The last time I was packing a bag to stay at a man's house was probably when I was eighteen.  It was that short time between Timothy and I being graduated and right before he proposed.  Of course, I had packed my bag to stay at a friend's house plenty of times, but I always thought that this was different.  I could forget my hair tie or something and still ask my friend for one.  If I left my hair tie for when I showered here, what would I do at Harry's place?

Sighing to myself, I tried to go over everything that I would need, knowing that I had packed far too much.  It was truly a blessing and a curse when it came down to it.  After I was certain I packed my bag with everything I could possibly need, I headed to the bathroom, double checking that I looked okay.  I didn't want to be over the top, so I opted for a light wash pair of jeans and a white bishop sleeve top.  It was kind of hot out, so I didn't want to wear anything that was going to be too suffocating, but I figured with my shirt having airy sleeves it would probably be fine. 

It was close to seven-thirty when I heard the doorbell ring.  I quickly left the bathroom, walking to the door and glancing through the peephole.  Harry was standing there, of course, looking handsome as always.  Pulling the door open, I watched as he quickly stood up straighter, his right hand behind his back.  I wondered what he was doing, but there was a small smile on his face, my cheeks flushing when I realized his hair was parted down the middle.  It wasn't an aggressive part, but enough that his hair fell better—in a way that made me, for some reason, think of incredibly sinful thoughts.

"Hi," he greeted, pulling flowers from behind his back.  "Now before you start crying, I made sure every single one didn't have a thorn, and, I didn't go over the top.  See, it's smaller than the last bouquet."

Even with him explaining, there were tears in my eyes and he groaned, quickly pulling me into him.  It was like it was the only thing that could get him to hold me without any sign of hesitation, a giggle leaving my lips when he shut the door and started murmuring to himself about how he needed to get me something else next time.  I held onto him tightly, knowing that he had wanted no affection at all yesterday evening, but was already giving me a hug.  I mean, I had seen him for probably ten minutes this morning before he left, but it hadn't been enough time to even remotely squeeze in a hug.  Pulling away from him some, I giggled once more, glancing at the flowers as I held onto his waist.

"They're so pretty," I told him, wiping under my eyes.  "Thank you so much."

"I don't really like that I have made you cry already," he chuckled softly.

"Happy tears," I assured him.  "Thank you, Harry."

"Yeah, of course."

I let go of him, wanting to hold his hand but the right one was occupied by flowers while the left one was still in the works of healing so I didn't want to mess with it.  Instead, I grabbed a vase, filling it with water and placing it on the counter.  Harry did his best to get the paper off, explaining that his hand wasn't as sore as yesterday but it was still sensitive.

"Yeah, I have no idea why I picked to wear a shirt with buttons underneath this, but it was the only thing that looked good with this shirt over it and what not."

Glancing over at him, I had noticed that he was wearing a nice outfit.  He was always well dressed, but I liked that he had a button down on underneath the checkered red and black shirt he was wearing.  He always looked incredible, and I wish I understood where he got his fashion sense from.  I also noted that he had rings on today, one of them the letter H and another the letter S.

"Did you buy these?" I asked, pointing to the rings.

"Oh, yeah," he nodded.  "Why? Too much?"

"I don't think that.  They're just very ... you."

He smiled at my words.  I quickly put the flowers in the water before telling him I needed to put some jewelry on before we could leave.  He followed along with me to my bathroom, sitting on the countertop in the small room while I finished getting ready for our evening together.  I always liked his company in my home, but every time I looked up at him he was staring at me.  It was insane to me, not in a bad way, just in a way that made me nervous. 

"Can I help you?" I asked as I put my earring in.

"You don't want my answer to that, doll."

I gave him a dirty look.

"What? Like you don't want me so bad," he stated.  "Just wait.  I'll have you begging soon enough."

"Harry," I complained.

"Oh come on," he chuckled, grabbing my chin and turning my face so I was looking up at him.  "I bet you'll even let me spit in your mouth."

"You're gross."

"Mhm," he nodded.  "I know.  You'll be begging for me though, don't forget."

