Trigger

She's happy and so is he, but it all feels wrong.


Donna

She's in a peach dress and white coat, her red hair flowing freely behind her with the bobbing of her head as she walks. Her heels clack on the sidewalk floor in rhythm, barely discernible amidst the many other footsteps coming from around her. Her legs take her to a dainty cafe in a corner of Manhattan.

The waitress smiles and greets her by name as she enters. She glances at the tables quickly and upon failing to find whatever or whomever she was looking for, takes a seat at the table by the window. When she's seated, she takes out a book and a pencil from inside her bag.

Macbeth.

Flipping to the page where she'd left off, the waitress comes over and places her usual on the table. She thanks the younger girl beautifully named Oona, and continues with her book, pencil in hand, ready to jot down her thoughts on a paragraph or line in the book.

The world slowly disappears.

...

Harvey

He takes one more look at his watch. He's both late and very late. Sure it wouldn't take him too long to get there but counting in the traffic, who knows when he'll arrive? Until that last signature gets on the paper, he'll just have to slightly fidget from time to time while trying his best to keep a stoic expression, wondering how much longer this will take.

After what he thinks is a few more minutes wasted of his incredibly expensive time, he's finally free to go. He's in his car already when he tries to phone her but can't get through. Well, this is starting off to be a great first date, isn't it?

By the time he arrives, he's a half an hour late and he's dreading this already. He's kept a woman waiting for half an hour. Of course, women fall at his feet and would pardon him in a heartbeat but as someone he couldn't recall once quoted, "punctuality is the best aphrodisiac." If only he could remember who.

He steps into the restaurant and searches for the woman. And without too much effort he finds her. There she sits, still waiting for him, possibly considering deserting the date right about now. He sighs and walks over.

"I'm sorry I'm late, I had a client meeting that overran." He says, taking his seat.

"Don't worry," she pauses. "But I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of ordering a drink while waiting." She raises her glass towards him and takes a gulp.

He simply smiles and takes a sip himself.

...

Donna

Her silent world collapses as she feels a gentle touch on her shoulder. She looks up and smiles, greeting her date. She closes her book and buries it in her bag, pulling her usual coffee order closer to give space.

After taking a sip, she looks at the person across her. The man with his brown hair and smile, looking back at her with those caring eyes. She loves these eyes. They're all too familiar in some way she can't put her finger on. They make her feel safe. Like she can jump over a cliff and still be unharmed.

He begins talking about something he's giddy about. She leans closer a little, showing a slight interest. He cracks a joke and she chuckles.

His hand reaches over to touch hers. He takes it with both his hands and kisses it gently. All she sees are those eyes, longing for more. She doesn't know if that longing lies behind her own eyes, whether he sees it or pretends to see it or doesn't bother to take notice.

At that moment she wonders why the only feeling she could clearly identify is guilt. She wants to push it away, to relish the moment.

But it all feels wrong.

...

Harvey

He watches as she pushes her red locks back. He realizes something as he takes a look at this woman sitting in front of him. He thinks silently to himself and sighs inside. There's no way he would do something that. He wasn't that person. But everything was staring right back at him in plain sight.

The bravado, the red locks. And the dress. She had to wear this dress of all days. Never mind the place, it brings back enough memories as it is. Memories of the woman, the red haired woman he'd promised he won't cross the line with. Her words. Her smile.

He felt it all too suddenly that he just waved it away. This woman in front of him was perfectly fine. For the night. The future? Who knows, who cares? There's enough of thinking one step ahead at work, he'd prefer to do things however he wanted when on a personal level.

But he feels somehow exhausted. Physically? Definitely. Mentally? Though he tries to deny it, he is tired. Tired of all the games he has to play constantly. Yet a part of him is a constant spark that fires him through his job and his relationships.

He just needed to decide at the end of this meal whether to power through and enjoy the moment or to just retreat and recharge till the next game begins or to let the spark run freely and take over with red-locks. Three options.

But they all feel wrong.

...

Hours later, they all stand to leave.

She smiles back at the eyes, one that says "it was nice while it lasted".

He gives red-locks a kiss on the cheek and bids her farewell.

And the two walk out, empty-handed in different places. No person in tow, no forced or genuine laugh, a burden lifting from their chests as another settles in. Just a closer and his legal secretary walking on the street alone with their hands in their pockets on a cold November evening, going their own ways with a single thought.

"What went wrong?"

If only fate wasn't so cruel, they'd see the answers right before them. But that's just wishful thinking. You know, c'est la vie.

As it starts to drizzle ever so lightly, she sits at a bus stop in the middle of nowhere. Looking down on her lap, searching for an answer somewhere. It's there, she just needs to find a trigger that would snap the gears back into place.

Meanwhile is walking ever so slowly, taking in the little moments he has to himself where it's not another power exhausting trip. He lets his legs take him wherever they want and they do. Wherever he'll find himself when the time expires, he figures he'll just find his way back.

And he does. But that's another story of another time.


AN: To clarify, there are 4 characters here: Donna, Harvey, Eyes, and Red-locks. Supposedly this isn't a one chapter story. Unless of course... no one reads it... OTL or you want it to end here? That's cool with me. Let me know. AND I hope someone got the whole Oona thing. Anyone?

- Syd (insert heart symbol here)