IX. Down on the carpet

When I got home, I immediately tucked myself in bed and slept straight away for more than half a day. I sleep like that every once in a while, don't ask me why though; it was as if my body needed that much slumber to replace those hours I lost in insomnia due to my liver. When I wasn't agonizing, I was sleeping or drinking. By the time I woke up, it was still early morning, around eight since I had slept very earlier, as soon as I reached my apartment after bringing Hermione home. I took a moment and gazed at nothing for waking me up.

I had nothing to do for the day; damn, it might have been hell or heaven, depending on how you see it. But it might have also been only good in the end; it had been ages since the last time I had "free" time, out of alcohol's custody or just feeling alive and not suffering. I laughed a little bit as realizing that. So, I lazily crept out of my bed and decided to make myself something for a change; it would probably end with something inedible, but I couldn't care more. I took my phone, searched for the recipe for cookies, and went to the convenience store to buy all I needed.

Having money sure was handy; I had no problem calculating the cost of it all, or just worrying about my next meal. Really, back in the days, my fridge was ice-cubes sole home, with nothing else in it; that was mostly because there were few jobs I could handle, and I dropped out of college around the second year since I was fed up. The cashier scanned some butter, eggs, or other things before I was back in my home fifteen minutes later. I warmed up the oven before doing anything.

I was an idiot; I couldn't understand the recipe, it lacked detail. Actually, it didn't but I always needed more detail, a precise line of action, or else I'd just put myself in some sort of vegetative state where I'd do anything automatically; that was how I lived back then. I scratched my head for half an hour, trying to understand what was ordered to me. Fortunately, my phone chimed in a notification.

"What's up?"

It was Hermione; this message alone created a great contrast with her old texts.

"nothing what about u?" I took a moment to reply to her, with that weird text uneasiness lurking around a corner of my mind.

"Dunno, bored I guess. Eda went to her piano lesson."

I took a moment to answer her, too much maybe when I saw:

"Leaving me on read? I already had enough of that, cut it off. Please."

That seemed like her being angry. I quickly replied then.

"been trying to bake cookies actually."

"And how's it going?"

"been trying… for like an hour but im too dumb to understand."

"What?! Even a kid could make some cookies."

"maybe im worse than a kid" "either way I still want cookies."

She left me on read first before replying way longer than before. Though, that might be an exaggeration since it didn't take less than a minute.

"Wanna have some of mines?"

It took me back once more; god, I loved her cookies so much. Even how bad it could have been for my health, if she could have made me some for every meal, I'd have gladly accepted.

"you baked some?"

"If you ask"

"PRETTY PLEASE!"

"Why r u so happy about that lol"

"would be very happy if you made some" I added, "could even go take them now"

"U got too much free time" "Come over then" "And bring what you already bought thx"

Seems like I had to see Hermione one more for the day. I turned off the oven and took a quick shower. I really had to buy some new clothes, the suit felt weird, but I ultimately decided to wear the simplest and plainest shirt in Ed's closet. Then, I went down to the parking lot, started the engine, remembered about the ingredients, went up, went down the stair, and headed to Hermione's place once again.

I was glad, honestly, I thought that I would be throwing away my day by doing nothing productive even though my end was nigh. Getting closer to Hermione wasn't exactly productive, but everyone thinks productive what's in his interest; mine was Hermione, I guessed. So after a ride through the streets, I ended, once more, before where she lived. I went up the stairs before arriving at her door and rang the bell. She opened, dressed as usual with a loose cardigan. Though, she was in very casual clothes, with a short almost reaching the very top of her thighs. She smiled at seeing me and let out an amused laugh while looking at the plastic bag filled with ingredients for cookies in my hand.

"Oh, Ed! You wanted to taste my cookies so badly?" she teased.

"Come on, forgive the dumbass I am. I'm just asking for some cookies."

"Yeah, yeah," she waved off as calming her laughter, "come in."

Then, she let me take a sit in her small living room, with the same table across which was scattered hundreds of childish, less childish, interesting, amazing drawings. Her TV was on a channel airing the news, with nothing more interesting than the world's miseries and tragedies, as well as seldom hopeful news, which really make them carry on. Hermione went to the kitchen and took out what was in the bag as rustling it; she came back then and gave me a glass of coffee.

"There was still some left from this morning."

"Thanks. What about the cookies though?" I joked.

"It's coming, alright? More complaints and I give up," she said in a half-serious tone.

"Please proceed."

