Love dazed
Mood: mile high
Weather: overcast, 55°F
Listening to: Atom Bomb - Fluke
Drinking: laced coffee (psh!)
Eating: Chase's rice pudding
Gaaaaaawd!
I'm over the moon!
And I was so pissed yesterday afternoon.... we had a severe brawl and both acted like morons.
I was jealous of that San Francisco Lady and acted monosyllabic and foolish. I wanted to apologize when we were at home, but we ended up yelling at each other and I slammed the door in Jim's face and just disappeared for about an hour walking down the streets.
I wonder how James bears me...I'm a handful, I know.
While I was away he had a drink or two and even a cigarette. (I hate it when he smokes.) He read my blog and went mad on that anonymous commenter who calls himself "Bertie". He became jealous of him and so the brawl started over.
We are so dumb sometimes....
We started again and again and it took long 'til we both could laugh about it. I made it perfectly clear how I feel for him by softly pushing him into the cushions, starting to kiss him and open his shirt.
And guess what?
The doorbell rang.
We first thought of ignoring it but then there was this knocking at the door and we heard Foreman say "Helloooooo?"
So we both checked our apparel and opened the door just to face a very beaten looking Foreman.
"Hello, Dr. House, Dr. Wilson..." he began. "May I come in? I just need someone to talk to..."
He looked horrible and we waved him into the appartment. I think he shall decide for himself if he tells what was on his mind. But be sure he almost cried his eyes out. I provided Scotch, Guinness and Kilkenny and soon he was drunk and had to stay on our sofa.
James and I went to bed and cuddled, snuggled and snogged until we fell asleep...
Isn't making up always...nice?
When I awoke this morning and opened my eyes I straightly looked into Jim's eyes, who bent over me and caressed my cheek, hair and chest.
I can't think of any better way to wake up...
He started to kiss me and I couldn't help sighing his name. My heartbeat fastened and soon we forgot Foreman in the sitting room.
Gawd...I still smile broadly when I think of the morning.
And I was utterly surprised when I found out he wrote a poem about...well...it...
It brought all those feelings back to my mind, my legs went jelly, my thoughts went astray, my heart began to race and I just had to be with him right now.
So I left my office and made my way to his - He wasn't there.
I peeped into the cafeteria - still no James.
My last try was the roof. There he was, smoking (I hate this!) and humming My aphrodisiac is you by Katie Melua.
"Here you are! What are you doing up here?", I asked and looked at him.
"Just needed that one...", he answered and waved with the cigarette. (Cameron, if he asks for one don't hand them to him!)
I ignored his smoking and just murmured what I wanted to tell him. "I read your poem..."
James swallowed and slightly blushed. "And... do you like it?"
What should I say? "Yes" would be to flabby. There were no words that fit what I wanted to express so I just grabbed his collar. "I'll show you how I liked it!" I whispered and kissed him.
It was cold up there but we didn't bother. I wiped off his labcoat and unbuttoned his shirt while he unbuttoned mine and got rid of my sports coat. Fumbling at his belt the thought someone else could come up there never came to my mind and we got totally lost.
After we rearranged our clothes we made our way back down the stairs and went to that Italian restaurant around the corner. I could hardly resist taking his hand as we crossed the street and felt foolish, mile high and deeply in love. (I still do...I always do...)
I ordered a medium decanter of red wine for us both and Tagliatelle with porcini, James was still into lasagne. While having lunch he complained of all those idiots who applied for Allenby's position.
"Shall I join you for the last two interviews tomorrow?" I asked him playing with a mushroom.
He looked up. "Yes please...Gawd, I hope we soon will find someone..."
We mocked that Danny-DeVito-Guy and Miss Silicon and had a good time.
Afterwards we had half an hour left until another applicant arrived and sat down on the sofa in Jim's office.
I can't tell you how hard it is to resist him when he looks at me the way he does, smelling of Fahrenheit and James Evan Wilson, getting darkeyed again...
It's impossible. So I stood up, peeped at the floor, locked the door and turned to him again.
"What is this supposed to mean?" he asked and looked at me with a warm smile.
I didn't answer anything but hugged him closely and kissed him.
The Hmmmmmmmmmm escaping his mouth fueled my passion and I unbottened his shirt once again.
"Nice idea for a dessert...", James mumbled and once again we got lost in each other. I just can't get enough of him. And...I'm sorry to bother you, but I just had to write it down.
I still feel overwhelmed and no one is able to wipe that broad smile off my face. (But Cuddy didn't ask me again if I was stoned...) In my head songs like Edward Scissorhands are playing and I carry on annoying and scaring patients (yes, it's clinic duty again...) because it is FUN!
Can't wait to get home.
Maybe I'll cook something nice and buy a good bottle of barrique, lend a DVD and enjoy the coziness.
Weather: overcast, 55°F
Listening to: Atom Bomb - Fluke
Drinking: laced coffee (psh!)
Eating: Chase's rice pudding
Gaaaaaawd!
I'm over the moon!
And I was so pissed yesterday afternoon.... we had a severe brawl and both acted like morons.
