Author's Note: A double-drabble post-ep for "Lockdown," and my first time writing for House.
Allison wakes up the next morning, and every morning there on after, feeling the bitter aftertaste of loneliness weighing on her shoulders. The sun streams in through the window, the birds chirp, life moves on.
She still feels him there with her; if she strains herself enough, she can feel him in her arms, much as she did the last time they saw each other: the night of the lockdown, the night when all the cards were laid on the table for the first time, so to speak. She misses that feeling, she really does.
Maybe she does love him, in her own way that she can't articulate into words that would make sense to anyone but herself.
Maybe, though, this hadn't been the right time to do anything about it.
She shrugs on her coat, walks to her car.
A sparrow flies by overhead, wings spread across the sky.
Maybe, one day, when she works it all out, they can try it all again, with the knowledge of what went wrong before. Or maybe not.
The breeze is warm; summer is coming soon, she can tell.
It's a new day, and she's going to take the world by storm.