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

Part Twelve: And it's been a while...

"Searching for the nearest way out?"

He has been in my apartment for almost five minutes now, and all he has done so far is pacing around, studying the place with a vacant expression in his eyes; which by the way, never landed on me once.

I don't know why I just said that. I guess it was a lame attempt to lighten the mood, but he quickly shuts me down:

"That's something you would do. Not me."

I nervously run my fingers through my hair, pushing it behind my ears. Although he still hasn't made eye contact, I force a carefree smile on my face, pretending that didn't sting.

"Touché"

Another couple of minutes go by; this time, having learned my lesson, I choose to keep my mouth shut and just wait.

Is not easy, though. My head is bursting with all the things I want to say to him; and it's starting to hurt right behind my eyes.

"I'm not here to get you back." He spits, all of a sudden, and in contrast with the silence that was so far, his voice rings in my ears as if he had shouted those words.

"I never thought you were."

I can feel my heart sinking a little. Is not like I was expecting for him to show up ready to forgive and forget; but the fact that he just said it, loud and clear, makes me realize I was, deep down, hoping that he did.

"Good."

It is really hard to recognize him. To see the Harry I once met and fell in love with under this thick, hardened layer of resentment he seems to be wearing.

I keep telling myself that this is nothing but the obvious result of what I did to him; my bloody masterpiece, my fault. So I just have to take it like a champion, and then move on.

Yes, I keep telling myself just that. But that doesn't mean that it's working.

"I guess you came for an apology, or an explanation." I finally speak up, casually moving closer to where he is. "Or to punish me."

I'm close enough now to notice how he freezes for a second, witnessing the way  the muscles of his shoulders and the tendons of his neck tighten for just a moment before they relax again.

From where I stand, I can barely see his face from the side and most of it is hidden behind his untied curls. I don't see his expression but I can picture it.

"I thought about it; punishing you. But I don't believe is going to work. At least not in the long term."

I release a sigh of relief, and my headache seems to dim out a little. My hands are now up in the air, stretching out towards him and before I know it, they are sliding around his waist.

Again, he turns to stone, but this time he doesn't relax in the slightest. I feel him shiver inside my arms and though I know this is absolutely unwise, touching him feels way to good to let go.

"I'm sorry." I whisper, standing on my toes so my lips almost touch his ear. "I'm truly, roundly sorry."

My grip grows tighter with each breath he takes in and out, like they are meant to break away from me. But he doesn't move beyond that. He just stays there still and quiet.

After a while he moves. His hands falling onto mine, which are linked together in front of him.

At first he just touches them; maybe even caress them with his thumbs although that could easily be my imagination. But then he grabs them and tugs them untangled.

"For what exactly are you sorry?" He spins around as soon as my arms release him; looking straight into my eyes for the first time since he walked in. I frown, confused and almost blinded. "For vanishing like you did? For never even trying to reach out? Or for treating me like a nobody the other night?"

I wish he'd never laid eyes on me now. I wish I didn't have to see what I'm seeing right now, or feel the guilt that's punching a hole in my guts.

"All of the above." I say, with a sad smile pulling at the corners of my lips. "I'm sorry for everything. I messed up so badly that I know it's probably useless, but I am sorry."

My voice is a feeble sound, strained by the angst that has settled like a rock in my throat. I know he heard me because that is how close we are now, but he stares at me without even flinching.

"Shit, Lea!" He shouts, jumping backwards. "We had a deal! There were rules, remember? We were supposed to make it work, to talk to each other... Why didn't you talk to me? Why did you shut me out? I would have been there for you! That was my job!"

"I know you would have, Harry." I tell him, taking a step forward but stopping in my tracks when beckons me to do so. "And I should have let you in, I know that now. But I was a mess, I was too broken to see past what was happening to me, to see beyond the ruins of my life. I had lost everything I worked for since I could remember, and I just needed to disappear."

Everything comes back to me; the hopelessness of those days, the void that swallowed me whole and made me loose my mind.

There's this pain in my chest now and my eyes sting with hot tears. I don't want to cry, I don't want him to think that I'm looking for his sympathy. But it's impossible to fight it.

So I break.

"Don't do this to me." He practically begs as I sob. "Please, stop."

I look up at him and he seems distressed; his arms crossed against his chest and his eyes shifting across the room as if he were looking for something. Or better said, as if he could not bare to see me.

"Look..." I say, violently wiping the tears away. "You said you weren't here to get me back and I've already apologized to you." My tone is a weird mix of sadness and a little rage. "If that wasn't enough for you I'm sorry for that too, but it is all I can do. So I think we are done here."

I'm not quite sure where all of that came from but it doesn't make it any less true. The fact is that I have already offered my apologies as sincerely as I could, and whether he accepts them or not is utterly out of my control.

"I... well... that's..." He stutters, visibly thrown off by my sudden mood change. "You're right... I did say that."

I nod and I walk over to the front door, rushing past him.

"I really hope you can forgive me someday." I say, opening the door and waiting for him to get out. "Until then, have a good life."

He makes his way hesitantly, looking at me and frowning as if he was measuring me and trying to figure me out.

"You're seriously kicking me out?" He asks when he gets to the door.

"I'm not kicking you out, Harry." I respond, sniffing the water running from my nose. "I'm letting you go."

"Have I ever said I wanted you to do that?"

With a swift movement he slams the door shut with one hand, placing the other on my hip.

I'm too confused by this and my heart starts to pound so rapidly, I can hear its beats thumping in my ear and pulsating on my temples.

"You said you didn't want to..." I start to say, but his fingers dig in my flesh hard enough to shut me up.

"I know what I said, Lea." He leans closer to me and his breath tickles on my nose. "The thing is, when it comes to you, it's not about what I want anymore, so much as what I need."