We were only five minutes away from Cherry's house about ten minutes after we left the bar. Cherry apparently lived with a couple of roommates, or that was what she was telling me but I wasn't listening all that much. I had a lot going on in my mind. After all, the thought of everything that happened in the bathroom was a little traumatizing. It wasn't even the fact that some guy had put his hands on me, I just couldn't get the image of Harry punching the guy again and again and again out of my mind.  I knew he had stopped only because of his gagging issue, but if not for that, how far would he have gone?

"Girly, are you even listening to me?" I heard Cherry say.

"No, honestly."

Harry chuckled. I watched Cherry give him a dirty look, and he shrugged. It was clear he didn't care, but Cherry started asking me a bunch of questions about how I was holding up, if the guy had done anything I didn't want, and if I was feeling okay. It was a lot of rapid fire, and I found myself glancing at her.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You can stay with my friends and I if you want," Cherry told me. "You know, to ease your nerves."

It was kind. She was being incredibly friendly, and it was refreshing. I was so used to girls in college being rude, snobby, and unkind. Though, here was this pretty blonde girl that had nothing but nice things to say and offer. It truly was a breath of fresh air, but I knew I wasn't mentally ready to try and spend time with a bunch of girls who were probably going to pester me about what had happened.

"I want to stay in my bed."

She nodded. Cherry then continued to ramble on, and I just drowned it out, trying to think of anything to disregard what was happening in my mind. Yet, again, and again, and again he was in my memories. He was pulling back to punch the guy lying on the floor. And every single time, I was there to bare witness. I had seen fights in movies before, watching plenty of shows with scenes like what I had witnessed at the bar, but never in person.  Never was I there to watch it unfold in front of me like that.

"I'm going to walk her in, are you good in here alone, doll?" Harry asked, and I realized he was parked in a driveway. "Hmm?"

"Fine."

"You like that word tonight," he said, a small smirk on his face. "Lock the doors."

Nodding, I watched as he got out. Cherry told me it was lovely to see me again, and that she couldn't wait to hang out again sometime. I knew she was overly kind, and I waved a goodbye as she got out, Harry shutting her car door as they walked up to her front door. I locked both of the doors, sitting quietly in the car.

Cherry was standing in the doorway, Harry smiling at her as she spoke.  It was like a scene from a movie, and soon enough she was grabbing the collar of his shirt, pulling him inside right along with her. It was followed by the front door being shut, and I rolled my eyes, only being able to imagine they were repeating the adventures of Monday morning. At least, that was what I thought until the door opened only a few moments later, Harry jogging to the car. He tried to open his door, but it was locked. I knew he wasn't someone to be afraid of, he had saved me after all, but I just kept seeing that incredibly angry man in my mind.

"Magdalina, open this door. Please."

He was being polite.  I had barely ever heard this man say please, and I found myself slowly unlocking the vehicle.  He didn't open the door hastily in the way I imagined he would have.  I watched as he slowly tugged it open instead, his eyes focusing on me.  Quickly shifting across the leather seat, I moved so that I was sitting in the passenger's seat instead of being in the middle.  Harry sat in the car, pulling his door shut and then getting situated before he backed out of the driveway.

The ride to my house was incredibly quiet.  We didn't talk.  Or, I wasn't much for talking this evening, but even Harry didn't try to open his mouth to say something.  I listened to the hum of the music playing, my eyes focusing on the sky outside.  I was focused on the stars, and I found myself trying to get the scary image out of my head.  I didn't know why it was replaying so much, but I figured it had something to do with the fact that I had never witnessed a fight.

It was obvious when he turned on my street, my eyes focusing on my house.  I wanted to escape the car quickly—to get away from him.  There was no need to freak out the way that I was, but I needed to get away from him just to clear my mind.  I got my bag ready, looking through it for my keys but not in a way that made me look like I was in a rush.  However, once Harry pulled into my driveway and parked, I immediately went to grab the door handle.  Of course my keys fell out of my hands, though, and I nearly jumped when he was suddenly very carefully pulling the door open.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Fine."

