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

Part Thirty-Three: I took the blame.

August, 2016.

"I really don't want to see it, Jasper." I make sure his name rolls out of my tongue as roughly as I can. "Leave it alone."

He is practically harassing me, following me around the apartment whilst trying to shove his phone into my face, and albeit it doesn't take too much for me to get crossed lately, this is taking me to a whole new level of rage.

"Oh, come on! Just look at him." He whines, and this time, much to my disgrace, I can't move my eyes away fast enough.

He looks dirty and tired, and judging by his outfit, he is either at a very early Halloween party, or filming that movie he once told me about. And there is only one plausible option.

My mind races back to that night when he happily announced it to me; that he got the part I never even knew he was auditioning for. The prideful smile he was wearing on his face, the sparkle in his eyes.

That was the last night we were fine. No, not fine. Perfect. Happy and at ease, ready to say the ultimate words to each other. And so we did, up in my room, with my fingers between his freshly cut hair, which now seems to be shorter.

How unaware we were of the things that were waiting for us just around the corner. Blissfully blind to the monster hiding under our bed, holding its breath so we wouldn't know it was there, waiting for the perfect moment to come jumping out and eat us whole.

He looks good, though. Under that perfectly staged disarray; under the dry mud layering his face and the frown indented on his forehead. He looks... whole.

I don't know why my heart turns at that sight. Like I was expecting him to be a wreck, as he did the last time we were apart. Like I was wishing for it.

I'm a jerk, I know. But there's no point in denying my feelings.

I still don't know what came over me when I broke up with him. Yes, he was rude and hurtful, but I would be lying if I said that the real reason as to why I mentioned my dinner with Andy, wasn't to get a reaction from him.

But I wasn't expecting that. I just wanted to shake him up a bit, pull him out of the silent cage he was so locked into so he could pull me out of the cold.

I wanted him to be jealous, worried that he might lose me. But I didn't want him to think that he would, ever so easily.

Like I said. I'm a jerk. A jerk that all she's left with is a bullet wound caused by an epic backfire. And maybe a handful of sad songs in my name.

"Tell me you don't feel anything..." He challenges me when I finally manage to push his phone away. "Not one little thing."

I roll my eyes and walk into my room, making sure that the door gets slammed with a loud noise that would let him know my frustration.

Apparently, it doesn't. And if it did, he couldn't care any less.

"Aren't you exhausted, Lea?" He asks, falling on my bed and folding his arms behind his head.

I am standing in front of my dresser, so I can see him lying there, with his eyes fixated on me through the glass.

"Yes, I am. You're quite exhausting." I reply, and he huffs.

"I meant exhausted from being so adamant in pretending that you're over him." He doesn't move a muscle, aside of the ones required to articulate words, like he's just talking about which movie we should watch later. "Let me tell you, you're not fooling anyone. So you can rest... soldier."

The reference doesn't go over my head, but I guess that was the point, and I turn around quite dramatically.

I could throw something at him, hurt him a little bit. But I figure getting angrier would only prove him right.

Not that he isn't, obviously. But that doesn't mean I will give him the pleasure of actually admitting it to his face. Especially since he's being such a pain in my ass.

"Isn't Jack on his way here?" I divert, after taking a deep breath.

Jack is his new boyfriend, and since things are getting quite serious between them, he has been spending a few nights here. In fact, this would be the third night this week. And it's Wednesday.

You might think that, due to the foul mood I have been displaying lately, I would resent the idea of sharing the apartment with a new, giggly, everything is so perfect because we just met each other and we are blind to the monsters couple, but I just don't.

In fact, I quite enjoy it.

Not just because - despite the thick layers of resentment I am living under at the moment - I am truly happy for Jasper, and I actually quite like Jack.

But mostly because the former seems to be really restricted about annoying me whenever the latter is around.

And whether is because he is too preoccupied being all cuddly, or simply embarrassed of being such a lousy friend in front of him, I take my victories wherever I can find them.

"Don't change the subject." He smirks condescendingly, and he takes out his arm from behind his head to check out his watch. "He won't be here until... Shit!"

I do nothing to suffocate the chuckle that comes with the satisfaction of him being all worked up, all of a sudden.

He bounces off of my bed, waving at me like he's dismissing me, and runs across the hallway into his room.

The rest of the house, thanks to me and my restlessness during my idle time - which is now pretty much the entire day since it's summer, and I've only managed to get myself a part time job so far - is squeaky clean and tided up to the point of obsession.

But his room is a whole other story.

Jack is a very neat, clean and organized guy. Jasper, not so much. And the funny thing is that every day, he rushes to leave his room in a surprisingly pristine way for when Jack is coming; but then, is like a nuclear bomb explodes the second he leaves.

I honestly don't know how he does it, but as long as the rest of the house remains unharmed, I don't really mind at all.

"I totally lost track of time!" He yells, and I can see him running around his room, picking up things and throwing them in the closet. "Give me a hand, would you?"

I lean against the threshold of his door, folding my arms across my chest and shaking my head while clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth.

"I very much rather watching you work up a sweat, thanks."

He looks at me probably as vexed as I look at him whenever he would pester me over Harry, and I ignore him exactly like he does.

By the time the doorbell announces Jack's arrival, Jasper is practically panting but the room is in perfect conditions.

I open the door and I greet him with a kiss and a very prolonged hug, which he receives warmly, but also confused.

He doesn't know that he's my buffer. He has no clue that his boyfriend's physical integrity relies on him, and him alone.