Would you love me less?
If you knew the places that I've been?
If you knew the damage that I did?
Would you love me less? No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no
I got too much dirt to come clean
Closets full of skeletons that you don't wanna see
Will you judge me? All my ugly?
I won't blame you if you do
No lies, don't wanna keep no secrets
Even if what I'ma say will you leave speechless
No secrets
If I introduce you to my demons, tell me, baby
Would you love me less?
Song: Love Me Less, by MAX
***
Aster's P.O.V.:
His whole body tenses up immediately, the hand that was stroking my hair halting its movements. Even his breath seems to have stopped.
I wait for his answer, my own body tensing up in reflection, completely aware I really struck a nerve here.
"Where did you..." He starts after what feels like hours. "Where did you hear his name?"
"That night at the warehouse."
Harry stays quiet, but I hear how fast his heart is beating, I can almost feel it against my cheek that's resting on his chest. I wait, trying to give him space, but my heart is starting to race too, I wasn't expecting him to get this tense. Maybe I started off with the wrong question, there's so much I wanna know, maybe I should easy him into answering the hard stuff by asking the easier questions first?
"You can tell me about him later." I speak quietly, raising my face from his chest with the closest to a soft smile that I can manage displayed on my lips. "There's other stuff I want to know too."
His eyes dance all over my face, taking in my expression, and he nods slowly, taking what he can get at the moment.
"What you wanna know?" He asks.
"I wanna know what is it that you do, how this all started. And why." I tell him matter-of-factly.
"OK." Harry takes a deep breath, sitting straight on the couch, one of his legs bent down under his body, his knee popping out and brushing on mine. "Remember your 15th birthday? A week before, my mom found about about the drug thing and decided to split up from my father. They never told me the real reason till I was already living in England with my mom."
"You know about it for this long?" My jaw falls to the ground, completely baffled. Harry was 17 when it happened, it's almost 10 years ago, he was so young to have to deal with something like this...
"Yep. It took me about 3 years to even talk to my father again after I found out about it."
"What? How come? I've never knew about that."
"Yeah, my mum didn't want any kind of contact with him and I was with her on that. I was disappointed and angry, for having to move to another country because of him. In my mind I blamed him, for giving my mum a reason to leave and bring me along." Harry shakes his head, as if silently regretting a decision he made so many years ago. "But after 3 years I kind of wanted to hear my father's version."
"Did you ever... I mean, hm..." I clear my throat, trying to find the right words to ask what want. "Did you ever thought about telling me? Back then, I mean..."
I stop talking when Harry grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers and stroking his thumb on my skin.
"I wanted to tell you, but... At the same time, I simply couldn't bring myself to disappoint you, it felt like I would be destroying your dream, and I... I'm so sorry, Bunny, I couldn't do it. I was young and scared."
"No, I get it. Really." I squeeze his hand, scooting on the couch, the sides of our legs now touching, my bare skin feeling warmth against linen pants.
"That's why I never contacted you again." He says suddenly, cupping my face with his free hand and bringing me to gaze at him. "I didn't know how to talk to you knowing something that big and not telling you, so I just... I just drift apart. I'm so sorry."
Gulping, I try to swallow the lump that's pressing the back of my throat, the hard thumps of my heart against my rib cages so loud I'm afraid he is going to hear it. I never thought one day I would actually find out why Harry simply vanished from my life for 9 years - deep down, I was kinda comfortable thinking he did it simply because he was a jerk. But to know the real reason, to know he did it because he couldn't bear the idea of hiding something from me...
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
My heart flutters, barely containing the wave of affection that suddenly washes me over. I take a deep breath, trying to control it, to bury it back to the deepest cracks in my soul. I cannot let this feeling take over me.
I keep my eyes trained on his for I don't know how long, losing myself on his sea of green, only realizing I'm drowning on him when my lungs starts fighting for air. So I move, still holding his hand but imposing a bit of a physical distance between us as I lean my head back a little.
"I, hmm.." I clear my throat again, trying not to display the messy emotions going through me right now. "I had no idea... You gave up so much. Why did you do it? I mean, accepted taking after your dad?" I know this is a cheap trick, but I'll do it. I need to change the focus of this conversation a bit.
Breaking all physical contact, Harry bends his body a little, reaching for his glass of wine over the center table - which only now I realize it was a miracle I didn't knock it off the table when I was standing there - and taking a big sip from it. And then, after sighing deeply, he explains it to me.