I shewed his hand away, the man beside me chuckling while I had the image of what he described playing over and over again in my head.  It was beyond dirty, and while I had definitely had a handful of raunchy experiences in public bathrooms, not once had a man spit in my mouth.  Of course, I wanted to be fully grossed out by the thought that was playing in my mind now, but I was irritated that the more I thought about it, the more that I was scared he was entirely correct.  Maybe I would be allowing of such a vulgar action.  Swallowing hard, I found myself finishing up by putting on some lip gloss, Harry groaning and hopping off of the counter.

"I can't watch.  You're way too hot."

"What?" I laughed.

"Nothing.  Very bad thoughts.  I don't want to ruin Little Miss Catholic."

It made me blush, Harry holding his right hand out to me once I was finished.  Thankfully, I had put shoes on prior to him getting here so I didn't have to make a pit stop to do that.  It didn't take long to grab onto his hand, leaving me to grab my overnight bag off of my bed.  However, Harry did not seem to appreciate the thought of me carrying it, so he pulled his hand away from mine and quickly grabbed the bag.

"I can carry it," I told him.

"Let me."

"Harry," I tried.

"You're going to make a wounded man take his belt off right now?" he asked.

My eyes widened, and I quickly handed him my bag without any hesitation now.  It made him chuckle, Harry and I walking through the house.  I made sure all of the lights were off as we went, grabbing my pocketbook off of the small table along with my keys from the clay bowl.  Harry was already heading to the car so he could put my bag in the trunk while I locked up the house.  However, he was waiting by the passenger door for me, a small smile on my face as I approached.

"I'll be good," I told him quietly.

"I know," he nodded, moving his hand off of the door to cup my cheek.  "I don't think you're planning on getting wasted, and you're a little shy today, so I believe it."

"I'm not shy."

"Oh, but a liar? That's not like you," he chuckled.

I pushed at his chest lightly before I got in the car, Harry waiting until I was situated to shut the door.  It didn't take long for him to get in the vehicle as well, Harry shutting his door and then starting the car.  I found myself glancing down at my nails, hoping that none of them would chip since I painted them earlier today.  But, I was quickly distracted when Harry didn't back out right away, my cheeks flushed when he patted the seat beside him.

"C'mere."

There was a sense of hesitation on my end.  After yesterday, I didn't want to be pushy.  Even if he had gone out of his way to hug me when he had first arrived, I was still a little worried about being far too touchy when it came to him.  He hated touch, and while he maybe was starting to accept the fact that I liked it a lot, I still wanted to be sure that there were clear boundaries set with us and that he knew I was very willing to compromise based on his comfort. 

"Magdalina," he said softly.  "Scoot over here, please."

He barely ever said that.  It was so uncommon for him to say please, and I found myself quickly moving over when he had verbally assured me it was what he wanted.  I never wanted to assume anything, and I hated thinking about when we were first getting to know each other and I had been overly touchy with him.  He probably had hated it, and I had no idea.  Though, I tried not to focus on that.  After all, there were times when he liked his space and very much needed it.  Yet, as of right now, it was obvious he was in a less tense mood when it came to physical touch and I was more than excited about it.  He knew I was never purposely touchy, but I was thankful that he was allowing it now. 

"Okay, so the game plan is to watch the movie first, of course," Harry started to say as he backed out of my driveway.  "And then I figured we could get food at Nikki's."

"I love Nikki's.  They have the best burgers," I told him.

"I know, I know.  Good plan?"

"Great plan."

"Very good."

"Can I, um...?"

I stopped myself.  He glanced down at me briefly as he drove, and I felt embarrassed with the words that were dangling in my mind.  I wanted to ask if I could wrap my arms around him.  He had been nice enough to let me sit beside him, and I certainly didn't want to push it.  Not after everything that had happened last night, and I didn't want him to feel trapped either. 

"What do you want, darling?"

