author's note: Hello, I accidentally OTPed and I somehow wrote this. Again, I am a new fan to Suits and was very naughty so spoiled myself a little and watched one or two episodes from Season 2. They happened to be probably the most intense episodes in the entire series. I apologise in advance for any inaccuracies or OOCness. These two, in this oneshot, are placed in a tense and challenging situation and would probably slide away from how they're usually perceived on the show. Or not?
I may have been a little angsty too. This is set after Donna is fired, whereabouts I'm not sure. So, yes, probably inaccurate but don't hate me. Thanks guys.
Title: She, The Queen
Genres: Angst/Romance
Rating: K+
Couple: Harvey/Donna
Harvey's fingerprints litter the glass.
For once, the man lacks confidence. Slowly, gradually, miraculously, the fool is defeated by his own ego. Funny. Sickening, too. The confidence he continuously possesses is what makes him who he is. Fool: what an ironic name for someone who is feared due to his mind. The intelligent are powerful; physical strength is only a bonus.
Lately, the confidence has been absent. Jessica has noticed, and Harvey feels safer in thinking Mike is oblivious. Unfortunately, the boy (boy–– he isn't a boy anymore) has started to grow into someone Specter needs: himself. Harvey knows himself. Harvey knows he is dropping in confidence and it frightens him. The confidence he so requires to win is no longer available. It slipped through his fingers so quickly. So quickly he didn't even realise his heart shattered until hours later.
The shock was sudden; too much. It angers him he is a weak man without confidence.
Without her.
She, the Queen. A woman unlike any he has ever met before. Smooth, witty, smart, too much. She carries his confidence, unaware, completely unaware. As soon as she left, refused his help, Harvey didn't recognise himself anymore.
Now, it is no longer wanting her back. Now, he needs her back. Desperately.
At the moment, Harvey sits and waits in anticipation. Lacking confidence that she'll ever appear. He'll wait forever if he has to. Of course he'll never admit he'll wait for her. This is all for him. It's always been him. But Harvey has always been this fool. An idiot who kids himself; he knows, and so does she.
The cuts widen. He tightens his grip on the glass.
No one has ever had control over him, ever. Somehow, though, she has managed to lock him in chains. The sad thing is, he never wants to be released.
Harvey jumps in his seat when he hears a knock because he can't believe she came. Inhaling, the man leaves the glass of alcohol and heads for the door. His heart is pounding so fast he is afraid he'll surrender, beg her to return.
Gathering his wits he finally finds the courage to face her.
And she's there. Why does this shock him? Donna has always been there, throughout. Clinging to the handle Harvey tenses (he tenses because of her). Then he speaks, voice controlled, yet his eyes reveal the lie.
He greets her. Greets her. Exchanging pleasantries is useless. They're not enough.
Of course Donna asks why he wishes for her company. Isn't it obvious? Her fury bounces off him. It's hot and dangerous, peeling away whatever pride he has left–– if he actually has any after everything which has been thrown at him.
Shame enters. Guilt. Rotten frustration. Because, finally, the King is silenced.
There is nothing left to say.
The fool kisses her. It's soft, gentle, so unlike his nature. Despite being close, everything feels detached. Harvey can't find her anymore.
She doesn't respond. Or, at least, doesn't push him away. Donna has always hesitated, and after what she has done, she's bound to with anything which concerns him. She's a statue. Unmoving. Yet still touchable. Harvey tries to receive a message from her, anything. He pushes his mouth against hers, almost forcing the woman to do something.
There is this sudden moment where she kisses him back. It doesn't last long, but his heart explodes from the sheer passion received from her affections. He needs more. He needs more. Harvey has always needed. He doesn't want this to end, but unfortunately, Donna has the brains, the common sense, the ability to realise that–– No, this cannot be.
So she pulls away. Harvey expects her to look offended, and feel insulted. Yet when he catches her gaze, it's warm and loving. Somehow he removed the mask and here she is, in every beautiful colour. The need is in her eyes too but, unlike Harvey, she resists.
It's enough to prove to him she has always been better.
'You haven't shaved.'
She knows if he hasn't shaved, nothing is fine. She knows if he hasn't shaved, he hasn't been thinking about himself. And she knows the only person Harvey Specter thinks about, is himself.
The poor fool has been targeted, ripped to shreds and finally pried into. Donna succeeds in locking the chains, make them unbreakable and heavy on his wrists.
She is always on his mind.
'I lost my razor.'
'Oh.'
Harvey hopes she mocks him, and magically reveals a razor in her handbag. She doesn't though. Not tonight and for all he knows, not ever again. Whatever the case, Donna has every supply he requires; needs. And when she is unable to provide for him, Harvey can't breathe anymore.
This isn't right.
She leaves. Harvey expects her to, but not as swiftly. The man opens his mouth to speak but his throat is dry, and his voice is caught. The words he wants to say never escape his lips.
Come back to me.
Tonight, his dreams become nothing. There is nothing left to hold onto.