He hadn't noticed it yesterday, mostly because in the morning he didn't brush his teeth here and at night he was so exhausted he rushed through the motions, eager to curl up around Donna's body and follow her to sleep. But now he's definitely noticing.
Thomas' toothbrush, sitting next to Donna's on the sink.
Truthfully, he doesn't know if it's Thomas', but there are two toothbrushes in the holder and Donna only needs one of them. And considering that until last night she was technically still in a relationship with the guy...
It's weird. Donna didn't hesitate to let him in two nights ago, she didn't hesitate to make it clear that she wants this and she's happy, and he knows they share a bond they've never shared with anyone else, that Donna feels the same way. Still, there's a toothbrush belonging to another man in Donna's bathroom, same as there may be clothes of his in her closet or things of his around her apartment.
It wasn't casual between them, and the notion sits uncomfortably in his gut. It's not jealousy, not really, though he's never been thrilled to see Donna with other men. It's the fact that she was serious about this guy. That she really did like him, like she told him herself just a few short days ago. She was creating something with him, something more important than sex or temporary companionship. It may not have lasted very long but she saw a future in it, and so did the guy.
It's uncomfortable to think of Donna loving someone else. To think of some other man waking up in her arms, brushing his teeth in her bathroom, commandeering her frying pan to make French toasts for breakfast like she likes, waiting for her at her place after work, taking charge of her remote control like he owns it. It's uncomfortable to think of Donna building a life with someone else, a life that could very well have worked out if things had gone just a tiny little bit differently at that hearing.
It reminds him of something Donna told him years ago: she had to live her life. And it's pretty clear to him now that she is the only life he wants, but up until two fucking days ago her life barely involved him. Instead, it involved someone else; someone kind and successful and honest, someone Donna told him she really liked. Someone who clearly didn't take fifteen fucking years to tell her how he felt, considering they were together for a short time and the guy's stuff was already at her place. Someone who could have made her really happy for a really long time.
This toothbrush, this blue and green, plastic thing is a bigger symbol of commitment than Harvey had ever been able to offer her, and he's not in the habit of feeling lesser than but he does now. He feels lesser than Thomas for not seeing what was right in front of his face for so long, he feels lesser than Thomas for having known Donna infinitely more and longer than him and yet having nothing to show for it, not even a toothbrush. And Donna is with him, and she picked him, but she'd picked Thomas before that, and that makes him feel lesser than too.
He reminds himself that she broke up with the guy without batting an eye and that she reassured him she was fine with that, but the memory somehow makes things a bit worse, because now he's staring at the toothbrush and thinking that this toothbrush belonged to a man - a good man - whom Harvey had completely disregarded two nights ago. He doesn't regret coming over, and he would have done a lot worse if it meant being with Donna like he is now, but the fact is that when he did come over she was seeing someone else, and what does that say about him. He told her he never would have made a move if he'd known they were still together but that's not true, because he had no reason to think they weren't together, and he didn't care anyway, didn't even think about it.
He keeps staring at that thing and it's making him feel a lot more than an inanimate object should have a right to. He can barely distinguish his thoughts anymore, all of them a mess of regret and insecurity, tied together by the underlying notion that he really could have lost her for good. It's just a toothbrush, but it could have easily been all the man's clothes, all his things, a new house, a full life. He was living on borrowed time and he didn't even know it, and there's relief in the fact that it worked out in the end, they're together, but there's also a deep, paralyzing fear of what his life would look like if it hadn't.
Donna chooses that time to make her appearance, walking briskly into her bedroom and coming to a halt by the bathroom door.
"You ready to go?" she asks, sounding a bit surprised to find him just standing there.
"Uh, yeah," he shakes himself off, forcing his eyes away from the damn toothbrush.
"Are you okay?" she frowns a little.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he tries to project confidence, but he's still unsettled and it probably shows, because Donna steps closer to him.
"Harvey, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," he shakes his head briefly but she doesn't buy it.
"Harvey," she takes another step closer, hands coming to rest on his forearms, as much to offer support as to prevent him from running from her.
He sighs defeatedly, "It really is nothing. I just noticed there's an extra toothbrush on the sink."
Donna's eyes widen, shifting to the counter to confirm his statement. "Oh," she says, sounding a little embarrassed.
"It's okay, I just hadn't seen it yesterday. It's no big deal," he tries to argue, to get this conversation over with so they can go to work and he can forget all about this.
"I... guess I forgot to throw it away yesterday," she offers as explanation.
"It's fine, Donna."
"Do you want to talk about it?" she presses cautiously.
"There's nothing to talk about. You two were in a relationship, it was going well, you're both adults, it makes sense," he shrugs, the movement coming out jerky, betraying the casualty he tried to infuse in the motion but absolutely doesn't feel.
"It was going well, but it's over now, and I'm glad it is," she tells him gently, her voice a touch lower to show she's serious.
"I know," he mumbles, looking down.
"I chose you, and I still would have chosen you even if he had been... living here," Donna continues, taking the final step to eliminate the space between them, their fronts touching and filling him with warmth. His hands reach for her waist instinctively, as if now that they know they can do that they never want to stop.
"I know," he bites the inside of his lip and nods minutely, feeling suddenly very foolish for his concerns and insecurities.
"I want to share my life with you, Harvey," she finally says, her palms skating up his biceps before her arms wrap around his neck. "I always have. All the others, they were just placeholders."
Her voice is soft but her words pierce his chest and go straight to his core. He knows exactly what she means; he thought he'd been serious about other women before, but now he knows they never would have lived up to this. He only wants to share his life with her too, and as important as the others had seemed at the time, he's come to realize that they never really stood a chance.
"Yeah, okay," he nods again, finally finding her gaze, and she looks deeply into his eyes, reassuring him silently of what she just said, before leaning in to capture his lips in a chaste kiss.
They part and take a moment to just look at each other again, taking time to internalize once again that their relationship has finally taken the turn they had both been waiting for, knowingly or not, for so long.
"What do you say we stop by a drugstore after work and buy a few essentials, for both of us?" she offers tenderly, her face only far enough so she can hold his gaze and impress upon him the real offer behind her words.
"I'd like that," he replies quietly, voice coming out a bit choked up because he's never done this before but he wants to, he really wants to. His fingers tighten around her waist and he pulls her back in, letting her lips erase all the doubts from his mind. He knows he's still not good at this, knows he still has a long way to go, but he also knows she'll be there next to him every step of the way, reassuring him of her feelings and of their future.
"We should go, we're gonna be late," he smiles a little after their kiss is done, releasing her from his grip.
"Just one last thing," she says, and detangles herself from him, stepping around him.
He watches curiously as she walks up to the sink and takes the blue and green toothbrush, bringing it across the bathroom to the trash. She stops, looks at him, calm and sure, steps on the pedal and drops the toothbrush unceremoniously. The move is simple, but it's loaded with meaning, and it brings him a surprising sense of peace, of confidence in himself, in her, in her choice. She may have had a future with Thomas once, but he's her future now, and she's his. There is no more space for anyone else, and that's exactly how he wants it.
He smiles proudly at her as she steps up to his side and takes his hand, mirroring his grin and giving him one final look before leading the way so that they can finally go to work.