In.
Out.
One.
Two.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Erratic.
Without tempo.
Lost. Confused…
And off she went again.
Counting under her breath.
One.
Two.
Thrust in.
Thrust out.
A strangled sob.
He must have heard her for he stopped.
"Donna?" he asks, sounding breathless. Concern lacing his silvery baritone.
She hides her face from him. Hoping the luscious red strands of her hair are able to mask her features.
"Donna" he asks again, "are you alright?"
And he searches her mouth for a kiss only to find that the saltiness of her tears has somehow meandered down to her lips.
Another sob escapes her and he feels her body tremble. Forgetting the passion he was feeling minutes ago he gently pushes her hair away and nudges her chin to look him in the eyes.
She can see the concern in the depths of his blue eyes and she closes her hazel ones to avoid displaying the pain and sadness that clouds them. His body, large, solid, warm...too warm, sweat-laden, too close yet so foreign.
Wishing they could stop, she could feel as the tears continue to flow. She couldn't hold them back and she couldn't control the sudden shivering that overtook her naked body.
"Sweetheart?" his voice became firmer yet full of concern.
He gathers himself up and quickly walks to the bathroom.
She can hear him about, toilet flushing probably discarding the used protection. But she feels too cold and exposed. She draws the soft cotton sheets up to cover her body as she curls up hoping the world would fade away. Hoping she was the one who could fade away…
He's wearing his pants and his shirt is open displaying his solid torso when he walks back to the bedroom then kneels next to the bed to look at her. Her eyes flutter open and through a kaleidoscope of tears she can see that his features are etched with worry.
"Talk to me Donna," he softly says and then his voice breaks, "did I hurt you?"
She doesn't want to distress him but words can't seem to form or find their way out, so she just shakes her head no.
He bows his head down and sighs before setting his gentle eyes on her again.
"Please… tell me what's wrong…" he pleads.
Warmth had slowly returned to her body, the shivering slowly subsiding. And although the tears continued to flow, she was able to swallow the lump of pain, worry and anxiety down her throat.
He thought he'd heard her say something and watched her blink in pain.
"What did you say sweetheart?"
His smooth words pierced through her soul but she knew that as much as it hurt, she had to let him know.
Clearing her throat, mouth dry, a crack in her voice she said, "I can't, I can't do this Thomas… I'm sorry….I can't..."
He lets out a breath, deflated. He had tried and he had lost. He knew he was taking a chance with his heart when he had set his eyes on this beautiful, intelligent woman. His instinct had warned him to be careful: that her heart, her soul, the very essence of her all was already taken. But the hopeful romantic in him had buried those ominous feelings. Yet deep down he knew. And then there were signs as of late… He had tried to ignore her restlessness the other night when he had picked her up at the firm. She had been different since. Had felt different…
And on top of that, the deal gone bad had soured their relationship. He didn't blame her but he knew she felt responsible. Question was, did she feel that her heart had been ripped out because of the difficult position she had been placed and the fact she had to divulge a firm secret to help him and his business, or was it because of him… He had known from the get go understood they had worked together for a long time and their friendship was something almost sacred to her. Friendship. Or was it? Could it be possible he had tried too hard to fool himself? The rustling of the bedsheets brought him back to this moment.
"I'm sorry, Thomas…" she softly whispered, anguish in her tone.
Gathering herself up, holding the soft cotton sheets close to her body, looking at him through the tears that continued to stream down her face, she softly said, "I hope you find someone who loves you the way you deserve… I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"
He nods and lets out a deep breath before looking at her. As he reaches out to cup her face she can hear his voice soft and honest, "I hope he sees what I see… I hope he's truly worthy of your love, your heart… He doesn't know what a lucky bastard he is!"