I stepped out of the car, practically sprinting up to my house.  It wasn't long until I was fumbling with my keys, wanting to get inside as quickly as possible, but I was failing.  No urgency could assist my shaky hands, and suddenly I heard footsteps not too far, leading up to where I was.  My keys fell from my hands, and now my body was fully shaking.  I was scared of this man, I realized it now, and there was nothing I could do about it.

"What's wrong?" he asked, my body turning to face him as he crouched down to grab my keys for me.  "Are you upset with what happened? I'm sorry that he put his—"

"You kept punching him," I stated quickly.  "I-I know you would've kept going if you didn't hate blood.  Why did you keep punching him? What if you didn't stop?"

"I would have stopped even if I didn't have a problem with blood," Harry stated.

"But you ... how am I to know?"

He shrugged.  "I guess you won't.  You'll just have to trust me."

"I ..." I sighed.  "You just ... I-I've never seen anyone fight, and we just left him, and I feel absolutely awful.  That isn't like me.  I always take care of people, but you scared me, and—"

He pulled me into him, and I found myself wanting to aggressively pull away while another part of me wanted to begin crying right there in his arms.  They were two completely different ways of coping with how I was feeling, though I chose to lean into him, breathing in the lavender, mint, and soft sweet smell.  He didn't let go of me, his head resting on top of mine while I stood in his grasp.  I was surprised that he was being so sweet, especially since I felt like he was not one for hugs. Though, the longer we stood there, the more I began to calm down.

"I'm sorry if I scared you," he told me. "It was not my intention. I was worried about your safety, the guy put his hands on you."

"You hit him so many—"

"Mags," he murmured, playing with my hair. "I know. I never intended to upset you, I was just irritated and worried."

Why had he been irritated? It wasn't like he was my boyfriend. It wasn't like I was the person he should have been most worried about protecting from other people.  For example, if it had been Cherry in the bathroom, I could probably see his reaction making sense.  They were dating, that would have been his girlfriend some random guy was messing with.  This wasn't the case.  This was just him getting overtly angry for no reason.  Of course, I didn't mind that he had pulled the guy off of me, but to throw the guy on the ground and then start attacking him was a completely different thing that I still wasn't comprehending.

"Let's get you inside, yeah?" he tried.

I pulled away from him, Harry using my keys to unlock the door.  His hands weren't shaky in the slightest, instead, they fit the key to the lock with a precision that I would be unable to accomplish after the events of this evening.  Soon enough, he was lightly pushing the door in, gesturing for me to head inside first.  I did so, watching as he pulled the key from the door and then locked it behind us. 

"Do you want these in a certain spot?" he asked.

"Just that little bowl," I told him, pointing to the clay one on the table by the door.

He nodded, setting the keys in the bowl.  I walked further into the house, flipping on the kitchen light and setting my bag down.  Getting a glass out of the cabinet, I got some water.  I wasn't intoxicated the way that I wished I was, but then again what could I do?  Taking a few sips of water, I found myself glancing over at Harry the man always looking effortlessly cool. He had this aura around him that just exuded confidence in a manner unlike anything I had ever seen. It was very obvious he was comfortable with himself, and I had no idea how a man like himself got to that point.

"Do you want a drink?" I asked.

"What are we talking?" he questioned. "Liquor, or a soda?"

"I don't have very much liquor, but don't you have to drive home?"

"A little drink is not going to make me drunk, doll."

Nodding, I walked out of the kitchen to the dining room. The cabinet wasn't filled with alcohol, but I had the basics. However, Harry was quick to open the cabinet, glancing at all of his choices before grabbing the Jim Bean. It had some contents out of it, but not a lot, Harry asking if I would drink this or if I would want anything else.

"Oh, I'm good. I shouldn't."

"You let me know if you change your mind," he told me.

The two of us headed back to the kitchen after he grabbed a short glass from the drink cabinet. It didn't take long for him to get some ice from the freezer, Harry placing only two cubes in the glass before pouring the whiskey over it. I continued to sip my water, watching as he brought the drink to his lips. And, soon enough, he was staring at me over the rim, my eyes quickly avoiding his as he began to pull the glass away from his lips.