He tells me about the apparent loophole in S&L's contract, in which it says that if Desmond doesn't have a immediate relative to assume the Styles' part after his retirement, all profits will automatically go to the partner at the time - a De Loutherbergh, more likely me or my father. That's why Harry decided to enter the business to begin with, he didn't want his father to lose his whole life legacy, so he stepped in and assumed his part, even though it was against his belief at the time.
I'm absolutely speechless.
This is just such a... Dirty trick. It's so fundamentally wrong, malicious. It shows how wicked my father's intentions has been ever since the beginning.
"How... How could Des sign such a contract?" I whisper between clenched teeth, actually feeling embarrassed for my father's actions.
"My question exactly. I went through every version of social contracts we ever had. Apparently it was around 20 years ago, a section was added amongst other slight changes... So I guess my father signed without reading the whole thing, believing it was only minor changes." Harry sighs, shaking his head. "Idiot."
"He is not an idiot, he just trusted his partner and best friend." I defend Desmond, trying to put myself in his place, something I don't usually do but I really like Des.
"No, he was an idiot. You don't sign a fucking contract without reading it all, he was naïve and irresponsible and it costed us everything." Harry debates bitterly. "He shouldn't have agreed with the hallucinogenic thing to begin with, but that's not even what pissed me off the most. What really takes the cake is how dumb my father was to make business with Phillip. I'm sorry." He adds, noticing he is talking about my father.
I stay quiet, just shaking my head to dismiss his apologies. He is right - what my father did was so wrong, so evil, he deserves to be put in the place of a evil son of a bitch. I've never read S&L's full contract because I didn't think it was needed, but now I'm regretting this. I need to read it with my own eyes and maybe find a way to make things right for them.
Now it all makes sense, why my father seems to hate Harry so much even though he has been doing such a great job, both legal and illegally speaking. Why he wants me not to get close to Harry, why he is always saying I shouldn't trust him - he doesn't want me to find out about all the dirty stuff he has been doing, and more than that, he wants to perpetuate the silent feud between us and the Styles, wants me to chose sides without a second-guess in the world.
"I'm sorry to unload all this crap over you like this." Harry mutters, breaking the silence.
"No, I needed to know that. I can't believe my father... He is not who I always believed him to be." My voice falters, tears coming to my eyes that I quickly try to blink away. "It's just... He is my only family. And he is rotten."
Silently, Harry sneaks his arms around my shoulders and waist, pulling me to a tight embrace. I hide my face on the crook of his neck, closing my eyes and letting the warmth of his body and the scent of his cologne comfort me.
I've lost my sister.
My mother.
And now, my father.
Even though he is not dead, he is not the person I've always believed him to be. It's like I'm seeing him for the first time, and he is rotten, putrid. An hypocrite. During my entire life, he always preached about hard work and honesty, he always preached about walking on the right side of justice, he taught me to be a rightful person, how could he do it if he is not like this?
This is how fucking fake he is. How deep his mark goes - I don't even think he realizes it.
I'm overwhelmed and fundamentally sad about everything he just told me, I'm disappointed, disgusted, but above it all, I'm angry.
I'm just so fucking angry.
Breaking from the hug, I face Harry. His eyes are saddened as he strokes a strand of hair out of my face, his cheeks slightly flustered, clear green eyes showing nothing but honesty and sorrow. The same face I've used to look at as a child, the face that was always so filled with love and acceptance.
Harry was with me ever since I was a baby and he was a toddler. He was the one who teached me my first cuss-word, between chuckles and whispers under my parent's dinner table. He was the one who helped me overcome my fear of riding a bike without the training wheels, the one who eased my first day at school by introducing me to everybody. He was the one who gave me shelter when my sister wasn't around anymore. He and his family, Desmond, Anne - they took care of me and gave me the emotional support my own father couldn't.
And almost 20 years later, he's here again. Giving me exactly what he has been giving my whole life.
Shelter. Home. Security. Love.
My heart is beating fast in my chest, my eyes dancing all over his face, taking in every detail, every tiny mark, every crevice and beautiful feature that makes him who he is. Green eyes. High cheekbones. Straight nose. Pouty lips. Not exactly full but not thin, the exact amount, perfect, mesmerizing. I watched his face change, mature over the years, but one thing never changed.
