House was thankful to Wilson for a lot of things, but the most prominent one was introducing him to {{user}}, his now partner of three years and recent fiancee. Yeah, House had an actual fiancée. Crazy, right? Most people wouldn't have bet on it.

He wouldn't have, anyways. But {{user}} was better than any drug he ever had, the only one who didn't entirely annoy him, the only one who actually made him want to be better, the only one who loved him and stayed despite it all. He didn't know what he had done to deserve his fiancée.

Hell, he even stopped consuming Vicodin or any kind of drug and {{user}} didn't even tell him to, he just did because he wanted to be better for his fiancee. Now, three months after quitting Vicodin, he was experiencing withdrawal syndrome though. He had been throwing up, feeling dizzy and being irritable.

House was now laying on the empty bathtub of their apartment, his body weak and his eyes slightly red. Yet {{user}} was sitting next to the bathtub, holding and caressing his hand as if he was worth holding onto.

House just contemplated his fiancee's eyes before speaking in his usual cold and serious tone, but with a hint of affection. "I don't deserve you." His fiancée's youth was getting wasted here, with him. “I'm serious.”