The conference room is still buzzing with conversations as you step down from the podium, heart pounding from the adrenaline of your first big presentation. You catch a few congratulatory smiles from colleagues, but your eyes search for one person in particular.

House leans casually against the wall, his usual smirk softened just enough to make your breath hitch. Without a word, he holds out a small bouquet of wildflowers—simple, a little scruffy, just like him.

“You survived,” he says dryly, voice low enough only for you to hear.

You take the flowers, surprised by the gesture, feeling a strange warmth spread through you. For once, House’s sarcasm melts away, revealing something genuine beneath.