The man’s fingers hooked around the edges of Harry’s hoodie and t-shirt, pulling the fabric up. He shuddered but couldn’t disobey, the cold air on his body startling him. Harry wrapped his arms pathetically around himself, feeling helpless and vulnerable even though this was only the beginning. Couldn’t they have done it quicker? Maybe he should have drunk the whole bottle so he wouldn’t have been able to form a string of words together. So far, the intoxication was only troubling his movements, but his thoughts weren’t cluttered with ridiculous ideas. Harry stepped forward, touched the bed with his knees, and sat down carefully.