The coffee has extra cream shot—exactly how I love my stuff. My heart jumps aflutter at the thought of Liam knowing my taste well. Could it be that he's taken deliberate to learn of it through our short dining experiences?

Dream on, Kira. It costs absolutely nothing to have a lovely dream. I laugh at myself inwardly.

Liam's laptop is on the countertop with the Skype window open on the screen. He was probably video chatting with someone before I arrived. I resume my attention back to him as he finally hands me the coffee mug.

"Thank you." I feel giddy as I slowly start sipping it. Hmm, it's exquisite. Mr. Intense does know how to please a lady.

"Shouldn't you be resting by now?" Liam breaks the silence, taking the same stance as mine so we are facing one another. "Or is it your insomnia again?" His voice comes out out carefully.

A soft, rueful sigh escapes my lips. Sleeping matter is quite a subject that I never wish to pursue.

"I can ask you the same thing if I may," I reply with a small smile, and he does exactly the same while taking a little sip of his coffee. "I'm just saying. Perhaps my answer will depend on your reasons, after all," I provoke him, fully aware of the danger.

Liam shifts his stance, and gets closer in the process. Holy cow! It's hard being skin-to-skin with him. I hold my heart tightly.

"Are you blackmailing me now, Ms. Jones?" Liam sounds amused, his voice gentle and relaxed.

I like this side of him.

"Oh no! How would I dare do such a thing to you? I simply want to have an exchange of facts—quid pro quo." I chuckle innocently.

Liam giggles boyishly.

"Oh, do you?" Enthralled, his one eyebrow creases. "You're quite a bad negotiator. Do you actually think I'd fall for your trick, Ms. Jones?'' His smile assures me of his playfulness, and my cheeks heat up. He takes the cup to his mouth once again, eyes stuck on me, mesmerizing me.

God, why can't I be that mug? The devil in me awakes from her beauty slumber, eyes wide open, gawking at the fine muscles of Liam's arm. I wonder if he lifts weights.

Well, he surely does, dummy! Or else how would he build that body you so want to touch? By reading books in the library? My subconscious recoils.

"Um, yes? I mean, can't you at least pretend to fall for it?" I quizzically arch my brows, ignoring the profanity in my mind.

A short silence prevails as Liam watches me mindfully, and only opens his mouth after placing the mug on the cabinet. "Well, I'm going to be generous with you," he says with gallant, and I stupidly move closer so that we stand levelly.

He chuckles gently, and I bite my bottom lip in a similar fashion.

"Okay then . . . tell me why are you always awake at night?" I ask, my desire to know him bigger than before. "The truth is, I've been so curious about this; there is not a single day that I found you asleep in times I couldn't sleep myself. It makes me wonder why."

Sometimes I look at him, and it's like there's a broken part inside of him that really calls for my curiosity. I should probably stop playing the psychic.

Staring at me with a faint smile—almost sad—Liam takes a deep sigh. "I'm still adjusting to the time zone, I guess," he says calmly. I don't think I'm buying it, and he discerns it right away. Hence he explains, "I've been travelling a lot, so now that I've decided to rest a bit I find it difficult to adjust with time and schedules. Sometimes I need to wake up at night to make international calls and things like that."

"Is that so?"

"Yes." He nods affirmatively. ''Is this worthy enough to have an exchange?"

"Um . . . I guess." I shrug, my lips stretched into a soft smile.

"You guess?" Liam laughs loudly, and I could pluck a star just to hear this splendid melody over and over again.

He's a marvel when he laughs.

"Yeah, and maybe I'm going to be generous as well." I surely hope this moment never ends. It's as if I can talk to him the whole evening if I could.

"Okay, tell me," he urges while clutching his abandoned cup of coffee.

"My reason is simple," I start with a melancholic sigh, my eyes on the scribbled letters engraved on the mug. 'HOME' is what's written in bold red. "I can't get a good sleep at night . . . I just can't, and it's been that way for so long. I'm used to it, I think. Sometimes it gets severe that I have to resort to sleeping pills, but otherwise it's a part of my life and I've come to terms with it." I lift my eyes up at him.

Liam looks at me blankly with his luminous eyes. As always, I can't tell what he's thinking at all. But to my surprise he only tells me, "I understand."

"You do?" My eyes widen, my voice husky.

"Yes, I do." He smiles tenderly, and without another word he drinks his coffee.

Damn, this man! It's as if he understands me more than he should, and I strangely don't mind at all. I take a deep breath as Liam's gaze heads forward, facing the window in front of us.

"Don't you think drinking coffee is a bad idea, though?" I ask after a pause of easy silence. I only want to keep hearing his voice.

"I know it is," Liam replies coolly, "but I can't help it." He glances at me, and we both chuckle.

We stay wordless, watching nothing but the darkness in the backyard through the window. It's so peaceful, and subconsciously this nothingness of the moment is probably the reprieve I need.

"Have you spoken to your mother?" I break the silence once again, glancing up at Liam.

"I did a while ago," he answers. "She sends her regards."

"I really miss her. When is she coming back?"

"In two days, I suppose."

"I see," I mutter casually, followed by another sip of my coffee. "And . . . Malik? Will he be back soon?" I think I'm missing him already.

Liam's eyes darken slightly at the question. Wait, did I say something wrong? I blink, unsure of his sudden shift of demeanor.

"I don't know," regardless, Liam answers crisply, and I squint my eyes. "Didn't he tell you about that?" he asks without looking at me, which is quite a drastic turn. I even detect sarcasm in his tone of voice. Oh boy.

"No, he didn't," I reply carefully.

Sighing, Liam finally looks at me. "I thought you two became close enough to tell each other such details—was I wrong?" His question leaves me speechless.

Why does he sound like my husband accusing me of adultery?

