Deciding on what to wear to bed when a very handsome man was in my kitchen was probably one of the hardest things I had to do in a while. Of course, I knew that if I was sober I wouldn't even be thinking about him in such a manner, yet I found myself feeling like I needed to look good. Looking through my closet, I finally settled on a pale pink baby doll nighty. He was going to be irritated, I knew that much the moment I slipped it on. However, I found myself pulling on a pair of matching shorts, knowing that the bottom half of it was see through.

Heading out to the kitchen, I stumbled slightly, my eyes wide. It was funny, even, and I knew that I hadn't been this wasted in a while. Once I made it to the kitchen, I noticed that Harry's back was to me, the ingredients for cookies resting on the countertop beside him. I walked over to the cupboard with glasses, pulling a glass out of the cabinet. Though, the moment I shut the door I could feel his eyes burning into my skin, my eyes meeting his.

"I told you to put pajamas on, not act like you have an ad in Playboy."

"Do you not like it?" I asked, frowning as I looked down at my outfit. "I think it's cute."

"So cute," he assured, washing his hands quickly before grabbing his leather jacket and bundling me up in it. "Let's get you something less revealing. I feel like I am being disrespectful."

"To Cherry?" I asked.

"No. I feel like I'm looking at you disrespectfully, and I don't wish to do that. Especially not when you're wasted. Come on, doll, let's get you dressed."

He put his hands on my shoulders, steering me down the hall to my bedroom. I giggled when he told me to sit on my bed, plopping down on the mattress with his jacket wrapped around me. It smelled like him, lavender, mint, and a cozy sweet smell taking over my senses. I could fall asleep right here and now with just the thought, but I wanted to stay up a little longer considering he was still in my house.  It wasn't long until he was grabbing a big T-shirt, quickly grabbing it from my closet.  He walked back into the bedroom, his eyes meeting mine as he stood in front of me.

"I think this would be better," he nodded.  "You change, I'll keep making the cookies."

Before I could think, I was grabbing one of his hands in mine.  I still wasn't used to his height in comparison to mine.  Or, anything about him really felt a whole lot bigger than me.  The jacket had slipped off my body with my movements, but Harry was quick to use his free hand to cover me back up again.  It made me giggle, a small smile on his face as he stood in front of me.

"You're not gonna help?" I complained with a frown.

"You're going to kill me," he chuckled.  "I trust that you can change on your own.  If something absolutely horrible happens, just yell.  You got it."

"Harry," I murmured when he pulled away from me.

"Doll," he stated, his hands cupping my cheeks now.  "If you remember any of this when you're sober, you're going to have an absolute fit with recalling how needy you were for me.  Be good, okay?"

I let out a huff.  "Okay."

"Good girl," he smirked, letting go of my face quickly.  "I'll be in the kitchen."

Nodding again, I watched as he left me alone in my bedroom.  He had shut the door behind him, and I found myself changing into the outfit he had requested for me to wear.  I usually slept in a big T-shirt anyway, so I wasn't sure what had possessed me to even try and put something so  sensual on.  Deciding not to think about it, I found myself changing as quickly as I could, leaving his jacket in my room as I headed into the bathroom.  I felt like I needed to brush my teeth after everything that had taken place this evening, so I found myself doing that as well, taking a while longer than the regular two minutes I would spend, but eventually I finished up.

Finally, I was heading back out to the kitchen.  To my surprise, Harry had already gotten me a glass of water, but I could tell that there was a glass of Jim Bean sitting next to my glass.  Noting that his back was turned to me, I quickly snatched it up, about to take a sip when Harry glanced over his shoulder.

"Magdalina!" he scoffed, grabbing the glass from my hands even though his fingers were greasy from the cookies.  "You are so ... oh my God, water. I got you water.  This is my drink."

"Sorry," I murmured.

"I know you're not, but come on.  Take your water, sit at the counter."

