Hunger - Chapter 8
OK, here's chapter 8
Brought to you by adderall.
"Hunger"
House/Cam
PG
Cameron sat at home that night curled up into the corner of her sofa wearing the same clothes she'd worn that day at work. The only different was that she'd discarded her shoes as soon as she'd gotten in the door. Her tiny apartment was quiet and dark, with only a small antique lamp casting a dull yellow light over her pale face. Her TV wasn't on, she wasn't reading, and her laptop lay abandoned on her coffee table along with her cell phone. She was thinking.
After he'd kissed her, neither of them had spoken for a moment. They'd stared into eachother's eyes for a moment, Cameron doing her best not to let the tears that we welling up at the corners of her eyes fall. Eventually the silence had become too akward and House had turned and retreated back into his office, throwing an order over his shoulder for Cameron to find Chase and help him finish the tests before lunch. She'd scurried off, not sure what to really say, and had spent the rest of her afternoon in the clinic, while Chase argued over the merits of adding more antibiotics to their patient's treatment with House.
Foreman had finally meandered into the hospitol at around one in the afternoon and Cameron gave him a small smile and a shaky wave as he passed. Foreman smiled and nodded in reply before making his way grudgingly to the elevator and up to the diagnostics office.
Now, sitting at home in the silence, Cameron finally let herself replay the kiss in her mind. What did it mean? He said he loved me, he kissed me, then he fucking walked away and ignored me the rest of the day.
She was still dumbstruck. She'd finally gotten what she wanted, House loved her, and he'd admitted to it, but now what?
She wasn't dumb enough to think that they'd just start dating and everything would be perfect. Hell, she wasn't even sure if they'd ever even go on a date. He had avoided her all day, not that she had been actively seeking him out.
She pulled herself up off her couch and headed toward the bathroom for a quick shower. As she shed her clothes she let her hands slide over her ribs, as she always did. Counting them. It comforted her. She slide her fingertips over her hipbones next and smiled a small smile of satisfaction at the amount they stuck out. Once she was completely naked she turned toward her scale. It was a stare down. She hadn't used her treadmill at all that day - she'd been too occupied with obsessing over House to even think about it, luckily, she thought, she'd also been to distracted to feel hungry. A pang shot through her stomach and she reveled in the joy of her "accomplishment". Suddenly she felt a bit braver her stepped onto her scale.
100
She let a sigh of releif slip from her lungs as she mentally catalougued the number. 100. A simple, even number. She was almost happy with it. She stood there for a moment in her bathroom, naked, just staring at the number.
Finally she bent and turned her faucet on and rivulets of water poured from her shower head. As she climbed into the tub she let the warm water relax her aching muscles. Her back hurt almost all the time now, and even her knee joints and bottom were almost constantly sore. She let her mind wonder again to the look in House's eyes as he'd said he loved her, the feel of his lips and hands on her, the smell of his cologne as he'd drawn near to her.
This is what I've always wanted, she thought to herself. He loves me, he said it and he didn't take it back. Something is going to happen. It has to.
Then, suddenly she was struck by a startling realization. He thinks I'm sick, He's never going to do anything if he thinks I'm sick.
She managed to easily ignore the irritating voice inside her mind that seemed to scream "Well, maybe you are sick, idiot."
Her heart sank. Hadn't she started all this because of him, so he'd think she was beautiful? So he'd notice her? She felt heartbroken at the irony that she was so close to having what she'd always wanted, because of this... thing she was doing - this "diet" - and now it was the very thing that might keep her from being with him.
So what now? she pondered as she rinsed her hair and stepped out of the steamy shower. She wrapped a towl around her body and walked into her bedroom to sit on the bed.
If I quit.... I'll get fat again. and he won't want me. He's finally noticed me, but he thinks I'm sick. He loves me, and he thinks I'm sick.
I'm not sick she chided her conciousness before she had time to question herself again.
