The Little Love

6. The Craving

It was 4 in the morning, and all you could think of was grilled cheese sandwiches.

You loved food, but this is ridiculous, you thought to yourself. Who thinks about grilled cheese at four in the morning? Normal people sleep at this time of night. Like your husband was.

Harrison was sleeping next to you, his face was a picture of calm. You envied him. You also want to fall into a deep sleep like him. But all you could think about was that perfect grilled cheese sandwich he makes. You contemplated whether you should wake him up. You didn't want to, because ever since he found out that you were pregnant, he waited on your hand and foot. He would literally do everything for you. And you knew he wouldn't mind waking up at this godforsaken hour to make you a sandwich. But should you really wake him? He just looks so peaceful.

On the other hand though, you were a complete shoob in the kitchen. You could make a decent sandwich, but not without burning yourself in the process. And Harrison had almost forbidden you to enter the kitchen since you nicked your fingers while cutting salads last week. You told him it was a small cut, not a big deal, but he was not listening at all. He was afraid that there could be a bigger accident, so it'll be better if you didn't enter the kitchen at all.

In the end, your craving won. You slowly un-wrapped his hands from your body, and padded into the kitchen. Careful not to make a noise, you start preparing for the sandwiches. Not wanting wake haz, you had kept the lights of the kitchen dim, which ultimately proved to be your doom

"oww, fuck!" you cursed a little too loudly, having slammed your head on a cabinet door, trying to take out a plate, which you dropped, thankfully, it didn't break. In the daze of the pain in your head, you go ahead to flip the sandwich, only to burn a finger, making you cruse more. Suddenly the kitchen was filled with light.

Waking up to the sudden sound of something falling in the kitchen, Harrison's first instinct was to look for you beside him. When he realized you were absent, he rushed out of the bedroom, and into the kitchen, only to find you with your index finger under running water, knowing clearly that you've burned your finger.

"And what exactly are you doing?" Harrison stood at the kitchen door. The sleepiness evident on his face, but his eyes were bright, catching you doing something he asked you not to. "I thought i told you to wake me up in these cases." He walks in and takes your hand, looking at the burn, before inspecting the lump on the side of your forehead where you banged into a cabinet door. He hands you a pack of frozen peas for your forehead, before getting the first aid for your burned finger. The disappointment on his face was enough for you to go teary eyed. Stupid hormones, you thought to yourself, making me emotional at everything.

After taking care of your hurts, he finishes making the sandwiches; he puts the plate in front of you, noticing your sniffling. He sighs and comes round the kitchen island, wrapping you in a hug, and you start crying quietly.

"I'm sorry, i should've woken you up, but you looked so peaceful, and I didn't want to wake you, and it's just a sandwich, and i thought I could make it, and I don't know why I'm crying, I'm so stupid." You ramble on without even knowing where this all came from.

"Hey, you are not stupid." He pulls away from you, holding your face in his hands. "I told you to stay away from the kitchen, because every time you're in here, you hurt yourself somehow. Remember the first time I cooked you dinner?"

You clearly remember that night. It was one of the best dates you've ever had, if not for the small incident.

"You almost cut off your entire thumb while cutting tomatoes" he continues.

"It was a small cut" you sniffle.

"Half your finger nail was gone babe. You bled all over the ingredients. It was not a small cut" he smirks.

"Okay fine. Maybe I've had a few small incidents." You huff in annoyance.

"You burned yourself while making pasta, which is basically burning yourself while boiling water." He laughs, taking seat beside you. Noticing your annoyed expression, he continues "all I'm trying to say love, no offense, you are kind of a disaster in the kitchen, getting hurt. And I know you can handle it, but I don't want you to get hurt. Not now. Who knows when the small burn can turn into a big accident?" concern clouding his face.

"I know. I'm sorry." You really felt sorry. Here he was nothing but concerned for the well being of you and your baby, and all you could think about was how you don't need anyone's help and can do everything on your own. Maybe it was okay to ask for help. Suddenly, you remembered something very important.

"My sandwiches!" you pull the plate towards you, making Haz laugh.

"Baby," you start with a mouthful, "your other attempts at the kitchen maybe doubtful at times, but I can say this one thing, our baby will grow up eating the best grilled cheese in the entire world."

"Why, thank you." he takes off an imaginary chef's hat and bows, making you laugh.

The next night, it was the same dilemma, but this time, it was chocolate covered strawberries.

"Haz," you call him softly, not wanting to startle him "Haz, Harrison, wake up."

"What, where, who?" he wakes with a jolt, his head snapping everywhere before focusing on you, "are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong you div. I'm just really craving some chocolate covered strawberries."

"Oh," he slumped back into the pillows, before getting up and picking up his phone from the night stand.

"What are you doing?"

"I said I'll take care of you, always." He dials a number "wake up, it's time to do your duty."

You can clearly hear the groggy voice of the boy on the other side of the phone.

"No everything is fine. Just get to our place, and pick up some chocolate covered strawberries on the way."

"Why?" the bewildered question clearly heard by you.

"Cause it's important. Get here soon. Bye." He hangs up before getting under the covers, pulling you in for a cuddle. "The strawberries will be here soon."

You start to giggle, "That was ingenious, making him get the strawberries."

"What?" Harrison gives you a sleepy smile. "He is the god father. He needs to pull his weight."

30 minutes later the doorbell rings, and you make a beeline for it. There stands the tired looking boy,

"Here are the strawberries, and I'm crashing in the guest room." He hands you the box of chocolate covered strawberries and heads straight into the guestroom, no wonder falling on his face on the bed. You didn't mind though. You had your strawberries, for now, you were content.