*Another story from my tumblr. Written because we had an excessive heat warning in effect last week in the Northeast/New England Area and it was craaazy. And of course, my mind wandered to Darvey. Fantomette*
EXCESSIVE HEAT WARNING REMAINS IN EFFECT FROM NOON FRIDAY TO
10 PM SUNDAY.
-HEAT INDEX VALUES: UP TO 115.
###
"My AC broke."
Only three words and this text from Donna Paulsen sent his heart racing.
"Mine isn't. Come here." He pressed send and regretted it instantly. It has been awkward between them since
'that THING' happened between them.
She kissed him.
And he really really really liked it and lost in that moment he forgot about everything he's done wrong and who he was dating at the time. After half a second of shock he melted into the kiss, silently pleading for more minutes of her hands around his neck, in his hair, on his skin. Donna. Surrounding him.
Them: two puzzle pieces that fit.
She was all over him and there was nothing he wanted more than to be all over her too but she stopped it.
Just a sweet reminder that she's always been irreplaceable even if he had tried. He knew it. He'd been stupid. Too stupid, for far too long.
"You are…" he can't find the words exactly, as all that comes to his mind when he opens the door and sees her standing there, strapless black top and long flowy white skirt, are not what a gentleman should say. He tilts his head and let her in, a few word still on the tip of his tongue as his gaze skims over her curves. He can't exactly tell her right off the bat that she looks 'hot'.
Maybe this is only chance. He doesn't want Donna back like he used to, he doesn't want to 'go back' to what things were. Not after that kiss. He wants different, he wants new, he wants THEM. TOGETHER.
He's been craving being near her for days and there she is.
"Is she…?" Donna starts, looking around her.
"Gone," he replies right away. "We needed different things." (You. I needed you, he thinks while brushing her arm, taking her handbag).
"Hmmm. Ok." She eyes him skeptically but let's herself in. She's always been at ease in his condo. He sees her eyes stop on the little cactus, thriving next to his record player and he's never felt prouder of that little thing still being alive.
Her hair is in a high ponytail, showing her long neck and he can see drops of sweats scintillating there, between her freckles. He licks his lips, thinking how her salty skin would taste, he feels increasingly warm, even with the AC on. Is that AC on anyway? Why is he sweating so much? The back of his white t-shirt is drenched and his jogger pants are way too warm.
She's talking about how she called the sup of her building about that broken AC and he's lost, staring at her rosy lips, he should listen more. She deserves to be listened to but...
She was the one who kissed him.
And he hasn't exactly been able to FUNCTION properly since then.
She's on his couch now, fanning herself, saying how good it feels to finally feel herself cooling down, but he's that guy, sitting next to her, imagining her hot and sweaty while his tongue explores her body.
"ICE?!" He almost shouts while he springs out of the couch and he heads to the kitchen, behind the counter, because maybe this is a good time to hide his very apparent interest in her.
She is looking at him strangely. He can feel it even with his back turned as he puts ice cubes into glasses, trying to calm down before heading back to the living room.
"In other circumstances I'd want to talk about it Harvey," She touches his hand when he gives her the glass and he wants this to last forever, cold glass, warm hands, but he can't. He just stands there still, in front of her, stupidly, and he takes a big gulp from his own glass, knowing that isn't what he's thirsty for.
"But Harvey,"she continues after putting her glass down on the coffee table and folding her legs under her, "I'm afraid you are not ready."
He doesn't know what to say because maybe he won't ever feel ready but what's different now is that he's willing to try, even if he's scared.
"And I really am here to cool down a bit."
"You can sleep here." Did he just say that, he asks himself right after saying it? He coughs uncomfortably. "I mean stay as long as you want."
Time
He just needs more time.
"Hmmm really? Let's just eat and I'll go home ok?"
"I…" he shakes his head. "Donna. I have nothing to eat."
It takes her a moment to assimilate what he's saying.
"You never eat here don't you? Not since..."
He shakes his head. He's been spending endless hours at the office, getting lost in work since the breakup.
She gets up while saying he must have rice or pasta or something, walks into his kitchen, rummaging through the pantry.