Huffing, I grabbed my glass, taking it over to the counter to sit.  He was on the last step of making cookies which was to make them into little balls and place them on the cookie sheets.  Or, I normally made them into balls but he basically just scooped them out of the bowl and placed them on the tray without anymore effort.  I sipped my water as I watched him work, Harry placing two trays of cookies in the oven before grabbing the timer that sat on the stove.  He then set it for what looked like it was about ten minutes. 

"What do you do that's special?" I asked.

"Now why would I tell you my mum's recipe?" he chuckled as he washed his hands.

"Because you and I are friends," I stated.

"You tried to steal my drink.  That wasn't very friendly."

"A mistake," I giggled.  "Please.  Oh, Harry, just this once."

He chuckled, and I watched as he grabbed his glass, wiping it off since it still looked greasy from when he last touched it.  I watched as he took a sip from it, the tall man walking over so that he could sit beside me at the counter.  For a moment I was silent, which, in my current state was incredibly surprising.  However, it wasn't long until that streak broken.

"So, the recipe?"

"I've only known you a month.  It's going to take more time than that for me to reveal the secret."

"It's not spit is it?" I questioned.

"No," he laughed.  "You're on another level tonight.  Remind me to never let you have a lot to drink without super vision."

"You don't like me?"

"That's not what I meant, doll," he stated.  "I just know that your sober self and your drunk self would not enjoy one another's company."

Sighing, I nodded, telling him he was right.  I mean, I was overly talkative, I didn't think about what I said, and I turned into a very horny person when I was drunk, to say the least.  Of course, when I was tipsy was probably the best.  It was the part of me that was just confident enough to try and pull guys while I didn't cross the line of borderline annoying.  However, I knew it was far too late.  I had passed that line hours ago, and the only way to adjust it was to go to bed.

The timer went off for the cookies, Harry getting out of his chair.  He did not leave his bourbon behind the way I had expected him to do so, but I knew it was because he was concerned that I was going to drink it.  I watched as he grabbed oven mitts, opening the oven and pulling out what looked like the most perfect cookies I had ever seen.  Even from here, they smelled amazing.  And, it wasn't long until he was placing two on a plate, setting it on the counter in front of me.

"Let them cool off," he told me.

"Milk, please."

"No.  You can have some cookies with milk in the morning.  If you drink milk now, it will probably mix poorly with all the alcohol and whatever else is in your stomach."

I glared at him.  "If you're talking about come, I didn't get the chance to finish him off because someone so rudely interrupted me."

Harry was facing away from me, but I saw his shoulders tense up.  It was like he did not like the thought, and I smiled to myself.  A part of me enjoyed challenging him.  It was fun, and I knew he had an ego that always made it better.  After all, he was one of the first men that I had ever truly thought was overtly mysterious.  Most guys were basic to read, but even with everything I knew about him, I also knew nothing.

"You didn't even know him," he stated plainly, Harry placing more dough onto the now empty trays.  "Why would you even want to do that with a stranger?"

"So you've never done anything with a stranger in your whole life, then?" I asked.

"I didn't say that."

"Then what's the problem?" I tried again.  "If you can do stuff with a stranger, why can't I?"

"Well, for starters, there's a serial killer on the loose and they're looking for someone who looks just like you."

"Awe, you're worried about my safety."

"Don't use that tone," he stated, placing the cookie sheets in the oven and setting the timer again.  "You're patronizing me, and I don't think you want to play that game."

"You know I love playing games with you."

He didn't immediately walk toward me.  Instead, he slowly approached the sink, washing his hands for longer than he had previously.  It was followed by him grabbing his glass of bourbon, sipping the rest of the drink.  I watched as he placed the glass in the sink, my face burning when he made his way over, standing behind me now.  Though, instead of him grabbing onto my throat the way he had at the bar, I felt one of his hands rest on my upper thigh while the other rested against my waist.

