She knocks on his door, unsure of why she's even here. Every instinct in her body is telling her to run, run far away from the man who shattered the last bit of heart she had left, but here she is anyway. Every second that passes feels like eternity, and yet the instant he opens the door, she wishes he hadn't answered.
His right eyebrow arches in surprise at finding her at his doorstep, but he doesn't say anything. Instead he stands a few inches away, watching her intently. His chiselled face is stoic and expressionless, like he's a fucking inanimate object incapable of feeling anything.
Anger surges through her but she reminds herself not to lose it. Too many times she's made herself vulnerable to him only to have him crush her, and she'll be damned if she makes that same mistake again.
"Why are you here?" he asks.
A question she's asked of him many times before. "To see you." A part of her wants desperately to believe the fleeting expression of joy on his face is genuine, but she's not idiotic enough to fall for that crock of shit again. "You're leaving."
"Because you asked me to," he reminds her, sounding hurt, and angry.
His sullen response is downright infuriating. Of course she asked him to leave. She had to. After everything that happened between them, seeing him every day was like suffering through the worst hangover without the high of a good buzz from the night before. "Can you blame me?"
His features soften, his eyes brimming with unexpected emotion. His lips part and tremble slightly, like he wants to say something, but no words leave his mouth. He doesn't speak, not even a word, but the sudden vulnerability on his face makes her want to reach out to him. What does it say about her that even after all of his betrayals he still has such a powerful hold on her? Because he does, he absolutely does, try as she might to deny it.
Only he has the ability to make her feel completely out of control.
Utterly broken.
Devastated.
And yet underneath all that layers of pain and anguish, he also makes her feel protected, at times even safe - like last week when he escorted her away from the volatile crowd in the stadium. Then again, she reminds herself, that's part of his job.
A troubling thought lurks in the recesses of her mind these days, haunting her nightly now that she doesn't have the luxury of drugs to keep her sane. Did he ever feel anything for her or was she always just a mark? There are times she catches him looking at her with startling desperation, but she can't help but wonder if it's simply guilt. If it is just that she wants him the hell out of her life, as fast as possible.
Reaching into her purse, she pulls out the cheque from the inside pocket. "Here. This is for you."
He glances down at it. "You're offering me money?"
"You're leaving a lucrative position because I asked you to. Consider this severance pay."
He takes the cheque from her fingers and rips it apart, throwing the pieces on the floor. His voice is cold when he speaks again. "Fuck you, Len."
"It's your highness," she corrects him haughtily.
"Fine. Fuck you, your highness."
"Go to hell!"
She turns around to leave when he suddenly grabs her from behind, pulling her into his arms. She struggles against him, trying to fight him off, but it's a useless gesture. He's quicker, and stronger, and - goddamnit - she misses being in his arms, the feel of his hands on her body.
He has her trapped, her body firmly entrenched between his and the wall behind. She's panting for air after their short struggle but he doesn't look even remotely fazed, instead glaring at her with his piercing eyes.
"I was ready to leave, to walk out of your life, because that's what you wanted," he bites out. "But you come in here, throw money in my face, like I'm some kind of problem that needs to be resolved and you think I'd be okay with that?"
"What's the matter, Jasper? Did I hurt your fragile ego?" she taunts.
"You would have gotten exactly what you wanted, Princess, if you didn't overplay your hand." He cradles her face, forcing her to look at him. "But now, I'm not going anywhere. Now you have to deal with me, and our relationship."
"We don't have a relationship!" she spits out.
"Yeah, we do."
"I hate you!"
"Not as much as I hate myself."
Nope, not again. She refuses to fall for the sincere glint in his eyes; he's played her for a fool one too many times. "Don't you dare try to make me feel sorry for you."
"Is that what you think I'm doing?"
Jasper isn't one to yell easily. He's usually still and quiet, waiting for the perfect moment to attack his opponent. He doesn't need to scream to be heard but now he sounds frantic, the loud volume of his voice bordering on desperate.
"I don't want your fucking pity, Len!"
"Then what the hell do you want?" Tears sting her eyes but she refuses to cry in front of him. Not again. Never again. She waits for him to speak, to say something, anything, but he doesn't - and yet the silence is deafening, the pain from their past hanging in the air between them.
He moves ever so slightly, taking her by surprise when he lays his head in the crook of her neck. She finds herself unable to breathe, suddenly, with the weight of his body pressed against her entire self. At first she doesn't know what to do with her hands, to hold him or push him away. In the end she doesn't move at all, keeping her arms at her side.
His terse whisper breaks the silence at last. "I own you, Len."
She hates that thrill of excitement that rushes through her blood, the way her body trembles as his lips skim over her collarbone.
"And you own me," he continues, peering at her closely. "So you can hate me, and fight me, and push me away if you want, but you will have to find a way to deal with me. Because I'm not going away, your highness. I promise you that."
She shoves him away. "Selfish asshole!"
"Takes one to know one, Princess."
She glares at him as he picks up the content of her bag from the floor and shoves it back inside the Fendi. "Why can't you let me be happy?"
He takes the purse and places it in her hands. "If I thought you could be happy without me, I'd leave right this sec and never look back. But I know you can't, because you need me like I need you. That's why you came here today, to make me stay." He moves back, putting some much needed distance between them. "Even if you can't admit it yet."
He spins around and goes back into his flat, slamming the door behind him.
She stands there, stunned, wondering what kind of fresh hell she's gotten herself into again.
A/N - Thanks for reading. I just started watching the show and while it can be very ridiculous at times, I do enjoy the messed up dynamic between Jasper and Eleanor.