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

March, 2016.

Almost three weeks have passed since he came to my apartment to talk, yet if feels like ages.

The first week was all about rediscovering each other, mind body and soul. And although we quickly realized we never actually forgot even the smallest of details, we kept going all the same.

It was so surreal, being together after all those months, we could barely keep our eyes off of one another. Let alone our hands.

We were all energy and eagerness to make up for the lost time; always tangled together whenever we had the chance.

By the time the second week rolled in, as if we were finally convinced this was not a dream we would soon be slapped right out off, we managed to restrain our urges long enough to have actual conversations.

And we talked. Sometimes for hours, until our mouths were dry and every word was exhausted. We laughed really hard, and we cried too.

Nothing was left unsaid, and by now everything flows effortlessly and perfectly oiled, as if the last seven months we were apart never really came to pass.

"I was thinking..." I say, from behind the brim of my coffee mug, as he sits in front of me on the kitchen table reading something on his phone. "Maybe you could pick me up at work today... we could do something outside this flat for a change."

He's now tipping rather fast, holding the phone close to his face. I don't think he heard me speaking so I open my mouth to repeat myself.

"Yeah... sure." He replies before I get the chance to speak again, but he keeps staring at the screen.

"Cool." I continue, putting down my cup and standing up from the chair to walk around the table. "I was thinking maybe we could grab some lunch..."

I'm getting closer and he doesn't even seem to notice; which makes me laugh a little but also makes feel somewhat annoyed.

"I though we could invite Beth along. She has been dying to meet you, and properly apologize to you for going all vigilante in you that night..."

"Sounds nice."

I'm close enough to see that he's texting someone, but not as close as to read exactly what he's writing or whom is he writing to.

"And after that... we could just get married."

It is hilarious, to say the least, watching him drop the phone on the table as he turns around like a whip to face me. His eyes are as big as plates, almost threatening to jump out of his skull, and his lips are opened in a silent scream.

"What!?" He squeals, jolting out of his chair as it squeaks against the tile floor.

I crack up with a mischievous cackle and I lift my hands.

"Oh! So you are listening to me." I mock him, trying not to laugh so hard at him.

He lets out a fake chuckle, which I can tell is out of relief as well, snaking his arms around me and roughly pulling me against his hips. His shocked expression is now twisting into a playful one, and his grip becomes tighter.

"Of course I was, love." He states proudly, before planting a quick peck on my lips. "So be careful what you say. I might just say yes and then the joke would be on you."