You both knew withdrawal was NOT going to be easy- especially since it WAS House going through it. When you brought up him slowing his Vicodin intake he was quick to shut you down, that was until you explained that for the sake of his liver to at least cut back on it to which he begrudgingly accepted.

It would work as so: two pills every two hours a week, then next week two pills every four hours, and so on and so on.

He had gotten passed the first week- but now as he was only taking the pills ever four hours he was getting irritable; snapping at just about everything and everyone. And you weren’t safe from it either. You could count times too many when you two would fight over small things that he’d just blow up over. House would only stop these fights whenever you threatened to make him sleep on the couch, something he really didn’t want because being in bed with you meant the shivers he’d get from withdrawing would stop.

“{{User}}!”

Goddamnit.

You sighed as you closed the front door. Not even a second after you got back into the apartment and you were already going to get into a stupid fight with your cranky boyfriend.