I swallowed hard, Harry pulling up to a stop sign and placing his hand on my thigh.  My fingers instantly started to play with the rings on his hand, and my mind was wandering with an endless amount of thoughts.  I wondered how I had managed to bag such an attractive man.  I had no idea how he liked me, no set idea as to how he could possibly want to be with me.  Even if I knew I wasn't unattractive, I just still felt like I wasn't quite on his level.  Though, my thoughts were quickly pushed away when he used his bandaged hand to tilt my chin up, our faces much closer than I was expecting.  Almost immediately my cheeks were tinging pink, a small smirk gracing his features.

"Tell me what you want, sweet girl."

His voice was low.  And as always, I had no idea how he did it.  The way he spoke, the way he held eye contact, the way that he was as a human being would always keep me reeling.  I wanted him to be happy, content, and adoring when he was with me.  I was in awe with the man sitting beside me, his light grasp on my face shifting so that his thumb was pressed to one side of my face and his fingers gripped the otherside.

"Doll, you better answer me before this light turns green."

"Um, I was just going to ask if I could hold onto you but you can say no.  I know you hate touch, and I–"

"Sure," he nodded, letting go of me completely because the light had turned green.

It was a complete shock to me.  I had expected him to turn me down, but the sudden lack of touch and eye contact left me breathless the way that it always did.  As I wrapped my arms around his waist, I was surprised that he wasn't nearly as tense as I imagined he would be.  Sure, he was definitely stiff, but here he was, seemingly fine for the most part.  He was staring out at the road as I continued to stare, and I couldn't help but think about the fact that every time he was focused on something, I wanted to know his thoughts.  I needed to know every image, every word, every movement that his mind made.  He was a smart man, I knew that.  Any guy who had the vast amount of knowledge that he did was smart, but Harry was far more intelligent than the average person with the way that he spoke, presented himself, and even interacted with people.

"Always staring," he murmured.

"I'd apologize if I was sorry," I told him.

"You're funny.  Hopefully I get to keep you, doll."

His words were sweet, but the idea behind them made me frown.  I didn't like to think about how the last woman he really liked didn't like him the same.  Even if it had only been a short time, his ex had already moved on.  It wasn't bad that he was also moving on quickly, but I found myself hoping he would get to keep me also, simply because I had gone through the same thing before.  I had wanted to let someone be a part of my life and they didn't want it.

"Do you like soda?" Harry asked.

"What kind?"

"I don't know.  Coke? Sprite? Fanta?"

"I prefer Sprite I think, but Coke isn't bad."

"Okay, perfect.  So you want popcorn and a Sprite?"

"We're not going to share?" I asked.

"I don't know how you are," he shrugged.  "I wanted to figure it out first."

"You and I eat after each other already, I really don't think taking a drink after one another is going to be a big deal."

He chuckled, nodding.  I was still wrapped around him, managing to finagle my way under his arm so that I could rest my head against him.  He was driving with his good hand, his bad hand resting in his lap.  I was truly surprised that he was allowing me to be clingy, my arms tightening around his waist some.  He let out a soft chuckle, pulling his hand off the steering wheel on a straightaway to play with my hair briefly.  Butterflies were fluttering around in my stomach, and I was scared that this was too good to be true.  He was so handsome, so charming, so overwhelmingly lovely that I felt like there was absolutely no way this could be happening right now.

"You know I'm not going anywhere, right?" he asked softly as he shifted his hand back to the steering wheel.

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?" he continued.  "You're holding on like you're scared I'm going to disappear."

"I don't know how much of this I'll get tonight, so I'm just getting everything I need right now," I told him honestly.  "Plus, I want you to know that I like you a little bit."

"Oh yeah, because it was really hard to tell.  I wasn't sure if you were holding me because you liked me or because you hated me."

It made me laugh, Harry glancing down at the same time I looked up at him.  He really was so pretty, and I still couldn't find the right words to describe a man of his nature.  I just knew that he was attractive in a way that no other man I had ever crossed paths with was, and it was hard to believe that a man of his stature was willing to be a part of my life. 

By the time he parked, it was eight.  I knew the movie started at eight-thirty, so we had plenty of time.  He moved so that he could wrap his arms around me, the car running as he held onto me tightly while he let me continue to hold onto him.

"We have to get out eventually."

"I know."

"I swear we can hug again," he assured.

"I know, I just like this moment."

