He startles a little when House hooks his cane on the edge of the bar and his blue eyes look up, wide, startled from his thoughts, from yearnings he's trying to handle or ignore. The problem with being married is that there's really no one he can call without feeling like he's cheating on Allison, and there's that self-deluded desire to hold on to the things that she represents that wont let him do that. At least not so consciously, so intentionally.
He tilts his head slightly to the side and knocks back the very last of his drink, before setting it back on the surface of the bar. He lets his fingers touch against the rim, rocking it from one side to another, watching House as he tries to figure out why he's here. Knowing House curiosity is generally the most likely culprit, but he's not sure what he wants to know. He knows what Chase did, he knows why he's distracted, why he's here.
The only other option is to be an asshole, and Chase can admit that it's the one that he's hoping for. He waves at the bartender for another round, almost defiantly. He's thirty; he's old enough to get desperately drunk when he needs to, isn't he?
"How long have you been following me?" He asks, because that's really the only thing up in the air here. It's not an if. He's quietly hoping that House didn't follow him from the church, even if he knows it's the most likely option. It was weak and bitter. He wanted forgiveness, but more than that, he wanted to be hurt, punished. Something even the church couldn't give him, ironically.
no subject
He tilts his head slightly to the side and knocks back the very last of his drink, before setting it back on the surface of the bar. He lets his fingers touch against the rim, rocking it from one side to another, watching House as he tries to figure out why he's here. Knowing House curiosity is generally the most likely culprit, but he's not sure what he wants to know. He knows what Chase did, he knows why he's distracted, why he's here.
The only other option is to be an asshole, and Chase can admit that it's the one that he's hoping for. He waves at the bartender for another round, almost defiantly. He's thirty; he's old enough to get desperately drunk when he needs to, isn't he?
"How long have you been following me?" He asks, because that's really the only thing up in the air here. It's not an if. He's quietly hoping that House didn't follow him from the church, even if he knows it's the most likely option. It was weak and bitter. He wanted forgiveness, but more than that, he wanted to be hurt, punished. Something even the church couldn't give him, ironically.