Stephan had two choices.

He could tell the truth.

Or he could lie.

He could fabricate some story to justify why Carmen only had one dress in a closet that supposedly was shared between her and himself. He could continue the lie that she had asked him to keep, for whatever unknown reason.

What would that do for him, though? To feed into her games and witchcraft for the umpteenth time- why should he? Carmen was probably never going to talk to him again at this point. His love for her was still burning through him, like his blood was constantly boiling, but she didn't care. She never did and she never would.

But-

But what if she came back to him? What if Carmen were to change her mind about her feelings, and once and for all they could be together. Stephan could lie for her out of his love, and she would come running back in his arms. He would be able to smell her almond sweet hair as he buried his face in it, the creamy skin of her neck would be an empty canvas for his mouth to paint purple marks over.

She would love him.

That was enough. The thought alone of her possibly feeling anything for him was causing his vision to blur all over again. He didn't really have two choices, there was only one. His mind and soul and entity belonged to her completely, even when she wasn't there to cast her spell. No matter how hopeless and wrong he knew it was, he could never betray her.

He loved her.

And when a man loves a woman, truly loves her- with every fiber in his goddamn body- he will do anything for her.

Stephan's hands reached up and calmly wrapped around the ones pressed against his neck. With a forceful push, he freed himself, taking a step back away from Styles. Bruises were left in place of where his calloused fingertips had been digging into his skin, and the soreness of Stephan's throat continued to ache even as he took in steady breaths.

"Carmen did live here," he spoke finally. His eyes closed and a sigh left his lips as soon as he said the words. "She doesn't anymore, though."

He thought back to when she had asked him to put her name on the lease. He hadn't thought much of it then, just another one of her requests that he complied to in exchange for a night with her. She must have been planning something from the start, already stalking her next prey even when Stephan had still been helplessly blind. As he looked into the emerald eyes before him, he couldn't help but feel the slightest bit of relief that this man was just another game to her. He was just as blind as he was.

"Why?" Harry pressed on, his voice not angry but now softened by his confusion. None of it made sense to him. He was already aware that his dark beauty was still a mystery to be explored, but he didn't expect so much of her to be as confusing and frustrating as a labrynth. Her heart, hopefully, would be at the end of it.

Stephan took a beat of silence to quickly make up the story in his head. "I expressed my love for her," he explained quietly, and he didn't have to fake the crack in his voice as he continued. "She didn't feel the same way, and so she decided it was best for us not to live together anymore. I suppose her feelings for you also took part in that descision."

"She told you she has feelings for me?" Harry couldn't help but perk up, a light smile dancing on his lips.

Stephan felt his chest tighten, his head slowly nodding. "She said her heart belonged to someone else," he lied. "Not me."

Harry brought his fingers to his lips, pinching the flesh as he thought to himself. What Stephan was telling him seemed to fit as he tried to put all the pieces together in his mind. Carmen had lived here with him, but now she didn't. That's why her belongings weren't here, except for the single dress from the night they first met.

"Where does she live now, then? And why didn't she tell me about all of this?" Harry frowned. There was no doubt that Carmen knew how uneasy and envious it made him that she shared a living space with another man, so why wouldn't she want to ease Harry's jealousy by telling him this?

"I have no idea where she lives now," Stephan replied honestly. It was true, Carmen had always been very secretive when it came to her personal life. Throughout a year of knowing her, she had never shared anything about where she lived, or who with, or what her family was up to. It was obvious that those were things she liked to have hidden, and would do anything to keep them that way.

"Why did you say just a moment ago that she was using me?" Styles inquired, his features hardening again. "I thought she told you she has feelings for me."