He held my head against his chest, and I felt goosebumps raise on my arms.  I knew that this moment would have to come to an end, but it was endearing in a way.  He was treating me like I was delicate and needed a lot of care.  It was uncanny to me, especially when I knew he hated this kind of thing.  Nonetheless, he was committing to it, and I would be forever grateful for him to feel safe enough with me to hug for this long.  Though, of course, he was the one to pull away.  Harry turned the car off as I pulled away.  My cheeks flushed when he cupped my chin with his good hand, Harry pressing a kiss to my temple before he got out of the car and held the door open for me to scoot out as well.

"You're lucky," he told me as we began to walk.

"Why's that?" I asked.

"Well, I very rarely allow what just happened," he said quietly.  "And by very rarely, I mean you're the only person I have ever let hold me while driving."

He took my hand after he shut and locked the car, and I was left a little confused.  After all, I assumed he had done it before–let people hold onto him as he drove–but after his words it was obvious that was not the case.  But then I wondered what made me different? Why was he comfortable when it came to me? What did I do differently? I was bewildered in one aspect, but incredibly grateful as well.  He truly was everything that I could have asked for in a man, and I just appreciated the fact that he was willing to make accommodations for me that he had never made for anyone else.

I smiled as we walked, the two of us rather quiet on the short trek to the movie theater.  After about a two minute walk, we made it up to the ticket booth.  There was a decent line, but Harry ignored it and pulled me inside the building, my eyebrows narrowing.  I wondered if he had purchased our tickets earlier in the day or something for us to avoid the line.  After all, I was pretty confused until he pulled his wallet out with his left hand, Harry walking up to the guy who was collecting tickets.

"Hi, sir, can I just have your tickets?" the guy asked.

Harry pulled his ID out instead, and I was even more confused now.  I watched as the man scanned it over, a little uncertain at first, but then his eyes widened and he nodded quickly, handing the card back to Harry.  The man beside me put the card in his wallet before pulling out a twenty that would have more than covered the bill and our snacks before handing it to the guy in front of us.

"If Mr. Paft speaks to you, tell him Clark let you in without any problems."

"Absolutely," Harry nodded.  "You have a good evening, Clark."

"Thank you, Mr. Styles."

I gave Harry a look, the man beside me shaking his head as he walked with me up to the concession counter.

"The dad of a friend of mine owns this place, so I get in for free but I always feel like a dick not paying."

It was sweet that he still wanted to pay, even if he didn't have to do so.  Of course, if I had the opportunity to come see movies for free, I knew I wouldn't take advantage of it, but I also was pretty sure I wouldn't feel bad about it either.  Before I could think much more about it, I was surprised when Harry wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"You literally hate touch.  I'm shocked to say I got to hold you in the car."

"I don't like the way those guys are staring at you," he told me, nodding toward the entrance to the different theatres.

When I glanced over, I did see several guys staring at me, the four definitely checking me out.  I couldn't tell if they were harmless or if they had ill intentions, so maybe I was glad that Harry put his arm around.  But, I certainly wasn't all that pleased with the fact that he had to be less comfortable simply because a couple of guys were looking at me wrong.

"You don't have—"

"Of course I don't," he quickly said.  "I'm so very sorry that you're stuck with my arm around you now."

The words and phrasing made me laugh.  He was making it sound like I was the one who didn't like it, and I thought that was incredibly funny.  After all, this man who absolutely despised any form of affection, physical touch, or anything along those lines had been allowing of three separate occasions, and it had been just tonight alone.

"I don't mind your arm around me," I told him, my arms wrapping around his waist as I looked up at him. 

He had tensed up with my movement, but I watched as he smiled down at me.  My cheeks flushed when he even left a kiss to my temple, the two of us shifting up in line.  It wasn't long until we were ordering, Harry asking for a medium popcorn and a large drink.  However, when they said he could upgrade to a large for only ten cents more, he agreed.  Once we got our popcorn and soft drink, Harry and I started walking toward the theatre.

"This thing is almost as big as my head," I said to him, holding the soda up next to my head so he could see.  "Right?"