The way he looks at me.
Not thinking, I lean my face closer, brushing the swollen tip of my nose on his. He closes his eyes, accepting the proximity without a word, no hesitation. My hands goes up and I'm cupping his face, a strange mix of delicacy and strength, soft and rasp at the same time, like sandpaper. Taking a deep breath, I feel his scent in my heart. Tobacco, vanille, cocoa. Mint. Cinnamon. Harry. The perfect scent.
I break the little distance, finding his lips with my parted ones. He inhales a deep breath breath the moment our lips meet, his hands completely still in my back, a half-embrace that feels complete.
I love him.
I've loved him my whole life, and not even 9 years of silence was enough to make me forget about him.
I loved him fraternally at first. Like a member of my family. Like a best friend. I think even when I was 15 and had a crush on him, deep down I still loved him live a friend.
But love is not something set on stone. It can mutate. Change. Evolve. The fraternal barrier was broken the moment our cores met for the first time, and now I know why it felt so different from any other I'd ever had, why it was such a deep connection. It wasn't solely lust.
It was love too.
He pokes his tongue out, softly brushing it on my bottom lip, his hands now dragging up to cup my face, and the touch makes my stomach flutter and my mind go dizzy.
I'm in love with him.
Fuck.
I can't be in love with him. Life's complicated enough as it is. I can't deal with that right now, for fuck sake.
"So... hm--" I pull back suddenly, clearing my throat and going to my glass of wine. Harry opens his eyes, a doubtful gaze on his eyes, but he snaps out of it quickly, his facial expression going back to the usual cheeky nonchalant he is always displaying. "That's also why you were such a jerk to me when you came back?"
"Yep, sorry 'bout that. I was afraid of getting too close and spilling the tea, exactly like I did. Kind of." He shrugs with indolence, quickly adapting to the unspoken change in the mood.
"We're past that now, don't worry." I tell dismissively. Honestly, even though he was kinda cruel with me in the past, it's not like I could hold that against him now, is it? Not after all the sex. "So, about EJ... Who is he?"
His body language changes immediately after I mentioned the name, again going stern and tense. I see the denial forming behind his eyes and raise my hand before he starts talking again.
"Please, Harry. I deserve to know." I vocalize, hoping it will be enough to fish honesty out of him.
He raises his hand, pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, then empties his glass of wine, fills another one and drinks half of it in one big gulp. I watch him silently, hopefully, waiting for what he is going to say next.
"I don't know exactly who he is." He starts, pinning his eyes on mine and talking slow, thoughtfully. "When I came back to New York, Phillip told me there's a guy trying to take the lead from us, market-wise. He also produces hallucinogenic drugs and has been trying to take what is ours. Phillip told me to stop him, I think they have some personal thing between them, but I haven't been able to track much more, the guy is like a bloody ghost."
"That's why you're... Tort-- Interrogating people?" Like that Brian guy, at the warehouse." I close my eyes at the word that almost escaped my lips.
"Say it." Harry sounds bitter. "You can say it, Aster. The guy I was torturing."
Silence takes over us again for a few more moments that again feel more like a lifetime. I know he is expecting me to say he was torturing someone, but I simply can't bring myself to say it. Even though I watched him doing it, the whole idea still sounds and feels so absurd to me, the cheeky, playful and affectionate Harry I know being too distant from the cold blooded, menacing guy I saw that night.
"Yeah. That." I finally give up, realizing Harry will not continue if I don't say it.
"You remember his name..." He mutters under his breath, suddenly sounding sad, clear sorrow wrapping around his words.
"Who's name? EJ's?"
"Brian's." Harry sighs and I feel him moving, his tense body under me suddenly getting too stiff. I look up to see his scrunched face. "Shit, Aster, you're so unfit for this all."
"Why are you saying this?" I move from over him, sitting back on the couch as I feel he wants his space, and he proves me right by jolting from the couch the moment I'm off of him.
"Because I was the one who tortured him, and I didn't remember his fucking name." He says, shaking his head with frustration. "You're so... pure. You too pure to be involved in this dirty mess."
"I am pure?" I scoff, rolling my eyes as I lean over the center table to grab my glass of wine. "Harry, you've been intimate with me enough times to know I'm anything but pure."
"This is different." He says dismissively. "It's sex, desire, carnal need... Having some kinks and acting on them doesn't make you impure. Torturing a guy and forgetting his name, being on the places I've been and doing the things--" His voice trails off as he brings his hand up, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to calm himself down.
