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11 Jaw

when did you decide to stop caring?

Josephine silently walked the hallway of Harry's apartment, following him as he made his way through the corridor. Niall was too tired to drive her to her own apartment and Harry reluctantly agreed to have company over.

When they passed the kitchen, she reached out for him gently, taking notice in the stress lines that seemed to be creased to his forehead every time he turned his head. "Harry, I want you to talk to me."

He shook her away silently, keeping his hands in his pockets as he continued his walk.

She pushed against him a bit harder, bringing him back again. She was sure she moved him, but then his hand came back to clasp around her wrist, his body pushing her back forcefully. He pushed her against the wall harshly, the impact knocking the air from her lungs for just a moment as her eyes went wide. "We always end up here," he breathed aloud, hand still locked around her wrist as he kept his eyes down toward the floor. "You want me to tell you what I'm thinking? I think I feel like shit and if you keep pushing me, tonight will be hard for the both of us. I don't think I'm bluffing, and I definitely think I don't want to talk right now so-"

"If you think you're scaring me, you're wrong."

"If I wanted to scare you," he moved closer, his hot breath ventilating over her already heated cheeks. "You'd have been scared by now."

She was thankful he couldn't see how flushed she looked. She shook his hand away and shoved him back. "If you want a fight, let's go."

He laughed a little and turned away from her.

Jo pulled him back into her and used most of her strength to push him against the opposite wall, watching as he smiled at the floor before lifting his head and using the palm of one of his bleeding hands to push his hair back. "Don't be a coward," she spat. "I said if you wanted a fight, let's go."

"I'm not fighting you, darling." He lifted himself from the wall and she pushed him back. "Don't start with me, Josephine."

"Don't call me that," is what went past her lips. He knew how much she hated that name, could tell he did it purposefully. She reached for him again but he caught her once again with more of a grip than last time.

He pushed her further back in the narrow hall, her back hitting the bricks with no space to move. Then he locked her hands at her sides and leaned over near her ear. "Push me one more time," he seethed through his teeth.

She pretended not to feel the change of her breathing pattern as her chest rose and fell against his quickly. "Talk to me and I won't try it again."

"I'm done with all the alternatives tonight," he dropped his head into the crook of her neck, his breathing slowing a considerable amount. She tried to free her hands but to no avail, the weight of his keeping them against the wall.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't want to talk about it," he let out on an exhale of his breath, pulling away slowly and cautiously. She wondered how he'd react if she decided to lock him in place. It seemed highly unlikely since he went to the gym more times than she ever had.

She caught his eyes and noticed how soft the color was. It was lighter than before; like a powder, tinted green. She let out a sound between a gasp and a wheeze and he turned a bit.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine." She couldn't help the burst of confusion that came with his lips attaching to hers. Couldn't help the fluttering in her stomach as he finally released her only to nudge her toward the bedroom.