"I think so.  Damn, that's insane.  You better not drink all of that.  If you're the type of person that gets up in the middle of a movie I'll be irritated."

"No, not me," I laughed, the two of us finding the theatre not much later.  "I always sit through them without fault."

"Good."

I nodded.  Harry held the door for me, the two of us heading into the theatre.  It was already dim, so I knew the previews had started.  However, Harry and I managed to find some decent seats toward the top.  He let me sit down first before he sat next to me, leaving me to quickly place my drink in the holder. 

"Do you want to hold the popcorn?" he asked softly.

"If you don't want to, I can definitely."

"I don't mind, I just was wondering."

It made me giggle that we were whispering, Harry chuckling also.  He kept the popcorn on his lap though, Harry beginning to eat some popcorn before I followed.  Honestly, I probably would have grabbed the first handful if he didn't beat me, but he had.  I took the first sip of soda, followed by a few more while we waited for the movie to start before Harry took a sip.  He would whisper to me about different trailers, and which ones he thought looked interesting.  I always enjoyed listening to him speak, but hearing him talk about movies was different in a way that I couldn't pin.  I just knew he was far more excited about them than some of the other things he would speak to me about.

•••

After nearly two hours, the movie finished.  Harry and I waited for the crowd to leave before we got up to go as well.  The movie was very energetic and full of action, so I enjoyed it a lot, but I could tell that Harry probably would have preferred something else.  Of course, it was clear he didn't dislike it, but I just knew that he definitely probably wished we saw something else.  After all, I felt that any man who stood up and stretched after a movie was probably bored of it.  Or, I could have also been reading him entirely wrong.

On the way out, we threw away our half empty popcorn, Harry asking if I wanted anymore Sprite.  When I assured him I was fine, he finished it off before tossing it in the trash.  We walked out of the theatre then, Harry and I making our way toward the bathrooms.  I could tell there was going to be a line for mine, Harry raising an eyebrow.

"I don't mind waiting," he told me.

"No, I'll feel bad."

"I have nowhere in particular to be, don't worry about it," he assured.

Nodding, I walked into the bathroom, noting that there were at least five women in front of me waiting for a stall.  It made sense, but there was something about waiting for the bathroom that I always hated tremendously.  It took what felt like ten minutes, but was probably only five, to get through the line and eventually I made it into a stall.  Hurrying to use the bathroom, I found myself finishing up as quickly as I could.  I washed my hands, making sure my hair and makeup still looked good before heading out to see Harry standing just outside.

"Do you want to walk to Nikki's?" he asked.

"We can.  It's not far."

"Great."

I tried to hold the door open for him, but he did not let it happen.  In fact, he didn't even begin to walk out the door until I had stopped trying to hold it open for him.  I understood chivalry, but I didn't mind holding the door open for him every once in a while either.  I mean, it wasn't like I was bothered by holding the door open for him.  Really, I was just doing it to be kind.  But, I also knew that Harry was much different from any man, and he had a certain way of doing things.  I figured most of those things had to be important to him if he had not lost his ways yet, but I also wondered if maybe it was his mother who raised him so well that he had simply never wanted to be any different.

"Can I hold your hand?" he asked.

"Did you think I was going to say no?"

"I have no idea," he shrugged, his fingers intertwining with mine quickly.  "Did you paint your nails?"

"I did.  I wasn't sure if I liked the color because I don't usually go for green, but it's a light green so I figured it would work well."

"I think it looks really nice," Harry told me, glancing at my hand as we walked before looking at me.  "I always wanted someone to paint my nails but everyone always said it was weird."

It made me sad to think that they had said that to him.  After all, there were plenty of men who wore nail polish in bands and stuff, so I wasn't sure why they had been so against painting his nails.  Plus, I always used to ask Timothy if he would let me paint his nails just for fun and he would always say no.  Even if I offered to take it off, he would turn it down or disregard it.  So, hearing that Harry wanted his nails painted was like a dream come true.

"I'll paint them for you," I quickly told him.  "My ex never wanted me to paint his nails.  I can even take it off after if you want."

"I would just let it run its course, doll," he chuckled.  "But yeah, I think I'd like that."