And with that he let's go and walks out of the room, leaving her alone. She can hear him gathering his things and she can feel more tears forming in her eyes. Feeling sad, forlorn and confused, she cocoons herself back into the bedsheets of the large queen-sized bed. She'd known from the very beginning that this didn't feel right. Thomas was a true gentleman, charming and wonderful. A sweet and warm soul that offered the distraction she so badly needed. A man so straight-laced and honest… Too honest? Maybe…
And that had been at the core of her despair. For her heart had broken when she realized what she had done to Harvey through Thomas. Knowing she had failed Harvey broke the remnants of her heart the more she thought about it. How could Thomas be enough? It had taken her time to understand that he would never be enough…
She heard the click of the front door as he exited her apartment and she sighed. Gathering her wits she got up and not caring that her body was in the nude, she began collecting the bedsheets. A sudden but resolute feeling flowing through her body as in chaotic motions she continued to add every single piece of the bedding on the floor at the foot of her bed. Throwing the last pillowcases into the pile, she stared at it for a minute before reaching for her soft, silky robe. In the kitchen, she searched for the tall garbage bags and ran back to her bedroom. Squeezing haphazardly all that had once been in a pile, she stepped out of her apartment and threw it all down the chute. As she walked back inside she somehow felt free, lighter. Walking into the bathroom, she stared at her features. The red, swollen eyes and the pallor on her features stared back at her. Reaching out to open the faucet she came to a decision.
She would make things right.
She would not hide.
She had to tell him.
She looked at herself in the mirror again.
Her heart suddenly speeding up, as though it wanted to burst at the seams.
She just hoped he would forgive her…
That he felt the same…
And an anguished exhale left her lips.
She's under his skin.
He can smell her.
Feel her.
She's everywhere.
In the taste of the Scotch on his lips... his tongue.
The melodic rhythm of the music filtering the air, a swift reminder of her.
She had filtered into every fiber of his being, into every crevice of his mind, as though she had permeated the blood that coursed through him with every pulsing beat of his heart.
He had never felt so helpless and forlorn. Harvey Specter had always relied on his own strength.
When his mom had broken up the place he knew as home, he survived.
How had he managed as a child back then? He'd wondered about that plenty of times...
And when his father passed away, he endured it.
When he fought teeth and bone in court, he thrived.
When enemies attacked him and all that was his, he persevered.
Because she had faith in him.
Because he knew she was always there. Next to him.
Always.
By his side…
He brings the glass of Scotch to his mouth and allows the liquid to burn in it before swallowing it in a single gulp.
And now it is all gone.
What they had… gone.
And his heart feels hollow.
He slowly gets up and grabs his suit jacket. He doesn't bother rearranging his tie which had become undone sometime through the night. Glancing down at his phone, he notices that it is close to 3 a.m. Incidentally, he also notices there are no texts from her nor a single missed call. And it shakes him again, the realization that they would no longer share those quiet, special moments anymore: no more secret rituals, no more banter or looks that would say more than words would ever do… no more late night calls. The nights for reminiscing under the starless New York sky at the rooftop, gone. As so are those quiet ones for sharing a glass of his favorite Scotch with her in his office.
She had chosen Thomas over the Firm.
She had chosen Thomas over him.
Literally and figuratively…
And like everyone else he had dared hold close to his heart, she had abandoned him.
He's on his own.
Alone.
And his spirit is drained. Gone. She took it with her that night.
And even though, with tears in her eyes and a broken voice, she had claimed to have faith in him, he feels unsure.
Only Donna Paulsen could do that to his already troubled and trampled heart.
Only she holds that power over him.
She's the only that could ever make it right again.
But she's gone...
Walking down the empty hallways of what had been his home for the past fourteen years, he does so with the assured steps of a powerful man. He hits the elevator button allowing the machinery to take him down the fifty floors to the lobby and to the awaiting car.
He knows that he has risen to the cusp of success. His name means something within his circle: the best closer in the city, influential, prosperous, his commanding presence and his intelligent spirit almost of a gifted nature.
But deep down he knows he is about to be stripped of that power, of this life, of this firm, of his dignity.
