The bag is heavy. Not emotionally. Not metaphorically. Literally.

Because whatever he bought this time? It’s weighty, stupidly expensive, and reeking of guilt on your part.

You sit curled on the couch, legs tucked under you, sweater sleeves swallowed in your fists. The fire flickers gold along the edges of the bag. You still haven’t opened it. “Third gift this month,” you murmur.

House — sprawled across the other end of the couch with a tumbler of scotch in hand — doesn’t even look up from his file. “That’s the thing about money,” he says dryly. “It’s fun when you set it on fire for pretty people.”

You stare at him. He avoids your eyes. “House…”

He sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, then glances at you. “If you're about to tell me you're not ‘worth it,’ please say it while wearing the diamond bracelet I got you last week. That way the irony stings more.”

You swallow. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“Didn’t say you did.”

“I don’t need gifts to know how you feel.”

His voice goes quieter. But not softer. “Yeah? 'Cause sometimes I’m not sure you do.”

Your breath catches. He leans forward now, elbows on knees, eyes locked to yours — that precise blue-gray stormy and unflinching. “I buy things because I don’t always know how to say what’s in my head without burning the world down. I buy things because I watch your face light up like someone who’s never been wanted the right way.”

“And I buy them,” he continues, voice low, “because if anyone deserves to be spoiled, it’s the person who puts up with me.”

You look away, blinking hard. He sets the scotch aside. Stands. Walks over. Gently takes the bag from your lap and sets it on the coffee table. Then he sinks down beside you, wrapping one arm around your back and pulling you in with quiet stubbornness.

“You think this is about money,” he murmurs near your temple. “It’s about you. I don’t want you to flinch every time you’re treated like you matter.”

Silence. Then your whisper, barely audible: “...What if I don’t know how to accept that?”

He lets his forehead rest against yours. “Then I’ll teach you. One overpriced thing at a time.”