"I keep telling you not to play games with me, doll," he whispered, his hand that was on my thigh shifting toward my knee slightly before it shifted back toward my body.  "I told you, but I know you never listen."

His fingers were gripping the inside on my thigh, which wasn't horrible.  Though, I quickly squeezed my thighs shut on his hand when his index began to lightly trace the skin there.  He knew exactly what he was doing—he always did—and I hated him for it.  It was like he wanted to leave me unsatisfied twice this evening, and I was pissed about it.

"Don't," I grumbled.

"Don't what? You know I wouldn't.  I have a girlfriend, after all."

His lips were incredibly close to my ear, my body overwhelmed in multiple aspects.  His scent, his touch, his voice, the way his hand looked on my thigh.  The only sense that he wasn't fulfilling was taste, but I certainly was not going to be the one that tried to initiate anything like that.  His hand gripped my thigh a little harder, my cheeks red when I heard the timer go off.  Harry fully pulled away from me, my body, yet again, feeling as though I had just had my soul sucked out of me.

"I don't like you," I told him.

"Mhm.  Stop squeezing your thighs together then, doll."

I wanted to throw something at him, but I chose not to.  Not only would he get angry, but I didn't want to make a mess in my own home.  Deciding enough time had passed for the cookies to cool down, I quickly started to eat one.  Of course, I was expecting them to be decent, but I certainly was not expecting them to be the best cookies I had ever eaten.  It made me hate him even more because I had tried to perfect a chocolate chip recipe for years, and I had yet to do it.  This? This was perfect.

"They're so good."

"Thank you," he nodded, beginning to clean up his mess.  "They're my favorite."

"I could eat all of them."

I could only see his side profile, but I noticed the small smile on his face. Finishing up the two chocolate chip cookies, I soon was asking Harry for more. He grabbed two more, placing them on my plate. Once I was about halfway through the fourth one, I told him I couldn't finish it, my eyes widening when he took it off my plate and ate it without any hesitation. I still didn't understand why he felt so comfortable eating after me, recalling when I had made him a sandwich and he ate that after me as well. It truly was odd, but I tried not to think about it.

"Okay, time for bed," he stated once he finished up the dishes.

"Why?" I asked, finishing up my water.

"It's one in the morning, Mags," he chuckled softly, walking over to me. "Come on."

I sighed, scooting out of my stool. Of course, I nearly stumbled, my balance off kilter after all the drinking I had done tonight. Harry chuckled, but his hands had quickly grabbed onto mine in an effort to balance me out. Smiling up at him, he shifted his hands to my shoulders, steering me toward my room once again. He turned on the light, the room being cast in a warm glow.

"So, can I spend the night on your sofa?" he asked. "It's pretty late."

"You scared the killer's gonna get you," I giggled as I looked up at him. "Hmm?"

"I'm not scared."

"That's something a scaredy-cat would say," I told him.

He chuckled. I watched as he grabbed his jacket off my mattress, walking over to the chair in the corner of my room and setting it there. To my surprise, he walked back, shifting the covers back from the mattress. He patted the bed for me, my face burning as I looked at him. I had never had a man do anywhere near as much as Harry was doing for me in this evening alone, the curly-haired man sighing when I didn't move at all.

"What? What is it? Tell me what you want so I can put you to bed, woman."

"You'll sit with me?"

"Your sober self would be beating the daylights out of you," he laughed softly. "I won't tell her, though."

"Good," I nodded, Harry chuckling when instead of climbing into bed I wrapped my arms around him. "Okay, I kind of get uncomfortable with hugs if I don't start them, so can you just—"

I let go quickly, my eyes widening. I hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable, and he seemed to realize I was becoming a bundle of nerves because he quickly wrapped his arms around me, my cheek pressing against his chest. I could hear his heart beat, the soft murmur slowly picking up to an intense drumming. It was cute to think he was nervous, my hands shifting so that they could hide under his shirt.

