Vanquishing the mists of time

I haven't had much time to write, nor have I been very inspired as of late.  But in order to keep the creative wheel in tact, I've done another series of not quite drabbles using the pages prompt.  The book is Moose, by Stephanie Klein.

SORRY ABOUT THE FORMATTING, IT WILL NOT LET ME DELETE SPACES.  :(

 

10. “What are you talking about? I'm not going?”

 House crossed his arms and looked at Wilson, determined. “I'm. Not. Going. Which of those three words did you not understand?”

Wilson leaned his head on the door and sighed softly. “House, just . . . just go.” He looked defeated, his pallor waning.

House carefully studied Wilson for a moment. Then he gripped the handle of his cane a little tighter than necessary, and walked away.

Wilson shut the door quietly. He pressed his forehead against the door, and thought, as much as he missed Amber, he missed House more.

 

20. She drew the words on her legal pad, then displayed it with both hands for all of us in the room.

 When Amber left that note for Wilson, she had no idea how those last words would trouble and torment Wilson. He knew Amber cared little for House, but what she did that night wasn't for House, but for him. And it cost her, it cost her dearly. It cost them all.
 

Wilson doesn't know when he can let go of that envelope. He is afraid that when he does, their time together will be forgotten, vanishing into the mists of time.

 

30. All I could think about in that moment, were Girl Scout cookies.

 “Get me some Thin Mints,” Wilson had simply said. And from that point on House had a hard time focusing on the task at hand, not that he had any interest in teaching of course. He was distracted by the memory of Wilson's soft voice.

 So when Wilson showed up later that night with Thin Mint ice cream, all House could do was smile, as he delved into the carton. They both got a little sticky, in the end, but it was worth it.

 

40. They sent in the money for my first summer away from home.

“I never went to summer camp,” House recalled. “We moved around too much. Most of my summers were spent catching up academically or pissing my father off.”

 

Wilson nodded, hoping House would keep going. It was rare for House to talk about his childhood, so he wasn't surprised when House simply took another drink from his beer without expanding on his experiences. So Wilson took this opportunity to share tales of panty raids and color wars of summers long since passed, in hopes his memories would be enough for both of them.

50. I outed him as a phone sex predator to all the strangers on the line.

 “You did what?” Wilson couldn't believe what he was hearing. House was laughing, and Wilson could see the corners of his eyes were glistening. “You really reported Tritter as a sex offender?” Wilson tried to keep the smile from spreading across his face, failed, and joined House in laughter.