Yet, for once, he doesn't care about what will happen to him…
As he steps out of ZSLWW and heads towards Ray's car, he realizes that indeed he doesn't really care anymore.
They could strip him of his license, his honor, his home.
Like a wounded animal, the last of his strength reserved to fight teeth and bone for her and only her.
They could do with his carcass whatever they wanted but he would not allow anyone to touch her.
Nothing else matters.
As long as she is safe.
As long as she remains unscathed from this mess...
Even if the ultimate sacrifice meant he has to keep her at arm's length throughout the process.
Even if that means he will be on his own.
Isolated.
Uprooted.
Removed.
Only his heart dares speak what his mind fights to conceal, what his mouth refuses to profess.
He doesn't knows who he is without her.
He doesn't want to know who he will become without her.
And his heart constricts at the thought...
"Where to Harvey?" Ray's voice breaks through his introspection.
"Home." His voice sounds hollow even to him, and he lets his head fall heavily against the backrest.
He feels his life leave him in an exhale.
Harvey lets the crisp breeze take his thoughts, his tears, his fears away. The distant city sounds drowned by the emptiness that threatens to engulf him whole. As he sat in one of the balcony chairs, he raised the glass to his lips and savored the strong taste of the Scotch. The rich flavor takes his senses back to that night so many years ago. A night he will never forget. The night when he got lost in meandering feminine curves, deep oceans of red splayed on the pillows, milky delicate skin so very soft, inviting, and succulent lips he could never forget. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He can still taste the tangy sweetness of the strawberries and cream mixed in with that essence that is unique to her.
Breathing out, he allows his mind to indulge on those memories for one more minute, no more no less. After all, she had made him promise to forget and he always follows through on his word when it comes to her. But even if he consciously wants to forget, the visions always come to vividly to him; ever present even when he chooses to lose himself in other women. The memories assaulting, delighting, haunting, confusing him. Just like her, they permeate every cell in his body and into every subconscious thought; stealthily seeping even in his deep moments of slumber…
Donna steps out of the cab and nervously fixes the light scarf around her neck. Ignoring the cool breeze that plays with the silky strands of her hair, she takes a step and opens the glass doors leading up to the lobby. The front desk attendant glances at her and smiles.
"Good morning, Ms. Paulsen," he waves, not at all surprised to see her at such early hours. He was used to seeing the redhead come and go; Harvey Specter had always kept her name on the guest list. Names had been added and erased over the years but hers remains untouched at the top.
"Good morning, George," she directs a smile at the young man as she punches the elevator button.
Stepping into the silver contraption, she hangs on to her expensive handbag for dear life. She observes the bright numbers, her heartbeat matching the swift increase of the digital lights. Her mouth is suddenly dry and her hands begin to shake almost imperceptibly and she increases the grip on her purse handles as the doors slide open. Her usually assured steps are lacking, and she mostly traipses down her path towards Harvey's.
Another doubt assaults her as she comes face to face with the door. Should she knock or use her key to let herself in? She slides her phone out of the coat pocket and looks at the time. Closing her eyes she takes a deep breath and allows her inner gut to decide for her. She had relied on her intuition all her life and it seldom failed her. The only times it ever did being when it came to Harvey Specter. He holds a power over her that cripples her discernment and feeds her self-doubt. Funny because it only proves to be so when it came to their personal lives. Never at a professional level, much less at the firm. Well… except for this time. Their lines so blurred that it made it difficult for her to extricate what was personal and what was work-related.
Taking out the keyring she makes up her mind. Let it be what it will be…
She turns the key and with hesitation, a foreign concept to her, she opens the door.
Harvey opens his eyes, his basic instincts kicking in as he senses her presence before actually setting eyes on her. The luxurious scent of her skin wafting all the way to his nose through the open balcony door. The characteristic sounds that are so Donna reaching his ears. He can hear her placing her handbag on the countertop followed by the keyring. It's only the quiet that follows that makes him consider if it had been nothing but an illusion. Just the product of his wishful thinking. And he feels his heart clench in pain.
