there at least by six-thirty instead of after. He’d left work at around five, went home and had a shower, dressed and aimlessly paced around his apartment until he got sick of feeling apprehensive and grabbed his helmet and jacket up, and left. Hanging around his apartment was making the whole thing feel more nerve-wracking than it was likely going to be. House wasn’t even sure what he was feeling nervous about, considering he and Cuddy managed to reach some form of mutual understanding of each other.
He rode to Wilson’s apartment and parked his bike up outside. House sat there for a moment, looking at Wilson’s apartment, wondering to himself exactly how tonight was going to pan out. He had no clue what to expect. He was pretty sure Wilson was feeling the same way. It was just dinner, he had to keep on reminding himself; dinner and that was it. He had no reason to be apprehensive about how Cuddy would react, no reason to worry about what she'd think about them -- right? Rubbing his hand over his face, he shook himself out of his insecure thoughts and dismounted the bike, took his cane up and then headed up towards Wilson’s apartment.
He wasn’t dressed in anything special -- jeans, t-shirt, a dark blue long-sleeved button down shirt over the top of that. He stood outside Wilson’s door and peered down at his watch -- six-twenty, the watch read -- before he drew in a deep breath and knocked on the door. The best way to be was just to be his usual self. There was no need to be anything else but.
"Hope you didn't expect me to bring anything," he greeted when the door was opened, hoping he appeared as relaxed and like his usual self as he was attempting to appear, "because if you did, too bad."
Where: Wilson's apartment
What: Dinner
When: Thursday night, 6.20pm
Complete
House was remarkably on time to Wilson’s place. He’d been told to get there at least by six-thirty instead of after. He’d left work at around five, went home and had a shower, dressed and aimlessly paced around his apartment until he got sick of feeling apprehensive and grabbed his helmet and jacket up, and left. Hanging around his apartment was making the whole thing feel more nerve-wracking than it was likely going to be. House wasn’t even sure what he was feeling nervous about, considering he and Cuddy managed to reach some form of mutual understanding of each other.
He rode to Wilson’s apartment and parked his bike up outside. House sat there for a moment, looking at Wilson’s apartment, wondering to himself exactly how tonight was going to pan out. He had no clue what to expect. He was pretty sure Wilson was feeling the same way. It was just dinner, he had to keep on reminding himself; dinner and that was it. He had no reason to be apprehensive about how Cuddy would react, no reason to worry about what she'd think about them -- right? Rubbing his hand over his face, he shook himself out of his insecure thoughts and dismounted the bike, took his cane up and then headed up towards Wilson’s apartment.
He wasn’t dressed in anything special -- jeans, t-shirt, a dark blue long-sleeved button down shirt over the top of that. He stood outside Wilson’s door and peered down at his watch -- six-twenty, the watch read -- before he drew in a deep breath and knocked on the door. The best way to be was just to be his usual self. There was no need to be anything else but.
"Hope you didn't expect me to bring anything," he greeted when the door was opened, hoping he appeared as relaxed and like his usual self as he was attempting to appear, "because if you did, too bad."