"Okay, yay! I obviously don't have any with me today, but we can do that on a different night."

He nodded.  As we continued to walk to Nikki's, Harry and I stopped and looked in different shops on the streets.  Most of the places were closed now, but the windows were lit up.  Anything that I said I liked he told me he would buy for me, but I quickly would tell him that was not at all what I wanted.  I mean, it was sweet of him, but I didn't agree to go on this date because he wanted to buy me a bunch of stuff. 

"Are you sure?" Harry asked.  "I'll come down here tomorrow with you."

"Harry, no," I told him.

"Are you positive, doll? One-hundred percent certain?"

He was always so funny, and I nodded quickly, a chuckle leaving his lips.  We finally made it to Nikki's, the very short trip taking a while since we were goofing off a little bit more than I think either of us anticipated.  Harry held the door open for me, leaving me to head inside.  It was pretty busy, my cheeks flushing when Harry wrapped his right arm around me from behind, his forearm resting against my upper chest. I glanced back at him, a small smile on his face before I looked in front of me once more.

"I think we're overdressed," he murmured.

"You might be right," I nodded.  "That's okay."

"I can undress you and fix that problem," Harry murmured to me.

"If you don't stop."

"You'll what, doll? You know you'll fold against me.  I always win our games."

And again, I was thinking about what a way with words he had.  Every single time he spoke, I felt something deep within me that I had never felt before.  Harry was always so certain on what to say, how to phrase his words, and the tone he was to use in order to get a specific point across.  It never ceased to amaze me, truly.  He was unlike any other man I had ever met in my life, and I found myself glancing back at him just for him to press a kiss to my cheek.

"Be good for me," he murmured.  "Good girls get rewards.  They also don't get my belt around their wrists."

"I'm being good," I said to him.

"Yeah, for now."

It made me laugh, Harry chuckling softly.  My cheeks were burning from him kissing my face out of nowhere, and I was surprised entirely by the amount of affection he had shown today.  Then again, I figured it had something to do with him having time to think about the entire day.  I was almost positive that he had told me about how if he was able to plan for physicl touch, it made him less uncomfortable.  So, if we had this date planned for a few days, he was very much aware it was going to happen.  Not to mention he was the one initiating it, so I knew that also helped him.

It had been at least ten minutes by the time the hostess was able to see us, Harry standing next to me instead of behind me now.  She asked how many, Harry saying it was two.  I was incredibly surprised to hear there was a thirty minute wait, and I would have gladly sat through it, but Harry quickly pulled out two twenties and handed them to the hostess.

"Harry," I complained.

"What? I'm not waiting that long if I don't have to."

The girl laughed, grabbing two menus.  We walked over to an empty booth, the girl setting the menus down and telling us to enjoy our meal.  He waited until I sat down to sit on the other side of the booth, Harry's eyes trained on me.  I couldn't see him, but I could feel his stare burning into my skin as I set my purse on the seat.  When I glanced up at him, my eyes met his, Harry continuing to hold eye contact.

"I'm excited to meet Izabelle," I told him.

"She's excited to meet you," Harry nodded.  "She was meowing up a storm while I told her."

It made me laugh, Harry chuckling also.  When the waitress came over, Harry and I got drinks.  He ordered a water and so did I, leaving me to glance over the menu like I hadn't been here a hundred times when I was in high school.  The menu was still the same—they hadn't changed anything.  I thought it left some normalcy here for me, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that a lot had changed since then.

"I used to come here all the time in high school."

"Did you now?" Harry asked.

"Mhm.  My friends and I would come here after football games and stuff.  Or we would hang out here on Friday nights when there wasn't a football game."

"That was probably fun," he nodded.  "I went to football games, but I wouldn't usually watch much of them."

"What do you mean?"

"Doll..." he started, raising his eyebrows.

"I don't think I get it."

"I was getting head usually," he shrugged.  "You know, very classy of me."

"Ohhh."

