An Evening Romance

When the full moon turns white that's when I'll come home
I am going out to see what I can sow
And I don't know where I'll go
And I don't know what I'll see
But I'll try not to bring it back home with me

Eighty miles an hour wasn't fast enough. There wasn't enough adrenaline pumping though his system. The wind whipping his face wasn't hard enough. He needed to exert himself. He needed to exhaust his mind, bones, and muscles. Numbness was what he craved. He was running away from pain. Though this time, not his own, hers. Her pain was unbearable. He had felt her hopelessness in his arms. He had felt her agony against his lips. His mind refused to erase the memory of it.

Never before had he held something so vulnerable and delicate. He wanted to fix everything in which she felt wrong. His entire heart had been fully devoted to her needs in that moment. It had nearly killed him to pull away. His soul screamed in agony at the feel of her leaving his arms. Crystal blue eyes burned with the sight of her helpless expression when he bid her goodnight and left the sanctuary of her home.

The cool October air nipped at his blushed cheeks and chapped his wet lips. It seemed as though the evening was mocking him. The darkness was trying to chase him back indoors. The moon was begging him to return to the keeper of his heart. As always, he ignored what destiny wished for him and continued the long, lonely walk down her walkway and to his motorcycle. A brief glance back at her small house was the last thing he saw before mounting the black and orange machine.

He sped through suburbia at a deadly rate. Trees and houses blended together in a mixture of colors as he fled further and further away from everything he'd ever wanted. She was everything he needed. His body shivered, warning him to dismount the vehicle beneath him. It was time to run.

He drove the motorcycle off the side of the highway, behind the guard rail. His prized leather jacket was first to be stripped from his overheating body, then the rest of his clothing. It had been too long since he'd done this. Simply surrendering to the powers that be was not something he got to do regularly. Both time and a treaty were against him.

House's physical entity switched quickly. His uneven, painful gate transformed into a powerful strut as his skin and bones rearranged with the flashing blue light beings created by his body. In a moment, with a howling cry of exhilaration, his form descended onto four paws and sprinted into the woods.

He ran for miles. His handicap, now, unexistent as his strong muscles carried his heavy weight through the wooded forest. All of the evenings' losses replaying within his furred head fueled his endurance, and had him growling with emotional distress. All animals within a thousand foot radius scampered to withdraw themselves from his wrath. He was king of anywhere he wished to claim himself as; his appearance frightening to anything that lay eyes on him, his growl intimidating to anything that could hear him. Both as human and werewolf, Gregory House was a force to be reckoned with.

It had been so long since he'd felt what he was feeling. Only the most powerful of his kind could experience it. Within his life time, there had been only one other night he'd done it. The day he'd been released from the hospital after his infraction was the last time in which he ran this fast, this hard. It was the only time his restructured, beastly bones had shook so violently. His throat swelled at the sight of a clearing up ahead. The ironic full moon's light illuminated the area like a spotlight, and he was about to take center stage.

It was then that everything stopped for a split second. A thousand visions flashed through his mind; she being the subject of all of them. Her giddy smirk at the baby store. Her hyper walk before her lunch date with Becca. Her nervous eyes when holding her should be daughter for the first time. And then, finally, her hopeless face gazing up at him in the hallway of her home. The memory of her heartbroken demeanor stabbed at his chest like a knife.

The howl he'd been suppressing was ripped from his chest almost instantly. He had swallowed her pain. He had kissed it straight from her lips, and made it his own. Never before had he felt so much agony. All at once the emotions flew out of him and up to the moon above. Creatures of his kind heard his cry and wept with him. The sound so horrifyingly sad, even his enemies joined the ballad. For an animal so powerful and strong to create such a whimpering sound was astounding.

House's cries lasted all through the night. Even after his chorus had long faded away and headed back to their human lives, House remained in the meadow with his broad face turned up to the disappearing moon. It was only until the light of day overpowered the darkness that he pictured his love, and with the taste of her still on his dried tongue, he howled one last time in honor of her.

Song: "Full Moon" by The Black Ghosts