His ears suddenly perk up when the quiet is broken by the distinctive sound of her walk. He can easily visualize in his mind that sexy stride of hers which could only be accentuated by the click of high heels. A rhythmic sound that comes to a sudden halt at the spot where the lavish hardwood transforms to rough gray concrete floors. His hand grips the glass tightly, and almost forgetting how to breathe, he waits.
"Harvey?" he can hear the uncertainty in her voice as she asks for his attention. Letting the air fill his lungs, he moves his head to the side, silently letting her know he had heard her.
Her step is hesitant as she crosses the short distance to his side. He remains sitting down, allowing his eyes to focus once more on the glass. She feels unsure and fidgets with her hands while she ventures looking down at him briefly.
"Harvey?" she asks again.
"Donna" his voice holds a tired note. And as though changing his mind, he sighs and looks up at her, "would you like a drink?"
She frowns then shakes her head and instead reaches out for the glass that's still firmly held in his hand. She gently grasps it from him and takes a small sip, then returns it. He raises his left eyebrow, the unique set of moles adding to the questioning look on his face. She shrugs and chances a small nervous smile. He shakes his head and the ghost of one teases his own lips.
"What are you doing here, Donna?" he suddenly asks and she can hear the vulnerability hidden within the roughness of his voice.
"A lot was left unsaid" she softly answers back. Digging her hands into the coat pockets she turns to gaze at the myriad of city lights in the distance. "I thought maybe we could talk about it… Plus, I finally listened to the voicemail you left a few days ago...so here I am!"
Harvey lets out a deep sigh and clears his throat, "please Donna, it's almost four in the morning. Don't make complicated things seem simple…"
She good-naturedly scoffs at him, "says the man who enjoys making simple things complicated."
He gives her his characteristic side glance with a splash of annoyance but doesn't dispute her answer. Instead he closes his eyes and leans back against the chair. If there is one thing he knows about Donna Paulsen it's that she never backs out of a discussion. And for once, he didn't feel like backing out of one as well. Opening his eyes and settling them on her beautiful face he says, "ok Donna, let's talk…"
She nods and shuffles her feet nervously. "On second thought, I think I could do with a drink," she tells him and a shiver runs down her body. Harvey gets off the chair and ever the gentleman, points towards the balcony door, prompting her to walk into the living room.
The soft lights and the fireplace radiating in the background keeps the room slightly illuminated and warm. Harvey serves three fingers of Scotch in a fresh tumbler and hands it off to Donna who had used the time to take off her coat. He takes it and uses that brief moment to admire her refined beauty. She had been using a lot of dark trendy dresses the past few weeks so it surprises him to see she's wearing a blush sweetheart cady dress. The same one she had worn the night when he had decided to fly to Chicago and help Jessica. The same night Mike, Rachel, Louis and her had promised they would always have his back. He had meant to tell her she looked beautiful then but he never got the chance. Just like he didn't get to do so many other times…
She licks her lips and looks at him then down at the tumbler in her hands. "I left my resignation on top of Louis' desk last night." Her voice comes in a rushed whisper.
He frowns and gives her a questioning look.
"I figure if you're going to lose it all, so should I," she offers as an explanation.
"Donna…" his voice comes rough, the pain transferring to the short syllables in her name.
"I know you wanted to protect me Harvey. You always do," she softly says and he can see the tears beginning to form in her eyes.
He lets out a sigh and shakes his head as he says, "I don't want you to quit your job. I don't want you to do this out of pity or because you feel that you owe me…"
"No Harvey," she quickly responds, a desperate note in her voice. She places the tumbler down on the table and doesn't fail to notice the small cactus sitting in the middle of it. It is still alive. Her breath catches then and she realizes that this man standing before her holds so much respect and love towards her. Has she been this blind?