My cheeks burned and he laughed, telling me he didn't mean to embarrass me.  I assured him I wasn't embarrassed at all, simply surprised with his words.  He chuckled once more, and it was surprising how different our high school experiences had been from one another.  In one aspect, I had a few experiences when it came to what Timothy and I were doing, but Harry seemed to be very well versed when it came to his experience.  A part of me was even nervous, knowing that I didn't want him to expect anything from me.  Then again, I didn't think that was going to happen either.  He was almost always caring, and I doubted that would change.

The waitress came over to take our orders, Harry getting a cheeseburger with bacon while I just got a plain cheese burger.  He held his hands out across the table, but before I could hold onto his hands, both of mine wrapped around his wounded one, Harry watching me intently. 

"How was showering?"

"Miserable, if I'm honest," he told me.  "I don't even really use my left hand much, but I use it more than I anticipated, I guess."

I nodded.  Of course, I found myself apologizing for his hand, knowing that it was in some ways my fault.  He had asked if I needed help with anything, and I could have given him any job.  But,for whatever reason, I just had to give him blender duty.  Harry had assured me that it wasn't my fault, but I felt like it was in some ways.  We continued to chat for a while until our food came about different things at work.  And, while we were eating, we talked about different books that we had both read.  But, it wasn't until I had finished about half of my burger and Harry had finished all of his that the waitress came back over.

"Is there anything else I can grab you both?" she asked.

"Can I have a menu for shakes?" I asked.

"Certainly."

"If you didn't ask, I was going to," Harry told me.

"Thank goodness.  My friends always thought I was crazy wanting a shake after."

"Your friends might be weirdos," Harry chuckled.  "I'm kidding though, I've met them and they're cool."

It made me laugh, the woman placing a menu down in front of us and saying she would be back to check on us.  Harry and I looked over the menu, and I settled on a cookie dough shake while he did an Oreo one. 

"So, are you going to show me around your house?"

"I will," he nodded.  "After we feed Izabelle.  She didn't want to eat when I left."

"Awe, okay.  Your house is so pretty on the outside, I'm so excited to see inside."

"The inside is pretty cool, honestly.  I can't wait for you to see it also."

When the waitress came back over, we ordered our shakes to go, the woman nodding.  She said she would be back with a check.  I found myself a little nervous that he was going to pay for me again, so I quickly grabbed money out of my bag, handing it to him.

"What?"

"You've already paid a bunch."

"And?"

"I can't keep letting you.  Just take ten dollars."

"Magdalina, this isn't even going to cost ten dollars."

"Harry."

He shook his head.  "I will not take your money when I asked you on this date.  You can make it up to me by feeding Izabelle or something."

It made me laugh, and I triple checked that he was sure before I put the money in my bag.  Soon enough, Harry and I were getting our shakes and check at the same time.  Harry thanked the woman, placing way more money than necessary on the table and telling her to keep the change.  She asked if he was certain, and he nodded, getting up out of the booth and grabbing his milkshake before I did the same.

"Thank you," I told her.

"Have a great night!" she grinned.

Harry and I thanked her, one of my hands wrapping around his left upper arm as we left.  It wasn't long until we had left, Harry and I beginning to drink our milkshakes.  Mine was really good, and Harry said that his was really good.  Though, we didn't immediately head back toward the car.  I was confused, not certain what we were doing as he led us further down Main Street.  However, it wasn't long until I realized he was taking me to a small little fountain, Harry taking our milkshakes and setting them on the brick.  I was confused at first until he pulled out a quarter, handing it to me and then holding one for himself.

"I have a wish, do you?" he asked.

"I do."

"Alright, good."

It made me laugh when I watched him toss his coin into the fountain.  I waited until the water settled some before I tossed my coin into the water as well.  Of course, I knew I couldn't tell him my wish, but I hoped and wished for this to work out.  I didn't want to get my heart broken again.  Not with him.  He seemed broken in a way that was similar to me.  Harry had lost a lot throughout the years, the women that he loved never seemed to love him the same, and I could tell he really liked me.  All I wanted was for this to work out, Harry moving so he was glancing down at me.

"Magdalina?"

"Yeah?" I asked.

"You're very pretty," he told me softly.

It made me blush.  "So are you."

