Chapter Three: Behind Closed Doors


"Do you wanna come in?"

"Yes. I do."

...

Harvey observes her lightly tinged lips as she sips her red wine right next to him on her couch. Licking the pungent taste from both, she rests her glass on her lap again. Each of her legs now comfortably curled under her weight thanks to the loose skirt of her Valentino blazer dress. Her ebony stilettos lay scattered on the floor beneath them as she mindlessly massages her left heel with her free hand. His suit jacket hangs on her coat rack, leaving him in his monogrammed shirt and loosened grey tie.

Donna quietly stares into space as the alcohol warms her veins, slowly but surely dissolving some of the Harvey-proof walls she had built to keep him out in recent years. Having added even more bricks in the last few months. Even though he always seemed to find a way through the cracks anyway. But more importantly, she never cared to mend those cracks to prevent him from doing so in the first place. Letting bits of him creep back into places they shouldn't over the years. After they'd overstepped the friendship line marked by her rule, with soft admissions and either anger, or alcohol-induced confessions of some sort.

"I think we're becoming alcoholics." she sighs shamefully, yet humorously all the same.

"You're only jus' realising that now?"

His speech is a little slower than usual. Not slurring his words exactly, but definitely not articulating them as well as his perfectly sober tongue would. A hiccup bubbles out of her throat and he smirks at the adorable sound before she replies.

"What do you mean?"

Her chuckle sounds more carefree than he's heard in a long while. He wonders when she decided to start diluting her laughter around him. Until he soon guesses that it was probably after the last time they were sat on this very couch together.

"We've been sharing drinks for years now." Harvey explains.

Donna lets her eyes roll a bit. "Yeah, I know." She sits up, only to fall back down on both calves again anyway. "But you have to admit..we've been taking to the bottle a lot more than usual lately," She lowers her chin at him, her long brow arching for his benefit as her glass finds her lips for the umpteenth time that night, "and for no good reason."

"Who needs a good reason to drink with a friend?"

A friend. Without realising, she straightens her spine and nips at her bottom lip, feeling her chest tighten at the word.

He may have admitted that he wants more, but she's still not sure what more means to him. It could be friends with benefits for all she knows. Too afraid to ask. To risk anything. Especially after her last risk almost cost her her job, and the most significant relationship she has left in her life. And possibly ever has had in her life.

All she knows for certain is that since he kissed her, he's been trying to woo her in the way he did when they first met. Oozing with cockiness and compliments until she eventually caved under his relentless confidence and charm. And look how that ended. Granted, that was before thirteen years worth of treasured memories, fierce loyalty and unwavering solidarity. But she still has her doubts. Her heart remembers how difficult the first few months working with him after they had slept together were. No matter how much the rest of her body is aching to forget right now. To jump into their uncharted waters all over again. Find out if she can swim after she's plunged head first.

But instead, she stays on dry land. Only dipping her toes in at the shoreline. For now.

"No one..but there's normally a reason with us," she inhales before sighing, "now we're just drinking for sport."

"And you claim not to be into sports.."

"Just sportsmen." She pops her eyes at him, taking another sip to break his gaze. One which makes her feel as though her A/C isn't working.

"Do hobby sports count?" He wears a smirk still, but his eyes are more solemn. The pair nobody else gets to see, but her. She laughs at his remark, knowing what he was getting at, before he responds to her somewhat flattered reaction. "Looks like I chose the wrong career then.."

Donna watches him swirl his wine, not daring to look at her. He agreed not to talk about them yet and here he is nudging the conversation towards exactly that.

But she invited him in. After she herself agreed to have drinks with him in her office. And now in her home. It would be misleading to entirely shut him down - or out - now.

"I didn't say sportsmen exclusively." she teases, voice low and luscious. "I mean, they have the stamina, but what they often lack is feeling."

He sits back against the grey couch, his smile wilting despite his efforts, suddenly less comfortable talking about her sex life. "Good to know."

"Sorry," Donna laughs lightly, bashfully almost, chin dipped as she gazes into her wine, fingers unconsciously caressing the glass. She pulls her head up again, bearing most of her top teeth when she grins in amusement, and slight embarrassment. "You're not Rachel."

"No," he smirks awkwardly, "I'm not."

Really, he would gladly be Rachel for her should she need someone to confide in. Just not when it comes to talking about other men getting what he wants most.

The corner of his eye catches her chest falling as she sits just a foot away. He hears her entering deep thought and waits until she's ready to voice what's on her mind. A courtesy he has learned from her over the years.

"I miss them." he hears finally, her soft voice making his heart feel paper thin.

He swallows down her words. And then the sudden change in atmosphere. Angling his body toward hers some more, his eyes slowly scan her features, his lids feeling as heavy as hers look.

"I miss them too."

As they secure a stare, his eyes are telling her something else. Something more. Her brain quickly begins to burn. A sweltering fire engulfing her thoughts, scorching her mind with the need to extinguish whatever it was that was enkindling between them. But what comes out of her mouth only fuels it even further. Igniting the spark like gas to flames.

