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

Part Thirty-Six: I'd forever be still.

It takes me a few seconds to recover from the blow. All the while, the weight of his expectancy for my answer settles in my shoulders.

The fact that he has to ask me that question says a lot about what we've become. But then again, so did the fact that he assumed I was going to do it all those nights ago when we fought over the phone.

And it didn't help much that I actually told him I was going to do it.

This is us now, I suppose. Trapped in an endless mind game, pulling and pushing to see how far the other one will go, or who will break first.

"Honestly?" I finally speak, wrapping my arms around me, not in a defiant way but more to provide myself with a shield. "What's the difference at this point?"

His face goes blank for half a second before it gets contorted in a grimace of sheer disbelief.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" He talks sibilant and through tightly gritted teeth, causing the muscles on his jaw to move visibly under the skin.

"I could say the same to you." I slap back. "But yes, I am seriously asking you that. Whether I slept with Andy or not, which I didn't by the way..." I let it slide casually, barely making a pause to assess his relieved reaction that manages to pain me more than I would have anticipated it. "That doesn't change things, does it? I mean, not really."

He is so confused, he is literally scratching his head as I speak.

"Of course it does, Lea." He hisses. "It changes things rather drastically."

I laugh but we both know it's out of pure sadness and mental exhaustion. My arms unfold, breaking that shield, and I let myself fall against the wall, leaning my entire weight on it.

"Not to me. It doesn't change the fact that you jumped to that conclusion in the first place, it doesn't change the fact that I used it as a weapon to get back at you. It doesn't change the fact that, to the very core, our relationship is weakened. If not shattered."

I really don't know where those words just came from, but I have never felt so sure about anything else before. It hurts like nothing else, but still.

In the silence that comes after my speech, is as if it keeps resonating and echoing against the walls, ringing in my ears and flooding my brain.

And by the looks of him, he's experiencing the same phenomenon. Probably trying to find the words that would refute mine.

"We've made a mess, I know that." He nods, driving both hands to rub his face all the way up to his hair and the back of his neck. "We shouldn't have said those things to each other, but we're here now. We can finally talk it over."

I stare at him and it is imposible not to waver at the sight displayed before me; the way his green eyes cast down on me with such pleading in them, the way his lips try to curl into an inviting smile but barely managing to become a strange line.

He seems so broken down, it's as if his body has been drained from all that natural, effortless confidence he always exudes.

"That's all we seem to be, Harry. An endless string of shouldn't have." I finally cave in to my weak knees and go to sit at the edge of his bed. I still feel the urge to run, but I know this conversation needs to happen. "I shouldn't have disappeared on you, I shouldn't have kept things from you, you shouldn't have treated me like a proper little thankful girl..."

I draw air quotes with my fingers so he knows that I recall every single word of that sentence, and he closes his eyes with a long sigh, letting me know how ashamed he is for ever saying that to me.

And is not like I don't appreciate the sentiment of regret, but it doesn't help much when I remember those words in his voice.

"And I shouldn't have made you believe that I was." I finish.

He opens his eyes again, but he doesn't look at me.

"We are so much more than that." He speaks so softly, I reckon he is talking to himself rather than to me. "So much more."

I can't ignore that, of course. We have had amazing moments together. We laughed and had great chemistry. Our bodies always perfectly fitted for one another, just like our hearts and minds.

But it always took just a second, just a moment or a word to set us off like a ticking bomb. And whenever that happened, the aftermath was devastating.

"It's not enough, Harry. Not anymore. And the last thing that I want is for us to end up hating each other. So consumed by the bad moments, it will tear us apart in the worst possible way." He is still avoiding my eyes, but I am looking straight at his face. "I don't want that. But I don't see us going down any other road at this point."

"Maybe we need to grow up a little more. Maybe we need to figure our shit out." He says, and he comes to sit right next to me, placing his hands on his knees. "But you and I, Lea, we are endgame. That much I know for sure, because I don't see myself with anyone else but you. And I know you don't either."

I smile tiredly, nodding my head to agree with him. Because after all has been said and done, it is utterly impossible for me to grasp the notion of finding love in any other arms but his.

"A year." I whisper, and his eyes finally land on mine.

"What?" He asks, frowning in a weird mixture of confusion and hopefulness.

"We'll live our lives, go wherever life takes us, enjoy it and try to learn in the process." My body shifts to the side and he does the same, so we are now facing each other. "Today, one year from now, whatever happens in the middle, we'll meet again. And we'll take it from the there."

His lips tug upwards in a smile that, for the first time in a really long time, translates into his eyes and ignites a feeble yet obvious light in them.

"The rooftop, Christmas Eve?" He beams. All the confusion has been definitely erased from his face letting the hope all alone in it, and I find it really hard not to smile. So I don't.

"It's a date." I say, standing up to leave but his hand wraps around my wrist and pulls me back down. "What?" I chuckle a little.

"Come to the party tomorrow." He doesn't ask with his voice but he does it with his eyes. "One more night without fighting. Just you and me."

I breathe deeply and I bite the inside of my cheek, considering his proposition.

"I've seen the food. It won't be just you and me, Harry." I respond. "Besides, it's Christmas and I'll spend it at home with my parents."

He pouts deliberately. Suddenly, his out of this world confidence has returned. And it is hard not to fall for it.

"Come on. Just one more time. For the road."