She sat on her bed a long time, towel draped over her body, hands knitted together. When she finally stood up and let the soft cloth slide from her frame she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She eyed herself again carefully. Her skin was pale - paler than normal for her - her eyes were sunken in and her lips were thin and cracked. She turned away, disgusted, and dressed in her nightclothes as quickly as possible.
I need to talk to him. she thought to herself, I'll convince him I'm not sick. I'm just finally losing some weight, guys like skinny girls. House loves me. Because I'm getting skinny, he'll like me more now. He just doesn't want me to feel bad, he cares.
She picked up the phone to call him but stopped herself as she noticed the time glaring at her from her cellphone. It was nearly 10pm and House would be out with Wilson. She'd heard Wilson mention a hockey game and of course House would only agree to go if Wilson promised alcohol afterward. They'd be out late, the game didn't even start till 8 o'clock. She shut the phone again and dropped back down onto her bed.
Tomorrow. she promised herself.
I'll eat one of his stupid bagels and tell him how dumb he is being. One bagel won't hurt, I won't eat anything else. And I didn't eat today either. He doesn't have to know. I'll eat it in front of him and then he'll see I'm fine.
She sat her cellphone on her nightstand and lay on the floor to do her nightly crunches and push-ups. Her knees just hadn't been up to the challenge of the treadmill that night so she'd make up for it with 50 extra of each, and get up extra early in the morning to get a run in.
As she fell into bed that night feeling exhausted and weak she promised herself she'd be good (bad?) - if only for House, and eat the bagel. She was in the midst of contemplating how many calories one whole wheat bagel could actually contain when the tinny ring of her cellphone startled her to attention.
She leaned up and glanced at the display;
It was Wilson.
"Cameron" she answered professionally.
"Ah, hey, yeah, Hi. It's me, Wilson, I hope I didn't wake you." he sounded anxious.
"No." she replied quickly, wondering why he was calling so late. "What's up, Dr. Wilson? It's after midnight. Is everything OK?"
"well," Wilson hesitated, not sure how to continue. When he didn't speak for a moment Cameron broke the silence, eager to get to the bottom of this so she could get some sleep,
"Dr. Wilson..?"
"Yeah, sorry. Cameron, it's House. He was acting weird all night tonight rambling on about bagels and girls being so damn stupid and then something about you and him kissing and I was just wondering..."
Cameron sighed. "Yeah, he.. kissed me... but then he avoided me all day."
"Yeah," Wilson continued, "Well he sounds really upset. I mean, you know how House can be but this is different. And I can't help wondering if it has something to do with how much weight you've been losing. Cuddy told me you almost fained the other day."
Of course she told him, they're practically screwing in her office, thought Cameron bitterly.
"Wilson, I'm fine. House thinks everyone is stupid, and he may have kissed me but he sure as hell hasn't given any sign of-"
Wilson cut her off, "He loves you. You're sick. You need to get help. And you need to talk to House."
Cameron was too tired to argue.
"I'm going to talk to him tomorrow. I'm not sick, I'm on a diet, and if he loves me he should try something other than pretending like I don't exist, or treating me like a child."
Wilson sounded exhasperated. "Trust me, he knows you exist. He never asks me for advice, at least not directly, but tonight I couldn't even watch the game for all the ranting and questions he was throwing at me."
"Well, I'm sorry he ruined your night talking about me. I assure you there is nothing to worry about. Don't indulge him."
She heard Wilson sigh into the phone line and detected a hint of defeat in his tone when he spoke again, "Alright, if you say so Cameron. But You sure as hell better talk to him because I've never seen him like this before. At least not since before Sta- not in a long time" he corrected himself.
"I will, I'll talk to him."
"Good, " replied Wilson, "And Cameron?"
"yeah?"
"We all care about you. Please don't forget that."
and before Cameron could speak again the line went dead. Cameron fell asleep that night more conflicted and confused than she'd ever felt in her life.