She chuckled in her usual sweet tone and went back into the kitchen. I stayed in the living room and reviewed all Eda's drawings; she indeed was the daughter of her wonderful mother. When Hermione cooked or baked, she was dead silent; I guessed it was her own way of focusing and putting effort into something. The same goes when she was painting; I could have gazed at her to my heart's content, but she would only notice once as most. I got up from my seat and went to see her doing her things.

In the narrow kitchen, imbibed by morning rays of the sun passing through half-cleaned windows, she was stirring up some light brown dough in a rather large bowl, holding it underneath her left arm, with a wooden spoon in the other. She paid no attention to me at first, as I suspected. She carried on that for fifteen minutes, stirring up, molding the cookies, and putting them in the oven, as I rested my back on the door frame and watched silently. At last, when she closed the oven door and set on an alarm, she was startled as seeing me.

"Gosh don't do that again!"

"What?" I laughed a bit. "I just like seeing you all serious like that."

"Yeah, these are the best cookies on earth anyway," she said in an overconfident tone.

"According to whom?"

"Who? You know who," she replied. "Let's get back to the living room anyway; it won't be ready before another twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes before tasting heaven."

"Best cookies on earth, told you." She and I snickered together.

I rapidly sank in my seat and Hermione sat next to me; she put her head on my shoulder and sighed. It was as though we never departed, as though I had apologized the day after that awful day and we continued our lives as one. I found it odd, but I couldn't care more.

"It feels so nice to be hanging out like this," she mildly whispered.

"It feels so weird to be hanging out like this," I replied, but not really against it.

"Come on, don't say that. I know you love it as much as you love me," she giggled.

"Alright, I'll just enjoy it," I stopped a moment. "Nah, why are you so nice."

"I realized something, but can't tell you."

"Alright, I'll just enjoy it," I repeated.

We fell in the depth of this pleasant silence and enjoyed the warmness of each other. She placed her hand on mine and gazed at my eyes; she was intensely scrutinizing their profundity, continued, and at some point, I thought hers were glowing brighter but the emotions in it were quite complex too. She averted her eyes away, and returned resting on my shoulder. Another moment later, she remembered something as letting out a gasp; she excused herself because she said to have to dress up for going out for an errand, and let me alone in the living room.

The twenty minutes ended, and I could hear Hermione hurriedly dressing up in the kitchen as trying to take the cookies plate out of the oven. Another moment later, she was ready, only with pants on this time. She put a box full of what she baked on the table before me, took out a pen, and began to write something on one of Eda's drawings without scribbling on it. She stopped after writing the first letter, turned her back at me, and carried on her antics. Then, she folded the drawing and put it in the box.

"Here are your dear cookies," she amusedly said.

"Thank you very much. What about the paper anyway?"

"Now, promise me you won't unfold it until you've finished all the cookies, alright?"

"Why?"

"It will be a surprise. Well, it's been nice but I gotta go. See you tomorrow." she said as we were both at the doorstep.

"See you tomorrow. Can't wait to see you painting again."

She took a moment for giving me a fond grin, before closing the door's lock. Very rapidly, she vanished from my sight as running away in the corridors and stairs. By the time I was out, and I took my time, she was already nowhere to be seen. I went back to my car and returned to my apartment. On the way back, I had a sudden urge to drink some booze; I had the feeling that something had to be celebrated, no more escape. So I bought a bottle of whiskey from the convenience store and hurried home.

As soon as I parked my car, the sudden urge for booze became an inexplicable urge which drove me to hurry every single one of my movements. I climbed up the stairs like a mad man, opened my door as almost breaking my key, and threw the latter wherever was nearer. I opened the box full of cookies, put it next to me, did the same for the whiskey, and I lay like a dead man on my carpet. The ceiling was awfully white; it made me laugh for some reason. I ate a cookie; the world became brilliant after.

I was so happy to taste Hermione's cookies again, like she used to do. I literally craved for these, so much. I drank the bottle as I eat, drank 'til I was drunk, not only of alcohol, but of the sweetness of the cookies. And through all that, I peered at the ceiling, wondering about my near death or something like that; I lost myself in the drunkenness. The moonlight shone on my inebriated face as though eradiating lunar energy which very rapidly returned me to my senses. I sat up straight and the paper Hermione left me came back to my mind.

I unfolded it; the drawing in it was a well-made (for Eda's age) portrait of her mother. The choice of color made me laugh a little bit since the hairs were red; really red, not ginger, clearly red. I looked around the sheet of paper and noticed Hermione's note.

"Love makes them so much tastier, right?

—Hermione <3"