"Yes, and no, at least we haven't reached that part yet," I say. "Does it bother you?

Dang it! I'm really searching for trouble.

"You should go back to your room, it's getting late," Liam tells me casually, ignoring my query.

I hate when he does this.

"What? But I'm not finished with my coffee yet and—''

"Then do it when you're done. Goodnight, Ms. Jones," he practically snaps at me before putting his mug in the sink. Turning around, he grabs his laptop, and leaves toward the door without eyeing back.

What the heck! I can't believe he's so childish. Or could it be that he's jealous of his best friend? An apprehension makes me frantic, delirious even, of the possible reason behind his reaction.

"Are you jealous?" I shout enough for him to hear, and he halts by the door.

What have I done?

Swallowing hard, I watch Liam taking his steps back gaily, and finally standing before me. Oh God! The masquerade on his face refuses to let go of whatever's on his mind, and I'm dying to hear something . . . anything.

"You're something else," he breathes, shaking his head to the sides. And then he starts laughing as though there's something funny on my face.

"Why are you laughing?" My grip is tight around the mug, prelibation filled in my eyes.

"You're clumsy," he says while getting even closer, eyes fixed intensely on mine. He's menacing, deliberately playing with the pace of my heartbeat. "Pretty and clumsy, Ms. Jones. What a perilous combination, huh?"

Oh God! I need to move but I can't.

"P-pretty? How—'' I pause when he leans towards my face, making my breath slow its pace as he holds my face.

What is he doing? I gulp.

Liam keeps his mouth shut for a good while, amusement flashing through his smile as he holds his gaze firmly on my lips.

"No, you're like a baby," he suddenly whispers, and his thumb reaches the corner of my mouth, gently, his lips so near mine. Damn! "You've got cream on your lips; only kids do this." His voice is torturous, his gaze ardent.

I breathe erratically, feeling his thumb wiping my mouth. His lips . . . Oh, his lips drive me nuts. Do I want to kiss him? I think I do. Is it okay, though? It's certainly not.

"I . . . I didn't notice," I say softly, my blood thrumming vehemently at the sudden shift of my body temperature.

Am I getting hot?

"And yet you can notice that I'm jealous?" Liam mocks—both his eyes and voice do. He gently, provokingly, licks his thumb that's smeared with cream from my lips.

Jesus! My mind imagines nothing but sultriness as he does it.

"Well, you . . . you just lashed at me without any reason.'' I can feel the quiver of my lips, trembling in a strange design.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

"I did?" Liam smiles, and it's wild. "Yes, I am jealous. It makes me mad when you smile too bright at another man," he says.

Oh God, I need urgent help! Somebody please call 911.

"Huh?" I gulp, wide-eyed, and he laughs delightedly.

What the heck?

"Is that what you wanted to hear, Ms. Jones?" he mocks me again, looking amused by the reaction I give.

Damn it! He wasn't serious? I'm probably curling my lips into a pout.

"Make sure you sleep early tonight. You look tired," he states seriously, and I nod like a docile kid. "Goodnight, Ms. Jones." He breezes through the door, leaving me all puzzled.

Is he playing with me? Testing me? Why is he doing this? I huff, completely in defeat. Why is it exciting, too, despite the odds? I laugh stupidly.

However, when Dr. Snape's last words repeat in my head I quickly wipe off my laughter.

What is it that you're feeling for him, Kira?

"I don't know, and I don't care!" I blurt out, a sudden panic engulfing me. Why should I beat myself up over this, huh? No, I'd rather go in my room and sleep.

It's exactly what I do after finishing the coffee.

An annoying vibration wakes me up some time later. It's my damn phone. It's still dark as I pitch a glance through the window. I grab the phone from the bedside table without a bother to move myself from the warm covers.

Calling at night should be illegal! I growl inside as I struggle to keep myself awake. My eyes squint at the light beaming on the screen. Ugh! I lazily pick up the call from whomever.

"Hello?" My face wrinkle at this act of utter disturbance.

"Good morning, little professor," a male voice utters merrily.

Wait! I know this voice. I sit up immediately.

"Um . . ." My eyes flash open as I peek at the screen.

It's a foreign number and I can bet a hundred bucks that it's Malik.

"Hey, Kira, are you there?" he asks, and it confirms my guess.

"Malik? How did you—''

"Get your number?" Malik finishes for me. "Hey, Professor, have you forgotten that you personally gave it to me?" He is laughing.

Did I? I consult my memory box.

"When? I don't remember doing such a thing, Malik!" I shift into a more comfortable posture, my back onto the pair of pillows.

He's obviously playing tricks with my memory, which thus far has been serving me fairly well.

"At the wedding. You don't remember?" he asks, and I try my best to recall. "Professor, maybe you should stop drinking for good now."

"No?'' Honestly I don't remember, and it's quite rare for me to black out my memory, if never at all.

"Oh, Professor!" Malik laughs even more, and I nearly roll my eyes.

"Alright, let's say I did. Now what do you want, Malik? I guess you understand what time it is, and how important sleeping is, at least for a normal human." I rub my eyes, yawning.

"Well, yeah, and forgive me for this little disturbance," Malik says softly. "I can't reach Liam and I'd very much appreciate it if you'd tell him to immediately check his emails, if possible," he urges and for a moment I grasp a hint of seriousness in the tone of his voice.

"Who, me?" I feel alarmed.

"Yes, Professor. You're the only one who can help."

"Right now?"

"Yes, right now," he says. "Can you do it, please? It's very important. He usually leaves his phone on, but I wonder what happened today."

What's so important that can't wait till morning?

I sigh heavily and answer, "Okay, let me go and check him." Like seriously, why do I have to meet him in the middle of the night? I just sigh.