A/N: So here's the second and last part of the story! That wasn't meant to be a masterpiece guys, just something short and sweet for Darvey fans to enjoy between two cups of coffee while waiting for season six to start! Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment if you read, it makes me happy!
"So Mitchell, where's your painting?" asked Donna touching his arm, looking around.
Mitchell's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Guess babe!"
Ugh! BABE. Did he just called her babe?
Harvey observed Donna and saw her frowned. It was obvious to him that she was trying to show him how okay she was, how over him and over 'whatever they had' she was. She played with the rim of her glass, avoiding looking at Harvey. She was right. He was jealous, really jealous because he wanted her 'that way', but not exactly like her and that Mitchell guy, because they would never be that awkward: Donna was his best friend, the one who completes him, the one he turns to whenever he needs someone to show him the way. She isn't some 'babe', she's Donna. It's a name and a title in one and Mitchell should have known that. Harvey didn't want Donna to be someone's 'babe'. He wanted her to share everything with him. Harvey had made many mistakes in his life…Was it too little too late to finally make things right? He finally felt like he was ready to find out…
"Give me a hint Mitch, I don't like guessing." Her voice was sharp but she touched Mitchell's arm again. They were touching way too much, Harvey hated that.
Mitchell cracked a smile because clearly he was an idiot who couldn't read Donna like Harvey could. "Okay... a hint. It's YOU."
Donna glanced around the room...but Harvey slowly turned around and spotted the orange…'splat'? There wasn't any other way to describe it: SPLAT- on the ugly painting behind him. What he saw couldn't make him any happier.
"Hey it's you!" Harvey pointed at the orange splat on the painting, trying not to smile too brightly.
Donna looked paralyzed.
Meanwhile, Mitchell was beaming. "Say something babe. You like it?'
She opened her mouth to speak then stopped. Her eyes scrutinized the painting.
She gestured at the painting and then said after a moment, visibly confused: "It's…"I'm sorry Mitch, I can't see it. Explain. You've never done something so...so... abstract. Why all those colors?"
"It's how remote you seem sometimes after we have…" Mitchell lowered his voice. "Donna you know, we talked about this. The colors are all the confusing feelings you seem to be having after we... But HEY! you are still like fire babe," he said giving her a kiss on the cheek.
Her eyes were wide, still looking at the painting, puzzled. "Magical, I have no words" she muttered before drinking the rest of her glass. "Mitch, could you get me another drink while I look at it?"
Harvey couldn't help but smile: even the best actress in Manhattan wasn't able to fake this one.
"That's the ugliest painting I've ever seen," mumbled Donna after Mitchell left.
Harvey was standing next to her, close, he could feel her arm brushing against his.
"Before you say anything Harvey. Yes I saw other paintings he did .And NO they weren't as bad as this one."
"Why are you with him Donna?"
She didn't answer right away. He wondered if she considered lying or being straightforward.
"He has other talents," she said with a quirky smile.
He sighed. "I didn't need to know that, you know that's not what I meant," he said very seriously. Just thinking she had sex with that guy made Harvey's blood boiled.
After standing still for a minute too long, she continued.
"I'm with him because I can't spend my whole life waiting for something that isn't there, Harvey." He felt a lurch deep inside and lifted his dark eyes to really look at her.
"Donna, what if it is there?" He would have liked to tell her how it has always been there, how he had figured out he was just scared and that all that he ever wanted was her to be happy and that's why he had always subtracted himself from the equation.
"I think it is pretty easy for you to say it is there now that I am with someone," she said flatly but looking straight at him.
"Donna." He surprised himself by threading his fingers discreetly between her digits. She didn't remove her hand from his grasp even if he felt her fingers twitched. Standing next to each other, not moving, except for their hands touching, he continued. "I think you know you were waiting because it was always there and what we have is... different."
She just smiled quietly at him and looked at the painting in front of them. He finally felt her hand squeezing his hand and with that, the last remains of the fortress he had built around his heart crumbled.
"Donna, you know to me you are everything."
She licked her lips and he moved slowly, looking at her lips, he really wanted to kiss her, even in this room full of people, for him she always was the most important woman in any room anyway. He was inches from her face, his heart beating fast, when from the corner of his eyes he saw Mitchell coming back. He dropped her hand and rapidly put distance between them.
"I just sold my painting!" Mitchell almost yelled, throwing his arms in the air in victory totally oblivious to what he had just interrupted.