"Not as much as I missed you, though." She lightly prods him with her elbow, her voice half sugar and half spice. As if she said it as a joke to lessen the worth of her statement, but meant every single word.

Harvey knits his brows. Now supporting his head with his arm that rests against the back of the sofa, wine in his right hand, mirroring her completely - subconsciously. He knows he doesn't have to ask for her to give him an answer. His confused expression almost sobers her up entirely, losing any sign of a smirk as she examines the chiseled contours of his face.

"When you were with her.." Donna whispers, so faintly that she wonders if she even said it, or if he even heard it. But his guilt-ridden expression seconds later tells her that he caught every word.

Watching his best-loved smile fade right before his eyes, he refuses to deny the fact that they had grown apart in the months he had spent growing close to the wrong woman.

His pupils devour her features, growing in size as they digest the sensuous sight before him, landing on her lips the longest until his darkened eyes absorb hers once more. Now noticeably blacker than when he left them.

He hears a clock mercilessly ticking away in the background. Making him feel like he was on a timer. Running out of days, hours, minutes and seconds to tell her everything he's ever wanted to tell her.

"I missed you too."

It's an apology and a testimony rolled into one. Soon accompanied by the perfect silence. One that would offer any normal couple the chance to act on such charged sentiments. But they're not any normal couple. Even if they say that they are. They don't know the meaning of the word.

However, they do know that they've had a lot to drink. But instead of 'I should go', this time he just smiles at her, reassuring her. His feet still planted firmly on her carpet. No abrupt exits tonight.

He inches in then, spiking her pulse rate by a few too many beats. His hand reaches out. But he just takes her wine glass, gently, before setting it on the coffee table alongside his. She feels relieved and disappointed at the same time. Her mind isn't ready, but it hasn't told her body that.

"Come here." he whispers hoarsely, his head motioning for her to join him as his back meets the couch again, neither needing to say another word on the matter that they know is behind them now.

His light command is paired with an outstretched left arm. But it's his soft smile that she finds most enticing. Sending her an irresistible invitation. One which she RSVP's by gravitating her body towards his.

She lays her crown in the crook of his neck. Her left arm finds his mid-frame as his own presses her body against him. Her right knee resting over his thigh, her left leg laying on her right while his other arm wraps over them too. Eventually, his palm finds the courage to run up and down her bicep. Slowly, softly, soothingly. Feeling his own touch resurrect goosebumps all over her otherwise smooth skin.

Apparently it really was always okay for them to hug now.

At a time where they should be breaking apart already, he tightens the hold. Inhaling her alluring aroma. A perfect blend of her shampoo, her perfume - and her. When he turns his torso towards her, his side presses against the couch cushions even further as they relax. Both their eyes soon falling shut. Giving in to fatigue, and giving up on pretense.

There's nobody else in the world that either of them would rather, or even want to, be comforted by like this. Acting like that's not true anymore isn't something either of them are interested in. Or have time for. So they simply let themselves touch, without thinking. And talk, without speaking.

The next few moments fill with a comfortable collage of breathing and shuffling as they naturally shift into a more horizontal state. And eventually drift into a more slumberous one. Her back to the couch. Her cheek to his chest. His warm palm resting on her pale skin as his own limb secures her body to his. Her digits delicately dancing down along his silky tie before they find the best place to lay, just under his ribs. He feels her left leg wedge in between both of his next. Then she feels them tighten around it. The serenity of this sudden connectivity outweighing the surrealness of the situation.

"We survived without them before, and we'll do it again." she hears, his firm jaw moving against her forehead and the threat of stubble lightly grazing her skin as sleep almost captures her.

Donna presses her lips together, thumb mindlessly stroking a rib, allowing herself to feel how domesticity with this man would treat her. Quite well, she finds.

"Just you and me." she whispers blindly, feeling his right digits slip through her silky copper locks in consistent strokes as she senses his lazy smile.

"Like always."

As they simultaneously succumb to the silence, he hears the ticking once more. But it's just background noise to him this time. He finally lets his subconscious fall victim to freckles and flames against white skin and whiter sheets. A fantasy that for once in his life, doesn't feel so unattainable.

.

.

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So I know that was a much shorter update than usual, but I haven't had time to finish the next chapter in full this week (hopefully before Suits is back this Wednesday) and I didn't wanna leave it on that cliffhanger for too long so I just decided to upload this scene on its own. Sorry to those who wanted something smutty here (Elle lol) but there's a certain way I want this fic to go which will be revealed in the next chapter, so that's why I'm being a Korsh haha. And also trying to remain true to Donna and her endless repression (which I promise to bring to an actual end soon).

Anyways, thank you all so much for the response on this fic it's been incredible, you are all amazing! Guests who I can't reply to: I see you, I love you too!

-E xx