"What have you done?" I ask him, raising my eyebrows. I'm not trying to sound judgy, on the contrary actually. I want him to open up with me, I feel like he needs to unload whatever guilty he carries over his shoulders. That night in his bathroom never left my mind, and not because of the way he fucked me... But for how he was completely disrupted before. "Harry, I won't judge you. You know some of my deepest secrets, you can trust me, I--"
"You don't get it, Aster." His voice raises, a bit shaky from his shattered nerves. "If you knew the places I've been, the damage I've done... You would never want to touch me again."
Leaving my glass over the center table, I stand up too, going to where Harry is standing. He refuses to look at me, turning his eyes away, but I'm not having it. I'm so fucking short, even in the tip of my toes I'm not able to be face to face to him, so without a second though I jump over the center table.
Harry looks at me quizzically as he realizes where I'm standing, and I grab his face between my hands, finally standing as tall as him, and pull him closer so I can pin my eyes on his.
"Harry, look at me." I demand as he try to look away again. "Harry!" I raise my voice and he finally complies, pinning his eyes filled with pain in mine. "Yeah, I watched you torturing a guy. But I came back to your apartment the next day, didn't I? And I saw you arriving with your clothes drenched in blood, and I stayed. Didn't I?" I try to reason with him, cupping his face between my hands. "I'm not going anywhere, I've told you this."
"You don't know half of it. All the skeletons I keep in my closet, Aster, I... I'm evil." He shakes his head, tears prickling to his eyes.
"Harry..." My voice falters too, not knowing exactly what to say. I mean, if this causes him so much pain, why does he do it? "You're clearly not evil. Look how bad it makes you feel, how much guilt you carry... Isn't there a way of leaving this all behind?"
Harry scoffs, sarcastically, again looking away from my eyes. "There's no other way."
"Because of the contract." I mumble under my breath, realization hitting me again, only know understanding the extent of my father's doings and how it has affected Harry's life, corrupted his soul in a way he can't even describe.
That anxiety attack. It makes sense now.
Fuck, I have that he is suffering like this. I need to do something, anything, to help him. But how can I do it without going against my own father?
Do I even want to be on my father's side?
"Why are you standing over the table?" He asks suddenly, looking down to my bare feet over the marble surface.
"You're too tall and I wanted to look at you properly." I shrug and he smiles, shaking his head and blinking repeatedly, trying to get rid of the sudden wetness on his eyes.
"You're unbelievable." He mumbles, getting even closer to me and wrapping his arms around my waist firmly, pulling me up and getting me off of the table.
I wrap my legs around his torso instinctively and his smile goes wider as he slowly walks back to the couch and drops me there, being somewhat careful but, at the same time, opening a toothy grin as I fall with a not-so-delicate bounce.
"Is it enough with the tough conversation?" He asks, towering over me, still standing between my legs, his hands on my thighs. "I want to chill." He pouts.
"Mmm.." I smile slyly, tightening the grip of my legs around his hips. "I still have so many questions..."
"You can ask me later." He smooths his hands, fingers sneaking under the fabric of my shorts, teasingly. His teeth sunk on his bottom lip. "I'm not paying attention anymore."
My stomach flutters, a soft moan falling from my lips as Harry's fingers reach the swell of my hips, probably searching of the band of a underwear I'm not wearing.
"Fuck." He hisses between clenched teeth, his irises darkening with blown up pupils. "Aren't you a little devil?"
I suck a sharp breath with the feeling of his fingers slowly moving, hot on my skin, circling the swell of my hips and the soft curve that sinks to my pubic bone. His other hand travels up my thigh, reaching for the side of my neck we he bends his torso down, getting closer. His warm breath fans over my face and he brushes his lips on mine at the same time his fingers slip to my clit, causing me to yelp, my belly jolting with surprise.
"Maybe it's time for your neighbors to learn my name?" He rasps, fingers starting to circle my clit, ever so slowly I can barely feel it, his touch only feathering over my core in a teasing manner.
"Like yours know mine?" I ask, biting down my bottom lip and raising my body over my elbows, at the same time I tight the grip of my legs to move him, with all the intention in the world of turning us over so he is the one sitting and I can straddle him.
