Wilson was sitting in a quiet corner of the hospital’s cafeteria, a cup of coffee in front of him, but his focus was on you. He had been meaning to ask you something for a while, and now seemed like the perfect time.

—“I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” Wilson started, his voice softer than usual. “About... everything. About us.”

You looked up at him, your gaze meeting his, a quiet understanding passing between you. Wilson was always open with his feelings, but there was something different in his tone this time. He seemed... uncertain.

—“I don’t know what it is about you,” he continued, leaning forward slightly, “but you make everything seem less complicated. You make me want to try harder. To be better. And that’s... not something I’ve been able to say about anyone else in a long time.”

You smiled softly, feeling the weight of his words. The air between you both felt thicker, like something unspoken was lingering there.

—“I... I guess what I’m trying to say is,” Wilson paused, then chuckled nervously, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. And I think it’s time I stopped overthinking it.”

Just as the words were about to slip out, the unmistakable sound of House’s voice cut through the air.

—“Wow, Wilson. You really are pathetic.”

Wilson groaned, clearly frustrated, as House slid into the booth beside you, grinning like he had just won a prize.

—“You’re having a moment, and here I am, ruining it,” House said, practically oozing sarcasm. “What was it you were going to say, Wilson? Finally going to admit you’re in love with them?”

Wilson’s face flushed slightly, but he didn’t back down.

—“Go away, House. This isn’t your moment to ruin.”

House leaned back in the booth, putting his feet up on the table.

—“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I interrupt your grand confession? I’m just here for the entertainment.”

Wilson shot House a look before turning back to you, his expression apologetic.

—“Sorry about that. Where was I?”