"You've got a staring problem," he told me.

"I do? I catch you staring at me all the time."

He chuckled. "Means you're trying to look at me a lot then, huh?"

I didn't know what he was trying to imply. It was clear that he was saying that I looked at him a lot, but he also wasn't denying that he was caught staring at me a lot. Glancing around my kitchen, I could hear the ice clink in his drink, seeing him take another sip out of the corner of my eye. I was certain he wasn't the angry man I had seen in the bathroom earlier—it was just a fluke. The person in my kitchen was nothing like that man at the bar, but it was still odd. Then again, my ex had never been outwardly aggressive toward other men so that could have been it as well. I mean, I knew that Donna said Billy had gotten into it with some guys before, but of course I wasn't not there to witness what had happened.

"You have a lot going on up there, don't you?" he questioned, tapping my temple lightly.

I glanced over at him. "Maybe."

"Share."

"I'm fine."

"Sure you are," he nodded. "I couldn't have said it better myself. I'm glad to see we were thinking the same thing, Magdalina."

And again, he was so smooth. I stared at him oddly, not even knowing how I was supposed to respond to his words. How could one be so good at coming up with something right off the top of their head? It made zero sense to me. In the past, I had met a few quick-witted people through college, but never like him. Never so on top of it that I was almost always at a loss for words.

"You have a girlfriend."

"I'm very aware. I told you, though, she's not everything that I want."

"What do you want?" I asked.

He smirked at me. "Oh, doll, I'm not giving in that easily."

Riddles. Always leaving my questions with an answer that was open to interpretation. He was cruel, and while I hated him, it made him that much cooler. Being well-spoken had not been a priority for me before, but after speaking with Harry, I was starting to believe that any guy who came into my life and wasn't articulate would even remotely evoke the same feelings I had toward this man. Of course, I was not admitting to myself that I liked Harry in particular, rather, just the fact that I found his air of confidence attractive.

"I might head to bed," I told him after I finished my water.

"Yeah?" he questioned. "I could help you fall asleep pretty quickly. Tire you out."

My face reddened instantly with his words. "I'm not interested in having you in any shape or form if you have a girlfriend, Harry."

He laughed. I could tell that I was amusing to him, and I wondered what was going on in his mind. He didn't normally have a huge filter, but I felt like it was especially gone tonight. After all, he had called his own girlfriend a beautiful little fool, and now he was insinuating that he would want to do stuff with me to help me fall asleep. It just was insane to me. Though, as he was continuing to sip on his drink, I noticed his shirt had red spots on it, my eyes glancing toward his hand where I saw his knuckles had definitely cracked.

"Harry, shut your eyes."

"Why?" he asked.

"Just shut them."

"Are you going to do something hot? I want my eyes open for—"

"You're bleeding again."

"I'm wha—"

The moment he glanced down, I knew it was a mistake. He started gagging the second he had processed his hand. I covered his eyes, waiting until I felt like it was enough time for him to have shut them. Soon enough, I was pulling him to my bathroom, quickly turning on the water and placing his hand under it. It was the second time I was cleaning up blood from his right hand, my cheeks flushed as I squirted soap into the palm of my hand. Making sure that my hands were soapy, I then began to wash his hand, Harry chuckling the way he had last time.

"What?"

"It just always feels funny," he told me. "Look, uh, let me do it with you. Does it look like I'm bleeding a lot or will I be fine if I open my eyes?"

I stared at his hand under the water for a moment, pulling it out to see it really wasn't bleeding much. Assuring him he would be fine, he opened his eyes, my face burning when he shifted so that he was standing behind me, the sink in front of me now. I watched in the mirror as he was focused on getting soap, whereas my eyes were staring at the way he leaned over me, how much taller he was than me, and, as per usual, how attractive he was. There was just something about him that was unlike any other man I had ever seen, my eyes quickly shifting down to the sink when both of his hands encased mine as he began to wash it easily.

"Ew, it does feel weird. Stop," I laughed.

"No, I've had to deal with this twice."

