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

Part Nine: And now I'm one step closer...

It took everything in me not to jump out of my seat and up the stage.

Every inch of my skin itched with the urge to look straight into her eyes, and touch her with my very own hands to convince myself it was actually her standing there; so close to me, sharing the same breathing space after all this time.

Every emotion you can think of, I experienced it to the fullest.

Shock, anxiety, fear, release, joy, despair. You name it, I felt it. All at once and in full force, swirling within me and rioting against my sanity.

I was restless to say the least, and more than twice Louis had to just punch me fiercely on the thigh so I would stop stirring on my chair.

"I need some air." I told him when the show, which to me seemed to last an eternity, was finally over and the lights when on again.

I did't want to leave. I didn't want to lose her out of my sight ever again; but if I didn't step outside and let some air into my lungs I was going to faint.

I excused myself to Louis's family, and politely smiling but declining taking pictures with a few girls who approached me, I stepped outside and just stood there.

I thought about what I saw, about her looking so content and focused. I though about the way she smiled happily when she went back to the stage after the kids finished their dancing, and the entire room was filled with the clapping and cheering of all the oh so proud parents.

And then something happened. Something that, as I walk slowly behind her, I never even noticed creeping in until it was there, occupying my whole mind and screaming loudly.

Every single emotion I had coursing through me, is like they suddenly decided to merge into one powerful feeling.

I'm angry. Furious, actually.

"Hello, Miss Lea." The contempt in my voice is as unmistakable as it was unexpected, and it leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

She stops dead in her tracks, and I can see how her arms twist around her as she judders so visibly. And it makes my backbone follow suit.

I can feel my blood run cold as I wait for her to turn around; the anticipation of it building up inside of me and driving me closer to the edge.

But she doesn't move, at least not the way I was expecting her to. Instead, she just resumes her walking.

It takes me a few seconds to react, and I start moving forward, taking long strides to catch up with her just enough to stay a few steps behind her.

"Walking away, uh?" I say when I know she will be able to hear me clearly. "Why am I not surprised?"

Again, the words come out spiteful and cold, but I don't even make the attempt to rephrase or soften them up.

It's like all these months, all these days and hours of missing her, of wondering where she was or how she was doing, I have spent them missing and worrying about a girl who was happily living a new life.

And as much as I know I should be glad she's not as messed up as I am; I'm kind of hurt that she's not.

"Just leave me alone, Harry." She says without even stopping, and barely turning her head around for me to hear her. "Please..."