But Harry doesn't cave, staying still like a damn wall. He smirks, taking his hand off of my shorts and wrapping both his arms under my torso before he stands, bringing me along with ease. A little yelp falls from my lips from the sudden movement and I shoot my arms up, wrapping them around Harry's shoulders to have something to grip, my legs still firmly wounded on his hips.
He turns, going to sit on the couch, like I wanted him to, but I get exactly what are his intentions here - he is sitting there because he wants to. I didn't expect him to let me dominate and lead things again so soon after the last time we had sex, but that kind of slipped from my mind in the heat of the moment.
In this new position, I'm straddling his legs, my knees sinking on the couch around his hips. He throws me a mischievous look, both his hands going to his bulge and quickly undoing his pants and pulling down the zipper, just enough to show the hard, swollen bulge under the white boxers. Shoving one hand under it, he adjusts himself, positioning his dick up instead of to the side, the velvety tip of his cock slightly peeking from under the waistband of his boxers.
My mouth waters at the vision, I never thought a literal dick head would be so fucking enticing. Sneaking one hand around my waist, Harry grabs my chin with the other, forcing me to face him, the lust written all over his face increasing the pressure on the back of my throat.
"Give me a good grind, babe." He rasps, his voice sounding deeper, pulling my face closer to his till our lips are brushing. "And fucking kiss me."
He doesn't need to say it twice. With a smile still playing on my lips, I crash them against his, so eagerly our teeth clink for a moment, but we brush it off with a chuckle before he is dipping his tongue inside of my mouth and completely stealing the air out of my lungs. My hands goes to his head, pulling the jeans hat and throwing it on the floor, fingers lacing on his soft curls and tugging his roots. He groans into the kiss as I start moving my hips, our clothed cores meeting, the upwards position of his erection creating the perfect angle for my clit.
He gropes both my asscheeks with his hands, guiding my movements, making them harder, but slower, making me feel every inch of his dick under the thin barrier of my running shorts and his boxers. I moan, urgently breaking from the kiss to breathe out a little warning. Do not slap me.
"Why?" He opens his eye slightly, squeezing my ass with obvious need.
"Tate will fucking murder you if you slap me." I chuckle and he rolls his eyes.
"Fucking dog..." He scoffs before catching my bottom lip between his teeth again, pulling it slightly, the feeling connecting straight up to between my legs.
He moves his hands, as if trying to get away from temptation, one big palm going to my thigh, his other arm wrapping around my lower back, holding me in position before he crams his hips up, slowly rubbing himself up and down against me. My stomach tights into a big knot, a sharp breath leaving my parted lips, it's absurd how good this feels, I don't think I've just grinded someone ever since college.
He kisses me again, hungrily, moving his hips still unbearably slow and groaning into my mouth as my wetness wins the thin barrier between our cores, soaking the fabric of his boxers. I whimper when he pulls my body down, increasing the pressure.
"Fuck... This feels amazing." Harry groans between clenched teeth, both his hands snapping to my hips so he can guide my movements, enhancing them and slowly building a rhythm.
"Yeah--" I agree with a moan, circling my hips to change the direction of our rubs and Harry hisses loudly. "Frustrating, though." I chuckle softly as he crams his hips up again, desperate to create even more friction.
"Shit, you fucking fixates me." He groans, groping the thick fabric of my sweatshirt and fisting it tightly, intaking a sharp and loud breathe. "So fucking hot--"
A sly smile curls my lips up as an idea pops into my mind. Breaking from the kiss, I dart my face to the side, going to his ear and kissing it softly before I whisper. "I'm soaking, babe. Warm and slick, but empty. Need you to fill me."
"Fuck, Aster, you're the devil." He groans, circling his hips up and whining. "Teasing me like this... I was about to give you the grind of your life, but you can't help yourself, can you?"
"What can I do?" I raise my eyebrows innocently at him, biting down my bottom lip with a mischievous smile. "It's not my fault that you fuck me so good, I never seem to get enough."
"Shit." His eyes go darker and he tucks his hands under my butt, right on the top of my thighs and pulls me up, standing up again with me hugging him like a koala bear. "Where's your bed?"
"Put me down, I'll take you there". I giggle to his ear and he grunts again, putting my down like I told him too.
The moment my feet touch the ground I feel short, almost defenseless next to him, and this only increases the thrill building on the pit of my stomach. Grabbing his hand and intertwining our fingers, I pull him towards the corridor that leads to my room.