"What are you doing?" he laughed as my index traced different shapes against his lower back.

"You're nervous."

"No."

"Don't lie," I told him.

"Fine, fine, only because it's a sin. I know," he nodded.

I smiled as he held me, his heartbeat soon falling to a slight murmur again unlike the fast drumming it had been before. He allowed me to continue tracing small designs on his lower back, Harry not letting go until I started to. I climbed into bed, Harry working to tuck me in before he sat beside me. I was surprised he was being so kind, but then again, I wasn't. He was normally pretty sweet when I was drunk or tipsy.

"I'm going to sit on the other side because there is not enough room for me to comfortably sit."

Before he could truly move, I was shifting over so that he would have more room. It made him smile, Harry kicking his shoes off before he moved so he was fully sitting on my bed. He sat with his hands in his lap, his eyes focusing down on me as a I was stuck looking up at him. Even if I didn't enjoy admitting it, he was always so attractive. His eyes, his hair, the way he carried himself. Every single bit of it.

"I can stay, though, yeah?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah. There are extra blankets in the closet and you can take some of these pillows," I nodded, pointing to the pillows next to me. "I don't mind."

"Perfect."

For a few moments, he was completely quiet. I felt like I couldn't fall asleep now, even though when we had first arrived I was ready to pass out. Shifting somewhat closer to him, Harry chuckled, one of his hands playing with a few strands of my hair. We were both quiet, not saying a word, and I couldn't tell how I felt. It was like things were awkward, yet they weren't. Though, before I could think of anything to say to him, he began speaking.

"I'm going to get those blankets because I'm pretty tired, okay?"

"Awe man," I complained.

"What?"

"I wanted to fall asleep first. But that's okay. I hope you have the best dreams ever," I told him.

He smiled, combing his fingers through my hair gently. I sent him a little grin, Harry shaking his head. He moved to get up, but I was quickly sitting up as well, Harry watching as I grabbed two pillows from beside me and held them out to him. He assured me he would be back, the curly-haired man leaving the room for a few minutes. It took a while longer than I expected, but I heard rustling in the hallway so I figured it meant he was grabbing blankets. Not much later, he was leaning against the doorframe to my room, green eyes focusing on me.

"Maybe if we turn the light off you'll fall asleep," he stated before flicking the switch off, casting the room in darkness. "Goodnight."

"Harry?"

"Mhm?"

"Just one more hug? Please? I won't ask again."

He sighed, his footsteps soft on the carpet. I could only make out his profile since the kitchen light was on, but I smiled when he wrapped his arms around me. Even though he claimed he didn't like hugs, he gave really good ones. Plus, he always smelled so good. I held onto him tightly, giggling when he nudged his face into the crook of my neck and settled there for the rest of the hug. This time, though, he pulled away. I smiled when I felt his hands on my face, my hands resting over his.

"Thank you for having me, Magdalina."

"Thank you for taking care of me," I mumbled.

"Mhm. Even if you're misbehaving, I'll be there to save the day.

"Just because I was giving—"

"We don't have to continue talking about it.  I feel bad even having that image of you in my head."

He was saying it in a way that made me think he really did feel bad seeing me like that.  Of course, the moments after had made me feel like he was incredibly frustrated with me, but it was clear now that he just wanted to be respectful.  After all, he had me change because he felt like my little nighty wasn't appropriate.  I felt like it was sweet, especially since I was so used to men trying to get under my clothes, so to speak.

"Goodnight," he murmured. 

"Goodnight."

He chuckled, letting go of me.  I let go of him, noticing that he was still standing in the doorway as I got situated.  It was clear he wanted to be sure I was cozy in my bed before he left, the idea surprising to me, however, I appreciated it more than he would ever understand.  It wasn't until I was finally falling asleep that I felt like I noticed him leave the doorway, my mind hoping that I wouldn't remember a lot of this evening simply because of the way I had acted for most of it.