House Fic.
Title: Ivory At My Fingertips
Series: House M.D.
Rating: PG
Pairing: None
Summary: A single lonely night.
----
House's hands moved mechanically over the white ivory keys of the black polished piano; there was a grace in his movements as he did so. His gaze was cast down upon his hands, but not really watching them, he was in his place.
A place where nothing but the resounding softness of the melody flowing about him was and he could be calm, free of pain and worldly distractions.
He closed his eyes, hands hands continuing their movements. This was his time to feel completely and utterly -- BEEP! BEEP!
House's eyes snapped open, his hands straightening and falling harshly upon the piano keys creating a semi-deafening sound as his pager went off, breaking him free of his reverie. His brows furrowed as he glared at nothing in particular in front of him momentarily, before sighing and grabbing his cane, flicking his beeper off on his side at the same time. He flipped his legs over the side of the piano bench and stood. He grabbed his jacket from the coat rack, limped toward his front door and the second he put pressure on his bum leg, he winced.
House reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the small perscription bottle of Vicodin he carried with him at all times. Opening it he poured two into his hand and popped them quickly, mulling them around his mouth just to get them wet enough to swallow without restriction. He did so and returned the bottle to his pocket, opened his door and left, into the world of where distractions and pain always came.
Series: House M.D.
Rating: PG
Pairing: None
Summary: A single lonely night.
----
House's hands moved mechanically over the white ivory keys of the black polished piano; there was a grace in his movements as he did so. His gaze was cast down upon his hands, but not really watching them, he was in his place.
A place where nothing but the resounding softness of the melody flowing about him was and he could be calm, free of pain and worldly distractions.
He closed his eyes, hands hands continuing their movements. This was his time to feel completely and utterly -- BEEP! BEEP!
House's eyes snapped open, his hands straightening and falling harshly upon the piano keys creating a semi-deafening sound as his pager went off, breaking him free of his reverie. His brows furrowed as he glared at nothing in particular in front of him momentarily, before sighing and grabbing his cane, flicking his beeper off on his side at the same time. He flipped his legs over the side of the piano bench and stood. He grabbed his jacket from the coat rack, limped toward his front door and the second he put pressure on his bum leg, he winced.
House reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the small perscription bottle of Vicodin he carried with him at all times. Opening it he poured two into his hand and popped them quickly, mulling them around his mouth just to get them wet enough to swallow without restriction. He did so and returned the bottle to his pocket, opened his door and left, into the world of where distractions and pain always came.