H/C Drabble - "Pretend"
H/C Drabble - "Pretend"
A continuation of "Control"
Rating...hmm-PG-13
A work in progress - I emphasize this! ;)
(And I note this because it's spur of the moment and it hasn't been beta'd and that always makes me paranoid b/c I'm queen of grammatical and spelling errors! lol!)
Pretend
You don't like to cuddle. You've made no bones about it. But you have gotten used to Cameron and her warm soft body next to yours. And you like it. You don't tell her this, you need to keep your secrets.
She has funny bed-time routines. Surprisingly, she stays up later than you, and gets up first in the morning. In the evening she's always futzing around, reading something on her laptop, lounging on the couch in nothing but your T-shirt trying to catch up on reading some medical journals, or watching some girly show she likes to watch.
She's diligent about making lunch for the next day and cleaning up the kitchen at night. You hear her humming happily to herself as she wipes down counters and wraps a sandwich in foil. She's like a bird flitting around the apartment, picking things up and putting them away, just puttering around getting rid of extra energy.
She makes you tired just watching her, so you crawl into bed and enjoy the cool feeling of the sheets. You know that in about an hour's time you'll hear the bathroom sink running and know she's brushing her teeth, washing her face, and joining you in bed smelling all fresh.
And then she does that thing that you love. She curls up behind you, her little body curled right up against your back. She inhales your hair, places a kiss on your back, nuzzles her nose into the crook of your neck. She molds her body into your shape, her breasts pressed up against you, her hand resting warmly on your thigh, her tiny feet curling into the back of yours, toes warming against your heels. You may be slightly asleep when she crawls into bed, but once you feel her settle into her nightly position, it is only then that you can fall into a deep sleep.
You hate when she decides to sleep at her apartment. You hate when the two of you argue and she decides to go home. You can't tell her that you need her in your bed, curled up behind you, holding you gently. The words are always on the edge of your tongue, but the bile in your stomach kills them before you can tell her and she looks at you disappointed that your eyes tell her something that you can't.
You love making love to her. You can tell her more during sex then you can with your words. You hate yourself for that, you Gregory House, the man with all the greatest comeback lines and snipes. You love how close you feel to her, the beating of her heart, her mouth, her skin. You love to taste her, inhale her...
In afterglow, you always lie face to face wanting to inhale every part of her, every breath of hers. You need her more than she realizes. You still can't cuddle. But you can't sleep without her, without her curling up against you, holding you.
You need to ask her to move in. You need her to be with you all the time, but yet you are still so afraid.
A continuation of "Control"
Rating...hmm-PG-13
A work in progress - I emphasize this! ;)
(And I note this because it's spur of the moment and it hasn't been beta'd and that always makes me paranoid b/c I'm queen of grammatical and spelling errors! lol!)
Pretend
You don't like to cuddle. You've made no bones about it. But you have gotten used to Cameron and her warm soft body next to yours. And you like it. You don't tell her this, you need to keep your secrets.
She has funny bed-time routines. Surprisingly, she stays up later than you, and gets up first in the morning. In the evening she's always futzing around, reading something on her laptop, lounging on the couch in nothing but your T-shirt trying to catch up on reading some medical journals, or watching some girly show she likes to watch.
She's diligent about making lunch for the next day and cleaning up the kitchen at night. You hear her humming happily to herself as she wipes down counters and wraps a sandwich in foil. She's like a bird flitting around the apartment, picking things up and putting them away, just puttering around getting rid of extra energy.
She makes you tired just watching her, so you crawl into bed and enjoy the cool feeling of the sheets. You know that in about an hour's time you'll hear the bathroom sink running and know she's brushing her teeth, washing her face, and joining you in bed smelling all fresh.
And then she does that thing that you love. She curls up behind you, her little body curled right up against your back. She inhales your hair, places a kiss on your back, nuzzles her nose into the crook of your neck. She molds her body into your shape, her breasts pressed up against you, her hand resting warmly on your thigh, her tiny feet curling into the back of yours, toes warming against your heels. You may be slightly asleep when she crawls into bed, but once you feel her settle into her nightly position, it is only then that you can fall into a deep sleep.
You hate when she decides to sleep at her apartment. You hate when the two of you argue and she decides to go home. You can't tell her that you need her in your bed, curled up behind you, holding you gently. The words are always on the edge of your tongue, but the bile in your stomach kills them before you can tell her and she looks at you disappointed that your eyes tell her something that you can't.
You love making love to her. You can tell her more during sex then you can with your words. You hate yourself for that, you Gregory House, the man with all the greatest comeback lines and snipes. You love how close you feel to her, the beating of her heart, her mouth, her skin. You love to taste her, inhale her...
In afterglow, you always lie face to face wanting to inhale every part of her, every breath of hers. You need her more than she realizes. You still can't cuddle. But you can't sleep without her, without her curling up against you, holding you.
You need to ask her to move in. You need her to be with you all the time, but yet you are still so afraid.