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Fine. wbu?

Was the reply I received after a good 12 hours. I was exhausted, mentally and physically after a sleepless night. The only company were those thoughts, all tangled up, ready to pull me down.

It was hotter than usually, the unpredictable changes of this weather boiling my annoyance. I padded around the house setting the temperature of the air conditioners until there is pleasant atmosphere inside.

"2 cups yoghurt? What?" I whisper to myself, intently reading the ingredients on my phone. Hesitatingly I add 2 cups of sweetened yoghurt inside the already half filled blender.

A day and a half, he has not bothered contacting. I felt this need to distract my mind from that undeniable sting settling within me.

Absent-mindedly I switch on the blender only to watch the unmixed ingredients erupting out from the top, slowly making its way down. It took no time for the pink tinted mixture to cover the still active blender machine. I snap out of my horrified daze and turn the switch towards the right only to give it more power to increase the mess. I desperately press my palm atop the dancing cap in an attempt to terminate the gooey mess but it did no good.

"Mrs. Barton!" I call out, "A little help please!" My call was not returned and I settle on doing it myself. Turning the switch made no difference as the switch was, indeed, lodged making me want to bang my own head on it. The mixture came out in little droplets as I increase the pressure on the cap. I aim for the pluck on my top left but embarrassingly did not even got close as my left hand was occupied holding the useless piece of...cap. I reach for the pluck again, failing terribly.

"Mrs. Barton! Help me for God's sake!" I growl, staring at the sweet destruction I had caused. I sense foot steps approaching me and let out an audible sigh of relief. God my savior is here.

A pair of hands set on either side of my waist, warm chest brushing against my cool back. My heart leaps at the contact and an involuntary gasp escapes my parted lips.

"Silly girl," Visible goosebumps arise on my skin, recognizing the unique rasp of the voice. He reaches for the pluck, flicking it off without struggle. I exhale a heavy breathe that I unconsciously kept in and hope that the ridiculously heavy pounding of my heart will seize soon.

"Hi." He plants a kiss on my jaw from behind, after the heroic act. His such gentle actions fused my peevishness I felt for him.

He languidly turned my body around, which made myself an open book in front of him.

"What in the world were you doing, Chandler?"

"I-i was just...um.." I struggle with my words,"What are you doing here?" Was what came out. I was a bit astound by my own bluntness, Harry's frown confirming that it had the similar affect on him.

"You don't want me here," His masculine arms fall to his side. "Alright then." He manage to plaster an offended expression.

"No, no!" I exclaim, "I did not mean that." I take a silent step back to increase the distance between us, which did not really went unnoticed by him.

"Oh! You do want me here." He shakes his chest playfully, taking a few steps closer to my body which was already pressed against the kitchen counter.

"Stay away from me." I place my hand on his firm chest, stopping him from decreasing the little distance. The action might seem playful but it was in fact the other way around. "Don't flatter yourself, Mister."

This definitely gives off that I don't like touching him, it's actually vise versa. Never have I ever felt those extreme rushes flowing around my body by only a simple, certain touch. But my body reacts otherwise, it's like touching hot food. You know it will burn you but you still eat it. You do it every time. Wow that was a horrible example. What is wrong with me?

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