"To whom?" Donna asked, her voice strangled by emotion, and only Harvey knew it wasn't from the happiness of her boyfriend selling an ugly painting.
"A tall, very well-dressed woman!" Mitchell said almost heart-eyed.
"Mitchell can we talk?" Donna said taking his arm.
"What took you so long?" Harvey said, stretching his legs before getting up. He had been waiting for Donna, sitting in front of her apartment his head on the door, for the past two hours.
She is trying to keep her mouth straight but a smile is edging out. "What are you whining about? You waited a few hours! How much time did I give you?" She turned the key and opened the door, walking into her apartment.
He looked at her and held her gaze for a moment. "Thirteen years, seven months and...a few days." She looked transfixed and out of words, standing in her apartment as he walked towards the couch. "And thank you for that, for everything," he added.
She removed her coat, hung it and sat on the couch, silently.
"But let's rewind a bit," he said as he removed his jacket and put it on the armrest. He then sat next to her.
"Rewind? What do you mean?" She folded her legs under her.
He turned around slowly and looked at her. She was beautiful. Even more beautiful than she was when they first met.
"If anybody else ever loses faith in me, it doesn't matter but with you, it's different."
This time, all he wanted was to stay. He bathed in her gaze, he saw all the love she always had for him. He still felt very unworthy but thought he was less fucked up, finally.
His hands cupped her face and he surveyed her for a moment, silently. She exhaled, her eyes soft, and her hands reached for his neck, pulling him, not wanting to wait any longer for that kiss.
It escalated pretty quickly, the chemistry undeniable. She responded to his touch by climbing on him after only a few minutes, moaning his name against his mouth as he unzipped her dress. There was nothing slow or classy about the way they were making love after all this wait. It crossed his mind that it they might have waited too long when he fumbled with the damn dress that was clinging to her body while he tried to pass it over her head. Then, it was her who swore at his belt, and they silently agreed to give up on their plan of removing all pieces of clothing. He felt her hands all over him, probably like she felt his hands smoothing all the curves of her perfect body, and she sat on top of him, untying her hair to let it fall down over her naked shoulders. He probably was smiling like an idiot as he twisted her red locks around his fingers but her hands were low, touching him in places that made him lose his mind. He flipped her on her back, pinning her arms above her head and pushing inside her. He wished it would have lasted forever but he was already melting, just feeling against the skin of his face how he made her breath hitching in her throat.
Her head was buried in his neck and he had never felt more content than in this moment, both holding on to each other on that couch.
"Wow I love you…" he said.
He said it not because he had to but because it was true. He was still caressing her skin, sure he would never get tired of touching her.
"Because of the sex?" She murmured.
She rolled on her side to look at him, and he pushed himself on his arm, to look at her, his other hand still on her back, holding her. "Hey. It was great. But I mean this. THIS is great."
She looked puzzled. "This? You mean now?"
"Yes. The after… I feel like...like this is RIGHT."
For the first time in his life he felt he could be GOOD, and that everything could be GREAT. It wasn't a feeling he was used to, he would have to get used to it. Happiness always had been within reach but yet, that word never had been part of his vocabulary.
"...Donna I feel happy. Really happy. And I don't want to leave."
He woke up in her bed, everything surrounding him being oddly familiar because everything about her always felt like home to him.
He heard someone knocking on the door.
He wondered if they should keep it low and not tell people about their relationship. But he figured that when coworkers would see how happy he is, they would figure it out soon enough.
Also, he couldn't imagine how he would be able not to steal a few kisses from her at the office.
So he reluctantly sat in the bed and got up, quickly putting on his pants while the knocks on the door insistently became louder.
He opened the door wishing it wasn't Mitchell and to his greatest surprise it was…
Mitchell's painting.
"What the…"
"It's a delivery. From Miss Pearson," spoke a loud voice belonging to the man holding the painting.
He was intrigued.
He signed the form, dragged the ugly painting inside and put it against one of the walls in the living room. He saw a note attached.
"Dear Harvey and Donna,
You two are the most stubborn and slow people I've ever met.
But I am glad I invited Mitchell and then kept him away so the two of you would talk about your shit. It seems like my plan worked.
I'm not keeping this ugly painting at my house and this is definitely not going on any of the firm's walls.
Do what the hell you want with it.
Jessica
PS: Don't show it to Louis, I have a feeling he would like it."