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

Part Twenty-One: I'm in love with you.

He looks so cute, like a kid. His eyes scanning his reflection with the perplexity of someone seeing his face for the very first time.

He keeps turning his face to both sides, studying himself from every single angle, sometimes smiling at what he sees, and some other times sighing nostalgically.

After my father made the cut and got rid of the mane, my mother was kind enough to style it as best as she could, and I have to say, she did a pretty good job.

She slightly shaved the sides and did a few nips at the top, so it almost looks like a semi professional haircut. Almost being the key word.

"I can't believe you did that, though." I say, walking towards him and hugging him from behind as I look at him in the glass. "I mean, I know you had to sooner or later, but still. I think it was pretty romantic."

I run my fingers through his now short hair, and the feeling is quite strange but nice. My lips touch the soft skin where his earlobe ends, noticing for the first time that it's attached to the side of his head, which is a rather strange genetic trait, and he trembles a little.

He smiles and slowly turns around, looking around the room for a few seconds and then at me.

"I love you."

He says it just like that, like it is nothing but a mere reflex brought upon seeing my face. No thinking, no beating around the bushes; straightforward and spontaneous. And, if you ask me, that is the best way you can ever say it.

"I love you, too." I respond in the same manner, and it feels so right, I hate the fact that we haven't said it sooner.

But I guess there's a reason as to why we haven't, even if I can't see it now. Maybe we were just afraid to burst the bubble we have been living in for the last couple of weeks, maybe we were scared there might not be anything outside of it.

Whatever the reasons were, it doesn't matter now. Because this, exactly as it is happening, is absolutely perfect.

Harry Styles, the boy I used to admire and drool over as a kid, the man that was not afraid to swallow his wounded pride or pick up the pieces of a heart I broke just to wipe the slate clean, the love of my life, is here, in the very same bedroom where I used to build fantasies about us being together just like we are now. Happy and in love.

The bubble has finally burst and there is so much more outside of it; and it's not scary. Not anymore.

We kiss and it feels like the first time, if not better. This is our fist kiss with both of our hearts fully and irreversibly open. This is the kiss that seals the deal.

"God, you look really good." I say, barely catching my breath, as my hands  touch his hair again.

Somewhere during our kiss, we found our way to my bed and we are both lying there, tangled with each other.

My eyes can't leave his face and how perfect it is, even without his signature curls framing it.

"You think so? I feel so weird!" He pouts, and that boyish appearance seems to accentuate even more. "I haven't had such short hair for years now."

"Well, I think you're pulling it off quite nicely." I assure him, giving him a quick peck on the lips before snuggling closer to him.

He sighs and tightens his grip on me, putting his mouth against my hair.

"Either way, it was totally worth it." He says. "I'm in your bedroom!"