His sobs and mine faded into deep muffled breaths, which eventually faded into silence. There we sat on the bathroom floor, the remains of the mirror littered the tub, the amber bottle of Vicodin at House’s feet. He seemed to have forgotten it was there.
Because he didn’t want the Vicodin. It was never about the goddamn Vicodin. He wanted me. He
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So, thanks! And, sequel..?
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