Brought to you by adderall.
"Hunger"
House/Cam
PG
Cameron sat at home that night curled up into the corner of her sofa wearing the same clothes she'd worn that day at work. The only different was that she'd discarded her shoes as soon as she'd gotten in the door. Her tiny apartment was quiet and dark, with only a small antique lamp casting a dull yellow light over her pale face. Her TV wasn't on, she wasn't reading, and her laptop lay abandoned on her coffee table along with her cell phone. She was thinking.
After he'd kissed her, neither of them had spoken for a moment. They'd stared into eachother's eyes for a moment, Cameron doing her best not to let the tears that we welling up at the corners of her eyes fall. Eventually the silence had become too akward and House had turned and retreated back into his office, throwing an order over his shoulder for Cameron to find Chase and help him finish the tests before lunch. She'd scurried off, not sure what to really say, and had spent the rest of her afternoon in the clinic, while Chase argued over the merits of adding more antibiotics to their patient's treatment with House.
Foreman had finally meandered into the hospitol at around one in the afternoon and Cameron gave him a small smile and a shaky wave as he passed. Foreman smiled and nodded in reply before making his way grudgingly to the elevator and up to the diagnostics office.
Now, sitting at home in the silence, Cameron finally let herself replay the kiss in her mind. What did it mean? He said he loved me, he kissed me, then he fucking walked away and ignored me the rest of the day.
She was still dumbstruck. She'd finally gotten what she wanted, House loved her, and he'd admitted to it, but now what?
She wasn't dumb enough to think that they'd just start dating and everything would be perfect. Hell, she wasn't even sure if they'd ever even go on a date. He had avoided her all day, not that she had been actively seeking him out.
She pulled herself up off her couch and headed toward the bathroom for a quick shower. As she shed her clothes she let her hands slide over her ribs, as she always did. Counting them. It comforted her. She slide her fingertips over her hipbones next and smiled a small smile of satisfaction at the amount they stuck out. Once she was completely naked she turned toward her scale. It was a stare down. She hadn't used her treadmill at all that day - she'd been too occupied with obsessing over House to even think about it, luckily, she thought, she'd also been to distracted to feel hungry. A pang shot through her stomach and she reveled in the joy of her "accomplishment". Suddenly she felt a bit braver her stepped onto her scale.
100
She let a sigh of releif slip from her lungs as she mentally catalougued the number. 100. A simple, even number. She was almost happy with it. She stood there for a moment in her bathroom, naked, just staring at the number.
Finally she bent and turned her faucet on and rivulets of water poured from her shower head. As she climbed into the tub she let the warm water relax her aching muscles. Her back hurt almost all the time now, and even her knee joints and bottom were almost constantly sore. She let her mind wonder again to the look in House's eyes as he'd said he loved her, the feel of his lips and hands on her, the smell of his cologne as he'd drawn near to her.
This is what I've always wanted, she thought to herself. He loves me, he said it and he didn't take it back. Something is going to happen. It has to.
Then, suddenly she was struck by a startling realization. He thinks I'm sick, He's never going to do anything if he thinks I'm sick.
She managed to easily ignore the irritating voice inside her mind that seemed to scream "Well, maybe you are sick, idiot."
Her heart sank. Hadn't she started all this because of him, so he'd think she was beautiful? So he'd notice her? She felt heartbroken at the irony that she was so close to having what she'd always wanted, because of this... thing she was doing - this "diet" - and now it was the very thing that might keep her from being with him.
So what now? she pondered as she rinsed her hair and stepped out of the steamy shower. She wrapped a towl around her body and walked into her bedroom to sit on the bed.
If I quit.... I'll get fat again. and he won't want me. He's finally noticed me, but he thinks I'm sick. He loves me, and he thinks I'm sick.
I'm not sick she chided her conciousness before she had time to question herself again.