"I'm not doing this out of pity or because I owe you anything..." she desperately says as she moves to stand before him. A darkness suddenly clouds his gaze and disbelief settles on his handsome face. Meanwhile, the flicker of flames reflect on the glassy tears that had begun to form on his eyes. And her heart breaks for him.
For them.
For all those times where they left words unsaid.
For all the love they have yet to share.
"Harvey," her voice sounds strangled yet honest. "Can't you see that you mean everything to... me?"
She reaches out and places her right hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her directly in the eye. "And I am not giving up on you!...I am not going to abandon you Harvey. I truly meant it when I said that if there's one person I have faith in the world, it is you!"
Tears begin to stream down her face and a quiet whisper leaves her lips, "Because I love you….I've always loved you, Harvey."
The words strike him like a bolt of lighting.
This gorgeous intelligent, precious creature standing before him is spilling her innermost emotions.
She believes in him.
She has faith in him.
She loves him.
And his heart feels like it's ready to implode.
He can feel the sweet rush of her breath on his lips, the delicate touch of her fingers on his jaw and he swallows hard.
His voice sounds foreign and he struggles to say the guy's name, "Thomas?"
She blinks her tears away and slides her left hand to his chest.
"It's over…. I broke up with him."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm not," she softly says, "when he refused to testify in your favor…it, it broke my heart."
More tears stream down her face. Her hazel eyes, pure honesty, convince him as she says, "and it helped me realize that it's you…"
Her voice breaking as she delicately caresses his cheek with her finger.
"It has always been you."
Looking into her eyes, Harvey realizes the depth of love this woman has for him. And the thick layer of ice that had once enveloped his heart begins to melt away. Her love stripping away the old Harvey Specter: arrogant, self-sufficient, a hard-ass, as she had once described him.
He had always led his life through logic and reason.
Success and triumph his main goals.
The nature of a hunter running through his veins.
Fight. Conquer.
Argue. Win.
Debate. Achieve.
And back to the beginning. Like an endless cycle of everything and nothingness.
And it had been like that until the day in which he met her. His life changing from the very minute she had introduced herself with a wide smile and a shake of her delicate hand. From that instant, Donna Paulsen had managed to paint his dark skies with hope and scare away the ghosts from his past. Her refreshing, hopeful spirit blowing away his fears and doubts.
She is here.
Right now.
In this moment.
Trusting and opening her heart and soul to him. And he realizes in a split second that she is his guiding star. The one person who will lead him through this vast ocean of darkness and confusion that is life. And without hesitation, bringing both his hands to her face, he clashes his lips against hers.
Hungry.
Needy.
Eager.
Eager to taste, to have, to hold.
He feels her left hand caressing his neck, nails raking through the short strands of hair. While simultaneously, her right hand slides down his chest to rest over his heart which seems to be thumping like a wild animal. Her mouth tastes of Scotch and that sweetness that is pure, sheer Donna. His tongue collides with hers, a moist and sensual tangling of erotic delicacy. Heavy breathing and bodies as close as they can be blending in with the passion and love that has taken over them.
Momentarily separating to take a breath, he leans his forehead against hers. Gasping and with excitement coursing through his veins, he gently touches her lower lip with his thumb. He loves that it's swollen and pink from his voracious kisses. As though he had marked her as his own. He then searches for her eyes. And when she meets his, he is certain of the emotions he feels.
"I love you Donna," his deep voice has such sweetness in it and she closes her eyes in delight. "Look at me," he gently commands and she does through a fluttering of thick eyelashes that almost hypnotize him.
"I'm yours…" he says with the same certainty that takes over him when he rules the courtroom, "my heart, my soul, my all are yours." And it's the sincerity in his voice that disarms her when he adds, "I want to be your more, forever..."
And it's her turn to dive into him. Her love pouring through her lips as they fuse with his in another sensual dance. Their hearts had done a slow, blind waltz, unknowingly searching for each other through the years. For so long. And tonight they are both equally ready to let their hearts collide and create love in an artform that is essentially their own.