I was looking up at him now, and I could tell that his cheeks tinged pink also.  He was looking in my eyes, then he would glance down, and then our eyes would connect again.  I was a little confused, especially since he almost always was the one to hold eye contact the longest, Harry tucking my hair behind my ear and doing the same thing.  He kept eye contact, broke it to glance down briefly, and then kept eye contact once more.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing."

"Harry."

He was thinking about something.  I could tell.  While I knew he was always thinking a bunch, this was different.  It was like there was one sole thought in his mind.  And, as always, I wanted to know his every thought.  As an overthinker, I wanted to be able to see if his mind was just as jumbled all the time.  Though, with how well presented he was, I felt that wasn't possible.

"Harry?" I tried again.

"I just really want to kiss you."

My face started burning the second the words left his lips.

"I don't have to.  I know you're all—"

"You can," I told him.

"What?"

"You can kiss me.  I wouldn't mind if you—"

He didn't hesitate to kiss me then.  My hands rested on his waist, Harry's hands cupping my cheeks.  His rings were cold against my skin, but I didn't mind.  I enjoyed the way he felt against me.  His mouth was warm, soft, and I found myself squeezing his waist as we kissed.  The touch made him smile against my mouth, Harry letting out a quiet chuckle, his breath warm as it fanned over my lips before he was kissing me once more.

It became very apparent that he liked my bottom lip, Harry going back for it after we had separated for a moment.  He was hot, and needy, and I had never felt so much passion behind a kiss before.  Even if I had been kissing other guys over the past six months, this was the best one out of all of them.  I didn't know if it was because it had been long anticipated, or if it was because he was truly just that good, but he was definitely better than the rest.  It turned out that he was so good that when he pulled away, I was breathless, my face burning as I glanced up at him.

"You're suspiciously good at that, doll," he said to me.

"Me? No."

"Yes, you.  Who else did I just kiss?"

"I'm not that good," I laughed, my fingers tracing along his chest so I would have some sort of distraction.  "And I don't know, who else did you kiss?"

"Whatever.  You're silly," he said, shaking his head.  "Do you want to get going?"

"Only if I can try the shake you got because mine is good but I also really like Oreos."

It made him laugh, Harry grabbing both of our shakes off the brick.  I took his, though, sipping it several times and telling him it was really good.  He nodded, trading me his for mine.  I was thankful that he let me hold his hand on the way back to the car, especially since I was overly giddy from the kiss but also really shy now.  I didn't know why, but he always made me so nervous, even if I liked him a lot more than I had intended to.

He finished his shake on the walk to the car, and then managed to finish mine as well because I didn't want it all.  We threw both of the cups away once we reached the parking garage. I was confused at first when we got to the car and he opened only his door, but I realized he probably wanted me to sit next to him.  Scooting in so he would have enough room, Harry stepped into the car after me, shutting the door.

"I don't know what you were thinking about sleeping accommodations, Mags, but I know I promised I would hold you tonight and I don't want to break it."

My cheeks flushed when he remembered our pinky promise from last night, Harry backing out of the space.  It wasn't long until he began driving to his house.  I wanted to be clingy with him, especially since he had just kissed me, but I also didn't want to overstep any touching boundaries considering the fact that he was going to hold me later this evening.  Deciding that later would be far more worth it anyway, I just thought about his words, Harry clearing his throat when we hit a light.

"Doll?"

"I'll sleep wherever," I told him.  "Just as long as it's with you."

"Yeah?" he asked, his hand resting on my thigh the way it normally did when he was stopped at a light.

"Mhm."

"Good.  That makes me happy."

The ride to his house was rather quiet aside from the music that he turned on.  I could tell it wasn't the radio because of the lack of commercials, so I figured he had a cassette of some sort playing, and I wondered how he had picked out all the songs.  Then again, he had made a cassette for me before so it wouldn't have been all that big of a surprise.  It was a lot of seventies rock the way that my cassette had as well, but I mean, Harry had mentioned that he liked Led Zeppelin, so I wasn't all that surprised to hear him playing.  But, aside from the cassette, I wondered if his home was abundant with different music things.  That, or maybe with being such an avid reader he just had books lying around everywhere.