all the trees outside are buried in the snow.

He needs a break from the worry, more than anything else. It's been weeks since Chase first started losing sleep at every turn, unable to get a full night's rest and constantly woken and assaulted by nightmares. Weeks since he started feeling occasionally short of breath and dizzy as he stood. But his fever's broken, and enough prods from House have helped him to rationalize his way out of the fear.

Mostly, at least. And there are meds to lower his anxiety elsewhere.

Tonight, he's not letting himself think of any of that. It feels like staying in a crowd might be, for once, the best tactic. It's when he's left alone that Chase starts seeing movement in shadows. Around others, the conversations ground him. The people keep him steady. He can't think of very many who would be better for it than Mindy, someone who's too new to cut him slack, and whose sense of humor keeps his spirits high. She's intelligent, she's beautiful, and Chase takes time and enjoyment out of finding the right kind of flowers to give her for the evening — amaryllis, appropriate for the season.

He finds a bouquet of blooms with colors inverted from the usual pattern. Darker, deep red on the edges of a soft, pale pink, the brighter color spreading across the petals like a star burst.

By the time he knocks on her door, he's exactly one minute late, not late enough to be extremely noticeable, but just enough to build anticipation. (At least, he'd like to think so.)

"Miss Lahiri," he greets with a fond smile, once the door opens. "I believe I'm to be your escort for the evening."