He pulls me back when we're in the middle of the corridor, pinning me against the wall and circling his hips against mine, so much force my feet leave the ground as he kisses me, building more tension and making me feverish till he steps back, letting me lead the way again.
When we get to my room, he closes the door with his foot, blindly pushing me towards the bed, our lips glued together, tongues lapping each other in a frantic dance. The back of my knees bumps into the bed and I fall back, pulling him with me by grabbing the collar of his t-shirt. We fall with a soft bounce, lips never leaving each other's, kissing and biting and licking in hectic desperation.
Harry grinds his hips again, breaking from the kiss to suck and bite my neck, already starting to make the mess he loves to. I grab the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up and off of his body and he lays over me again, sucking the skin under my ear.
Suddenly, there's a buzzing sensation on the bed and he chuckles, whispering raspily on my ear. "Does your bed vibrate, darling?"
"What? No" I breathe out, panting and breathless from our messy kiss. "Fuck, it's my phone, where the fuck--"
Harry breaks from the kiss, fumbling his slender fingers between the covers in search for my phone while I attach my lips to his neck and kiss him,, sucking his skin, my hand going to his bulge and stroking him up and down over his boxers.
The buzz sound gets louder, meaning he found it. "Just turn it off.." I breathe, biting his skin and circling my hips in need, groping his dick harder.
However, his whole body goes all tense suddenly, making me stop my movements and break contact with his neck, so I can look at him. "What?"
Harry darts his eyes from the screen of my phone to my face, frowning, his whole body posture changing, getting tense like a damn stick. "Why is he calling you?" He asks, turning the screen to me.
Timothy Jones.
My heart jumps with surprise, Tim's about the last person I would expect to call me in a Saturday afternoon. "I don't know, just turn it off" I say with a shrug.
Harry does as I say, dismissing the call and throwing my phone back to the covers, but when his eyes find mine again, he is not with that sexual, predatory look that always comes before we're fucking like bunnies. He looks stern.
"What?" I frown, prompting my body up with my elbows so I can look better at him. "I don't know why is he calling."
"Why would he call you? It's Saturday." Harry asks, his voice getting darker.
"Don't know. I saw him at the office yesterday, he asked me go out with him again, but I--"
"What did you say to him?" Harry frowns, that possessive side of him starting to show it's ugly head.
"Said I'm busy right now. Frankly, Harry, why does it matter?"
"Are you going out with him again?" His voice drops an octave. "You know you can't, don't you? Fucks sake, Aster!"
What the fuck?
My blood starts boiling, now from a different reason from less than a minute ago. I scrunch my face to a grimace, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the way he is speaking with me. "I didn't... Harry, you cannot tell me what I can or can't do."
"Oh, yeah? Funny cause I just did it." He bites back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Don't go out with him. Ops, just did it again, how weird."
I squint my eyes, sitting straight on the bed, the whole sexual mood completely gone now.
"Who the fuck do you think you are to tell me who I can or cannot see? You're mixin--" My voice trails down as he raises his.
"I'm the motherfucker who is fucking you, without a condom for that matter, so don't act like it's ok for you to go around fucking other lads." He shouts, his deep voice thundering and echoing between my glass walls.
"How dare you!" I almost spit my heart out of my mouth from how fucking pissed I'm right now. How dare him disrespect me like that?
"How dare you! Come on, Aster, don't tell me you're going to Pandemonium too?" He almost spits, anger and despite dripping from his words, and that's it for me.
"Leave." I breathe out in a murmur, trying to control my racing heartbeats, my blood boiling in my veins with a mix of hurt and anger, so messy I can't even say what feeling is stronger right now.
Harry is paralyzed, not moving a damn nerve as I jolt from the bed, standing on the ground and pointing to the door, my arm stretched. "Fucking leave my house! Right now!" I shout, my voice high pitched and laced with venom.
His chin falls slack open for half a second before he is standing from the bed as well, shooting his hand to pull his zippers up, doing the bottom of his pants and throwing me a dirty look before walking to the bedroom door, opening it violently and walking away.
Less than a minute later, I hear my front door opening and slamming closed, so hard it echoes through the whole apartment, Tate barking, Brie jumping from her hideout in my in-suite bathroom and running to under the bed.
And then, I'm alone again.
Angry and alone.
***
A/N:
What is up with these two that are always going one step forward, two backwards?