Whatever Chains (Sequel to Where Your Heart is - A Harry Styles fanfiction)

Part Nineteen: Those three words have two meanings.

This weird, long gasp escapes my throat as I cover my mouth; probably trying to keep my jaw from dropping all the way down to the floor.

Did he really just say that? I look over to my mum, and judging by the fact that her eyes seem to be seconds away from popping out of their sockets, I have no choice but to give credit to my own ears.

My dad looks, much to my disappointment but little to my surprise, absolutely euphoric. His pupils are practically sparkling at the sole possibility of cutting Harry's hair; which inevitably leads me to believe that he wasn't all that outraged by the thought of him sleeping in my bed after all.

And Harry, well, he looks so full of himself right now, I could smack him in the face if only I could figure out whether this is the stupidest thing I have ever heard or the most romantic gesture he could ever have had.

He loves his hair. Sometimes a little too much, if you ask me. So for him to even suggest getting rid of it just so he could stay with me tonight is, regardless the fact that I don't support it, quite flattering.

"Harry..." I come out of my haze just when they are about to shake on it. "A word... alone."

I step forward and grab him by the arm, digging my fingertips on his flesh deep enough to let my urgency clearly known, and he lets me drag him out of the room.

"What is it?" He asks me, ever so unruffled, like he has no clue as to what I could possibly have to say to him so privately.

"Are you serious!? Cutting off your hair? That's bloody mental, Harry!"

In a failed attempt not to raise my voice it comes out like a shrill, high pitch noise that would make a dog want to chew its ears right off, and it is making me sound like a crazy person.

Harry is looking at me like he's about to pop a vein from fighting off the laughter, and I slap his arm a little rougher than I intended.

"Ouch! What's the problem?" He rubs his arm, giggling. "I just made him an offer he couldn't refuse. Besides, this way, whatever the outcome is, I get to stay here tonight. We win either way."

"Excuse me? Did my mother fed you an Italian mobster or something? What's next? Is my dad going to wake up to a severed horse head lying nexy to him in the morning?"

Another fit of laughter comes crashing down on him; this time he doesn't even bother to conceal it in the slightest, but he does step away from my reach, just in case.

"Not a severed horse head. Maybe my hair, though." He responds. "If he wins he'll probably sleep with it like it's a war medal."

Something is just not adding up. He seems way to chilled at the possibility that he might lose his precious locks; and that is not quite normal. Either he's a Trivial Pursuit prodigy, or there's a piece of information that I don't have.

"Harry... what's going on?" I ask him, folding my arms in front of me.

He rolls his eyes at me, mirroring my stance, and then he sighs.

"Okay, so..." He begins to talk. "Remember that thing I couldn't talk to you about?"

"Vaguely." I shrug, deceivingly uninterested. "What about it?"