Stephan's expression returned to its state of grief, his lips in a straight line. He let out a sigh, full of fatigue (he had a hard time sleeping when she wasn't in his bed with him) and pain. "I'm just a love strucken fool," he said with a humorless laugh. He shook his head to himself. "Carmen did use me. I loved her and she used that to every bit of her advantage. She ripped my heart from my chest, and controlled the very blood in my veins. She would kiss me and poison me with her meaningless words." His voice was softening to a whisper, a faint cry almost. Harry listened with his eyes showing no emotion.

"I don't know if she will do the same to you." Stephan looked to him and placed his hand awkwardly on Harry's tense shoulder. "I do know that she has done it to plenty of others before me, so you should keep your guard up."

"What do you mean, others?" Harry's jaw clenched, the vein in his neck ticking like a bomb that would go off if the wrong thing were to be said. "How many men has she been with?"

Stephan eyed him warily. "Many..." he spoke slowly. "I can't even tell you the countless times I would see her clinging to the arm of someone else, even when I thought we were together. The concept of loyalty and monogomy doesn't sit well with her, I'm afraid. Who knows, though," Stephan shrugged, his tone light. "Maybe you have altered her perspective on things."

"One can hope," Harry muttered under his breath, his stomach suddenly feeling uneasy. The thought of walking in on her with someone else has always bothered him, and now his fears were just being fueled.

Leaning down, Harry picked up the dress that had fallen from his hold to the floor. He felt the silky fabric, remembering the way it had clung to her body that night in the club. He didn't know what to believe anymore, as he stood there for a few quiet moments, mindlessly playing with the dress in his hands. He couldn't help but feel like there was still so much more to find out about Carmen, things he wasn't sure if he would enjoy. Her past, and much of her present, was being kept from him, but surely with time it would slowly be unveiled.

"You still have to leave," Harry spoke up after a few moments. His eyes were dark and left no room for arguement as he looked to the man beside him, the man who he was still refraining from slitting his throat. Harry's hand, subconciously, felt around in the pocket of his jeans, toying with the switchblade that he always carried on him.

"What? Why?" Stephan's eyes darted around frantically, confused. Had this man not heard anything he had said? Carmen didn't love him, she was gone for good. Stephan was not a 'threat' to anything. Not like he could be a threat to a nonexistent relationship, anyway.

"I don't have to give you a reason why," Styles said casually, the heels of his black boots padding against the floor as he began to stride over to the door, his gait powerful and intimidating, contradicting the nonchalance of his words. The red dress was still hooked over his arm in an almost protective manner.

"And what if I don't leave?"

The sound of Harry's footsteps dissipated as he stood still, meters away from the door. He slowly turned around, his rosy lips tugged up in a deathly smirk, as grim as the gleam in his eyes. His hand, still deep in th confinements of his pocket, wrapped around the switchblade, the cool metal of it giving him a nearly euphoric feeling. How he loved to tightly grip its metal handle until his knuckles turned bone white. How he fed off the unknowing look in his victim's eyes, like a lamb to the slaughter. He could feel all of this right now if he would just let himself kill this irritating prick finally, but something stronger than his desire for blood was controlling him now.

"What if you don't leave?" Harry repeated, bringing his hand out from his pocket. His movements were quick, falling after each other as smoothly as when he played a game of poker. One hand gripped Stephan's jaw, with such force that it made his teeth grind together. The other hand brought the blade to his neck, the layers of skin being the only thing seperating the fatal object from his jugular.

"Well, Mr. Martinez," his gravelly voice drawled out. Stephan's body went still, completely unsure of what to do now that he felt the cool sharpness of the blade digging into his skin slightly, eliciting him to suck in a breath of pain. "If you do not follow my command, I will not hesitate even a second to slit your throat." Harry smiled sweetly, as if his threat was actually a gracious promise. "My beloved Carmen will come and watch, of course."

"You're insane," Stephan spat out boldly, his eyes narrowing.

"No, my friend. I am not insane." Styles shook his head. The acute tip of the knife dug into Stephan's flesh, inviting a small droplet of crimson to trail down the length of his neck.

"I'm in love."

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