She sat on her bed a long time, towel draped over her body, hands knitted together. When she finally stood up and let the soft cloth slide from her frame she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She eyed herself again carefully. Her skin was pale - paler than normal for her - her eyes were sunken in and her lips were thin and cracked. She turned away, disgusted, and dressed in her nightclothes as quickly as possible.
I need to talk to him. she thought to herself, I'll convince him I'm not sick. I'm just finally losing some weight, guys like skinny girls. House loves me. Because I'm getting skinny, he'll like me more now. He just doesn't want me to feel bad, he cares.
She picked up the phone to call him but stopped herself as she noticed the time glaring at her from her cellphone. It was nearly 10pm and House would be out with Wilson. She'd heard Wilson mention a hockey game and of course House would only agree to go if Wilson promised alcohol afterward. They'd be out late, the game didn't even start till 8 o'clock. She shut the phone again and dropped back down onto her bed.
Tomorrow. she promised herself.
I'll eat one of his stupid bagels and tell him how dumb he is being. One bagel won't hurt, I won't eat anything else. And I didn't eat today either. He doesn't have to know. I'll eat it in front of him and then he'll see I'm fine.
She sat her cellphone on her nightstand and lay on the floor to do her nightly crunches and push-ups. Her knees just hadn't been up to the challenge of the treadmill that night so she'd make up for it with 50 extra of each, and get up extra early in the morning to get a run in.
As she fell into bed that night feeling exhausted and weak she promised herself she'd be good (bad?) - if only for House, and eat the bagel. She was in the midst of contemplating how many calories one whole wheat bagel could actually contain when the tinny ring of her cellphone startled her to attention.
She leaned up and glanced at the display;
It was Wilson.
"Cameron" she answered professionally.
"Ah, hey, yeah, Hi. It's me, Wilson, I hope I didn't wake you." he sounded anxious.
"No." she replied quickly, wondering why he was calling so late. "What's up, Dr. Wilson? It's after midnight. Is everything OK?"
"well," Wilson hesitated, not sure how to continue. When he didn't speak for a moment Cameron broke the silence, eager to get to the bottom of this so she could get some sleep,
"Dr. Wilson..?"
"Yeah, sorry. Cameron, it's House. He was acting weird all night tonight rambling on about bagels and girls being so damn stupid and then something about you and him kissing and I was just wondering..."
Cameron sighed. "Yeah, he.. kissed me... but then he avoided me all day."
"Yeah," Wilson continued, "Well he sounds really upset. I mean, you know how House can be but this is different. And I can't help wondering if it has something to do with how much weight you've been losing. Cuddy told me you almost fained the other day."
Of course she told him, they're practically screwing in her office, thought Cameron bitterly.
"Wilson, I'm fine. House thinks everyone is stupid, and he may have kissed me but he sure as hell hasn't given any sign of-"
Wilson cut her off, "He loves you. You're sick. You need to get help. And you need to talk to House."
Cameron was too tired to argue.
"I'm going to talk to him tomorrow. I'm not sick, I'm on a diet, and if he loves me he should try something other than pretending like I don't exist, or treating me like a child."
Wilson sounded exhasperated. "Trust me, he knows you exist. He never asks me for advice, at least not directly, but tonight I couldn't even watch the game for all the ranting and questions he was throwing at me."
"Well, I'm sorry he ruined your night talking about me. I assure you there is nothing to worry about. Don't indulge him."
She heard Wilson sigh into the phone line and detected a hint of defeat in his tone when he spoke again, "Alright, if you say so Cameron. But You sure as hell better talk to him because I've never seen him like this before. At least not since before Sta- not in a long time" he corrected himself.
"I will, I'll talk to him."
"Good, " replied Wilson, "And Cameron?"
"yeah?"
"We all care about you. Please don't forget that."
and before Cameron could speak again the line went dead. Cameron fell asleep that night more conflicted and confused than she'd ever felt in her life.