I was jealous of that San Francisco Lady and acted monosyllabic and foolish. I wanted to apologize when we were at home, but we ended up yelling at each other and I slammed the door in Jim's face and just disappeared for about an hour walking down the streets.
I wonder how James bears me...I'm a handful, I know.
While I was away he had a drink or two and even a cigarette. (I hate it when he smokes.) He read my blog and went mad on that anonymous commenter who calls himself "Bertie". He became jealous of him and so the brawl started over.
We are so dumb sometimes....
We started again and again and it took long 'til we both could laugh about it. I made it perfectly clear how I feel for him by softly pushing him into the cushions, starting to kiss him and open his shirt.
And guess what?
The doorbell rang.
We first thought of ignoring it but then there was this knocking at the door and we heard Foreman say "Helloooooo?"
So we both checked our apparel and opened the door just to face a very beaten looking Foreman.
"Hello, Dr. House, Dr. Wilson..." he began. "May I come in? I just need someone to talk to..."
He looked horrible and we waved him into the appartment. I think he shall decide for himself if he tells what was on his mind. But be sure he almost cried his eyes out. I provided Scotch, Guinness and Kilkenny and soon he was drunk and had to stay on our sofa.
James and I went to bed and cuddled, snuggled and snogged until we fell asleep...
Isn't making up always...nice?
When I awoke this morning and opened my eyes I straightly looked into Jim's eyes, who bent over me and caressed my cheek, hair and chest.
I can't think of any better way to wake up...
He started to kiss me and I couldn't help sighing his name. My heartbeat fastened and soon we forgot Foreman in the sitting room.
Gawd...I still smile broadly when I think of the morning.
And I was utterly surprised when I found out he wrote a poem about...well...it...
It brought all those feelings back to my mind, my legs went jelly, my thoughts went astray, my heart began to race and I just had to be with him right now.
So I left my office and made my way to his - He wasn't there.
I peeped into the cafeteria - still no James.
My last try was the roof. There he was, smoking (I hate this!) and humming My aphrodisiac is you by Katie Melua.
"Here you are! What are you doing up here?", I asked and looked at him.
"Just needed that one...", he answered and waved with the cigarette. (Cameron, if he asks for one don't hand them to him!)
I ignored his smoking and just murmured what I wanted to tell him. "I read your poem..."
James swallowed and slightly blushed. "And... do you like it?"
What should I say? "Yes" would be to flabby. There were no words that fit what I wanted to express so I just grabbed his collar. "I'll show you how I liked it!" I whispered and kissed him.
It was cold up there but we didn't bother. I wiped off his labcoat and unbuttoned his shirt while he unbuttoned mine and got rid of my sports coat. Fumbling at his belt the thought someone else could come up there never came to my mind and we got totally lost.
After we rearranged our clothes we made our way back down the stairs and went to that Italian restaurant around the corner. I could hardly resist taking his hand as we crossed the street and felt foolish, mile high and deeply in love. (I still do...I always do...)
I ordered a medium decanter of red wine for us both and Tagliatelle with porcini, James was still into lasagne. While having lunch he complained of all those idiots who applied for Allenby's position.
"Shall I join you for the last two interviews tomorrow?" I asked him playing with a mushroom.
He looked up. "Yes please...Gawd, I hope we soon will find someone..."
We mocked that Danny-DeVito-Guy and Miss Silicon and had a good time.
Afterwards we had half an hour left until another applicant arrived and sat down on the sofa in Jim's office.
I can't tell you how hard it is to resist him when he looks at me the way he does, smelling of Fahrenheit and James Evan Wilson, getting darkeyed again...
It's impossible. So I stood up, peeped at the floor, locked the door and turned to him again.
"What is this supposed to mean?" he asked and looked at me with a warm smile.
I didn't answer anything but hugged him closely and kissed him.
The Hmmmmmmmmmm escaping his mouth fueled my passion and I unbottened his shirt once again.
"Nice idea for a dessert...", James mumbled and once again we got lost in each other. I just can't get enough of him. And...I'm sorry to bother you, but I just had to write it down.
I still feel overwhelmed and no one is able to wipe that broad smile off my face. (But Cuddy didn't ask me again if I was stoned...) In my head songs like Edward Scissorhands are playing and I carry on annoying and scaring patients (yes, it's clinic duty again...) because it is FUN!
Can't wait to get home.
Maybe I'll cook something nice and buy a good bottle of barrique, lend a DVD and enjoy the coziness.
10 Comments:
I din't handle a cigarette to him!
by the way I try to stop again.
I hope I'll make it! ;-)
Yes you did!
Well... she did not - I bought a pack.
You BOUGHT a pack? Geez!
You BOUGHT a bike? Geez!
If you do some scary and dangerous stuff...so do I.
It's only cigarettes
If you were British, I had a little pun for you:
Being a fag doesn't mean you now have to smoke...
Hun, who's the oncologist in our little family?
And how are cigarettes called?
Let me see...
It was cancer sticks.
Hmmm...or was it lung darts?
Yes you are right ... I've already thrown them away!
I'm always right...
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