"Wow. You really don't have any food but…" she turns to face him as he's now standing next to her, his back against the kitchen counter (her bending down to look through his pantry was such a pretty sight, he's only human after all he had to get a closer look. "But...why do you have this?"
She shakes the box in front of his face. "I never imagined you as a Poptarts type of guy?!"
He swipes the box from her hands and suddenly .makes a bold move, catching her fingers between his and pulling her closer. For once, she seems speechless when her body is flushed against his.
"See, when I told you she and I needed different things. She needed Poptarts. But me I'm…" He brushes his thumb against her cheek, her skin so warm under his touch and she's looking at him so softly he feels all fuzzy inside and it makes him wrap his arms around her, palms traveling down her back until they rest above her waist, but not too firmly, giving her every chance she wants to get away. He owes her that.
But he blinks once, twice, she's still there and it's desire he sees in her eyes. She wants it as much as he does. In fact, she knew it before he did.
"I'm more into Nougatine. And Chunky Monkey," he finishes quietly."
He's the one initiating the kiss this time, with an intensity that leaves no doubts on his true feelings for her. It only takes a moment for his hands to sneak under her skirt. When his fingertips meet skin and he traces a path, searching for underwear and doesn't find any, instead finding her hot center, he hums inside her mouth and she gently sucks on his lower lip. She opens herself to him, getting lost in his embrace. That woman has always been too hot for him, he truly doesn't deserve being that blessed right now, as she's undressing him and kissing him. Her tongue his still cold from the water she drank and he likes it too much. Taking an ice cube from his glass he trails it on her breasts, then quickly replacing the sensation of coldness on her hardened nipples with his mouth, hot and demanding. Why is he so warm? Is that AC even working? Maybe he feels nothing but heat because her fingers are now wrapped around him, stroking him where it counts, and he's slowly losing control, running out of breath or heartbeats for that matter. He pushes her on the counter to fill her with his love. Her legs wrapped around his waist, he pushes inside her and it's quick and slow and deep but never deep enough, all he can feels his her, only her all around him and she hums his name, her lips pressed on his collarbone. It would be perfect, just goddamn perfect if only, if ONLY it wasn't so hot. He is feeling dizzy, not from her, but from the hot air in his lungs. He can't exactly stop now, he's been waiting for this for so long and he can feel her so wet and demanding he wants to hear her scream his…
"HOLY SH…!"
He's tangled in his sheets on the floor of his own bedroom.
It's so warm, hot even, like an oven. He can barely breathe. The AC must have broken or something and with this heat wave it's unbearable.
He slowly comes back to a harsh reality.
It was just another Donna dream.
He's lying on his bedroom floor, his sheets wrapped around his own body like he tried to fight his own bed, one hand still clearly holding a very strategic part of his anatomy.
He's 42 years old for Christ sake and he still acts like an immature prick.
Donna wanted more and he got scared. He made the most coward move ever and went for security.
But it tasted like dry pop tarts and no matter how much he tried to let it in, the sun never reached his bed in the morning.
Donna kissed him. And it was like the sun and the heat lit his whole being.
He broke up with...that woman. Because it was wrong all along.
But he still hasn't called HER.
SHE who he should be with.
Instead he's been a coward again, being friendly and acting all professional when all that he wants is HER.
She made herself clear, even if she did it for her. She kissed him. How can his life gets worse: he's presently lying on his bedroom floor, all sticky and sweating. He lets out a long sigh, the pain from this hurtful reality hitting him fully.
Bruised. Literally and metaphorically. Tired. Of fighting it. Of being scared.
He kicks the sheets to sit and he grabs his phone from the night table:
"Donna. My AC is broken. Also we need to us. Can I come by? -Harvey
He rolls his eyes. Why does he sucks so much when it comes to love? This is the lamest message but he has to risk something. Finally.
*Send*
He lies down on his back, nervous because if she already has found someone else, then he will be miserable for the rest of his life. He should have acted sooner. Why has he always been such a pussy? Why does she… He feels pearls of sweats rolling down his forehead.
*Bling* he looks at his phone and reads:
"What took you so long?- Donna