"The first time was not on purpose, but I should have told you the cabinet really was loose. I mean, I told you that, but I didn't express it enough. Tonight, that was all you, big boy."

"Big boy?" he chuckled.

"Well," I shrugged. "You're big, and a boy."

"Yeah, I went to school. I can state the obvious as well, doll," he murmured, still washing my hand even though it was certainly unnecessary now.

He continued to wash it, but then pulled my left one into the sink instead. I watched as he squirted more soap into his right palm, making sure to get my hand soapy in between the two of his. Honestly, I did think this felt more intimate than it should have. The way he was tucked behind me, how close we were, the way his hands felt around mind, and how he would occasionally slide his fingers into between mine as if he were about to hold my hand. It was all messing with my mind, but I also blamed that on what a weird night I was having.

"Are you finished?" I asked.

"I was going to make a joke, but I won't be that disrespectful," he chuckled, shutting the sink off carefully. "Stay."

"What am I, a dog?"

"You could be my good girl," he shrugged.

My face burned red, and I watched as he smirked at me in the mirror, turning around to grab a hand towel from the rack. It was followed by him drying his hands off before he took mine and dried them off carefully as well. He was being delicate with me, and while I knew that he was making a bunch of different innuendos this evening, I was thankful for them. It allowed me to not feel as scared of him, which put my nerves at ease.

"Walk me out," he stated.

"Of course," I nodded.

We left my bathroom, Harry leading the way through my house as if he was the one that lived here. It was kind of funny to me, but I found myself watching as he made a pit stop in the kitchen, taking two big gulps of his whiskey to finish it before placing his glass and mine in the sink. As usual, I was always so confused by how domesticated he appeared. Then again, it probably had everything to do with the way I was used to my ex acting when I had spent time with him in our home. Yet, here was Harry, always checking the exact opposite box.

"You have a lovely rest of your evening," Harry told me as we approached the front door. "I truly apologize for scaring you. It was never my intention."

"I know."

He nodded, pulling the door open. Harry smiled at me before waving a goodbye, and I felt like how I had said goodbye was inadequate. He had done a lot for me this evening. A lot more than I could have asked for without even asking for it. Without a second thought, I was asking him to wait, his car door already opened. I left my front door wide open, and I was certain a bunch of bugs were going to head inside, but I didn't care. I was just focused on rushing over to Harry. And, without a second thought, I leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. Or, it landed more like his jaw because I was shorter than I had anticipated in comparison to him.

"I thought I had a girlfriend," he stated, leaning against his car as he looked at me.

"I know, but I ... thank you."

His eyebrows pulled in. "For what?"

For what? As if he didn't know. It wasn't like Harry had pulled that drunk guy off of me when he wasn't listening or anything. Harry had made sure I got home safely, he had hugged me when I was freaking out, and he had talked to me to make sure that my nerves weren't as bad before I had to go to bed. He had been nothing but kind to me, and it was incredibly overwhelming to feel like for once someone was fully there to help. Even if he was just a friend, I was thankful for him.

"Oh, you know."

"Doll," he stated, his tone very telling. "Don't play this game with me. You know what I said."

"Right," I nodded. "Um, thank you for saving me, I suppose. And talking to me so I wasn't a bundle of nerves going to bed."

"Yeah, of course. Now I beg you to go inside before you let every Florida creature into your house."

Before I could even truly think about what I was saying to him, I said something that I fully wasn't expecting to say myself.

"You? Begging? You feeling okay?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Inside, now."

"Fine, fine," I laughed, and I watched as he shifted his left hand into his front pocket. "I, um, hope you get home safely."

"Mhm. Sleep well, Magdalina."

"Goodnight," I told him as I started walking up to my house.

"Goodnight."

He didn't even attempt to get into his car until he saw that I was at my front door, Harry sending a wave in my direction. I sent one back before shutting the front door, locking it behind me. For a moment, my back stayed glued to the front door. I was left in a state of uncertainty and confusion. There was not a single piece of me that understood what had unfolded in the short time he had come into my home this evening, but I wasn't disappointed in the slightest.