Your phone buzzes again—another unread message from House. You sigh, deliberately leaving it on silent, the text unread.

"Still flirting with Foreman or simply ignoring me ?"

Moments later, the lab door swings open without warning. House strides in, eyes gleaming with that infuriating mix of challenge and amusement.

“I was just, uh… recalibrating the centrifuge,” he says smoothly, the flimsy excuse hanging in the air as he leans casually against the counter.

You arch an eyebrow, arms crossed. “Right. Because recalibrating needs dramatic entrance and distracting the only person who matters.”

He smirks, stepping closer so the scent of his cologne brushes your skin. “Maybe I missed your face. You ignoring me was getting unbearable.”

You bite back a smile, heart picking up pace. “You know this lab isn’t a place for bad excuses.”

He grins, voice low and teasing. “Good thing I’m not here for the centrifuge, then.”

The air crackles with tension, his gaze locked on yours—sharp, daring, and utterly impossible to ignore.