Open if you like roofs and frequent them.
The Who was blasting from the diagnostician's office. However, it didn't mean he was there. Because he wasn't there. Oh no. House wasn't done avoiding people, and the loud music was a distraction. Up on the roof, House stood, watching the soft flicker of light glazing across the horizon. He leaned on his cane, his mouth pursed in thought. Thinking was a temporary cure to who knows what.
His mouth twitched upwards in a slight secretive grin. Never in a million years would anyone guess he was up there. Seriously. It was difficult going up the stairs for House. But it really didn't matter when you had lots of time, lots of energy, and nothing to do. Not that House had nothing to do. There was always something. But as Stacy had said. He avoided work like the plague, unless it was the plague.
His mouth twitched upwards in a slight secretive grin. Never in a million years would anyone guess he was up there. Seriously. It was difficult going up the stairs for House. But it really didn't matter when you had lots of time, lots of energy, and nothing to do. Not that House had nothing to do. There was always something. But as Stacy had said. He avoided work like the plague, unless it was the plague.