Unique.
Wonderful.
A concept so infinite and inherently theirs.
The soft morning light timidly filters through the dense city clouds. Playfully touching here and there. A slight brush of radiance over tangled sheets, soft pillows and their bare skin. He can't help but marvel at her beauty under the lights and shadows of dawn. Her mouth bright pink and still puffed from the many kisses he had indulged in. Soft breaths coming out in delicate puffs. Her eyes closed and lashes slightly flickering in her sleep. Her body close to his, warming his skin, his heart, his soul. And he still can't believe his luck.
Laying down on his side he keeps a watchful eye on her. Not tiring of her beauty and discovering a new pattern here and there in those enchanting freckles of hers. He lightly touches her luscious red hair, delighting on the softness of the strands as they slip through his fingers. Red hair that is currently fanned out, hypnotizing him as much as it had that first time long ago and during every day of his life.
She stirs then and he continues to admire this beautiful creature as she is slowly rousing from slumber. Her eyes squinting, lazily gazing at him while a shy smile paints her lips.
"Good morning sleepyhead," his voice sounds gravelly from both sleep and arousal. She playfully touches his chest and hides her face in the crook of his arm.
He leans down to kiss her forehead and reaching down to raise her chin he kisses her mouth. The kiss is initially tender with a languid passion that soon enough becomes more carnal and dauntless. Their bodies come closer and they can both feel the warmth that emanates from their skin. Sliding her hand to his neck, in her characteristic touch, she rakes her nails over his skin and down his shoulder. Goosebumps of pleasure form over his skin and she breaks away from his mouth.
She offers him her bright Donna smile, her eyes playfully squinting as she looks him in the eye.
"Good morning to you, too," she looks down his midsection and he smirks.
"You realize that this," he says as he points down, "is all your fault, right?"
Donna laughs as she lays back against the soft pillows, her left arm thrown over her forehead and shakes her head. Pointing a finger at him then at her and then back at him, she scolds, "This is as much your fault as it is mine!"
Leaning his head sideways, he continues to smile as both his hands reach under the sheets and get a hold of her waist.
"Come here," he whispers and feels her facetiously acquiesce as he brings her impossibly close to his side.
Donna keeps looking into his eyes, lost for a minute there, in that soft chocolatey brown deliciousness of his gaze. She can't believe she'd almost given up this, on them.
She'd been going about in a rush.
Blind in her haste.
Searching in vain, lost in a dark labyrinth.
Trying to find a different life that was not hers.
All a lie.
Yet, her heart had known it all along. The only one that seemed to know the truth, a truth she had tried to ignore for so long. And she knows that with Harvey she's ready to jump without a safety net. Ready to freefall knowing that he would always be there for her. His arms always ready to catch her.
To hold her.
To love her.
Harvey reaches out and slides a lost strand of red hair behind her ear. His voice soft and warm and tender, he asks, "What's going on in that mind of yours?"
Her mind snaps back to the moment and offers him an affectionate smile. Kissing his lips with loving care she whispers back, "Just thinking about how much I love you, Harvey."
"I love you, too, Donna." And they get lost in another delicious kiss.
They both know that this is the time for them to let go off their fears, to let go off the past. The present calling them to live and enjoy this precious moment.
The future, a subject unknown.
Realizing that life belongs only to those that truly embrace it, they hold on tight to each other. And like trapeze artists, they both jump into the incredible journey that is life.
A/N: Hi everyone! So, I've written fanfic before but this is my first for the Darvey Fandom. I hope you liked it and stayed true to the characters (super nervous!). I would like to thank Blue for all her kind encouragement and friendship. I hope all those late nights listening to me go on and on about how nervous I was about writing Darvey paid off - Luv ya tons, B! I'd love your thoughts if you would like to leave a review...Please be gentle! My heart can barely take in any more pain (haha...seriously, though!)