Sorry about the long wait, everyone! I meant to post the next chapter much faster but then things got busy with work and I spent the last week listening to Red TV over and over and over again.
Anyway, here's the next chapter:
««« ×ǁ DEVIATION ǁ× »»»
The next day, he doesn't see much of her and it's about as rough as he was anticipating. Their only interaction is about an hour into the day when he swings by her new desk for the first time, his heart practically in his stomach from the sight of her sitting somewhere that isn't outside his office.
They smile and make friendly chit chat, as if this is completely normal – as if she hasn't just left his desk, as if he wasn't inside of her just a short eight hours ago. Still, neither one of them mentions the elephant in the room. Instead, he presents her with a small potted succulent he bought for her desk.
He stopped at the florist to buy her some flowers, hoping she would appreciate the gesture. But as soon as he stepped inside and saw the row of succulents sitting by the window, he found his feet carrying him right over.
Since she once bought him a cactus, he figured the succulent would be appropriate. Plus, when he picked out his favorite one, the Graptoveria, the salesclerk told him it was actually called a "Debbie."
When he relays that fact to Donna, she smiles and laughs and it feels good, like for a moment, his whole world isn't falling apart and nothing at all has changed between them.
But, then Jessica finds him and pulls him away for a meeting, and he doesn't see her for the rest of the day.
He thinks about her all day long, though. Every time he looks up from his desk, he expects to see that familiar red hair, but instead, he's confronted with the sight of someone else sitting where she has always been. He loses his breath every single time – his stomach in his throat and that feeling of panic rushing through him.
He's not sure how he even makes it through the day.
The evening is infinitely worse, though.
On his way out, he takes the long way, hoping to find Donna still at her desk. He's already planning what he's going to say – hoping to strike up a conversation, casually ask her how her day went, pray that she's realized the grass isn't greener.
But, when he makes his way past Louis's office, she's in there with him – the two of them smiling and laughing and sharing a drink, just like they used to do.
It hurts more than he could ever admit.
He has court in the morning, but he doesn't care – he drinks himself to sleep anyway.
Although, he still ends up spending the next several hours tossing and turning – dreaming of freckles and pale skin, can-openers and whip cream, multi-colored pens and that clicking of heels he'd recognize anywhere.
The next day, he's groggy and hungover, but even worse, he doesn't see her at all.
Opposing counsel pissed off the clerk, who purposefully pushed their case to the back of the list. He didn't get back to the office until well after six and by that time, he had about a million e-mails to catch up on. When he finally finished for the day, he debated wandering over to her desk, but he couldn't bear a repeat of yesterday, so he went straight home.
When the weekend comes, he tries like hell to keep himself busy, not wanting to leave any time to think about all he's lost.
Even still, the days inch by, and he finds himself looking forward to Monday, when he can see her again – even if it's only for a few minutes, he doesn't care.
He can't do this cold turkey – he can't do it at all really, but he's trying.
When Monday does roll around, he sees her a handful of times, but only in passing. Each time is quick and impersonal and afterwards, he has this sinking feeling in his stomach that he'd very much like to avoid feeling ever again.
The next two days go about the same way – hurried greetings and nothing of substance.
It's barely been a week and he's already missing her more than he ever could've imagined. He's still holding out hope that all of this is just temporary – that she'll come back to him, someday.
He's not sure how he's going to survive, otherwise.
It's what prompts him to send her a quick text.
Dinner on Friday? I can make reservations at Scarpetta
He spends the next twenty minutes watching his phone, waiting for her response, and getting more and more anxious as time ticks by.
Eventually, he has to put it down. He tries to look over a case brief that's been sitting on his desk all morning, but that only lasts a few minutes because he gets about halfway through the first page and has retained absolutely none of it.
Luckily, his phone buzzes to life shortly thereafter.
Okay
He stares at the word for far longer than necessary, trying to decipher the meaning.
It's certainly not the reaction he was hoping for, but it's enough.
7:30?
He types out the reply and presses send. Again, he spends an embarrassing amount of time just waiting for her response.
Finally, it comes.
Sounds good.
He smiles. At least, it's better than "okay."
He sends a quick response and then busies himself with making the reservation. He could pawn it off on his new secretary – Donna did used to make all of his reservations for him.
Still, he feels like he needs to do this himself.
→→⸎←←
The rest of the week goes by way too slow.
He's anxious for Friday to arrive, but of course, time seems to drag on like it never has before.
When the day does finally come, he's about ready to crawl out of his skin. He's not even sure what the anxiety is about – it's Donna. They've had dinner together countless times over the years. They had dinner just last week.
Still, even he knows that this is different.
He's just not sure how – maybe last week was just a fluke, maybe it was the start of something more.
For once, he feels like he might actually be brave enough to find out.
Luckily, his day is jam-packed, so he's able to put his nervousness to the side, for the most part. Instead, he's in non-stop meetings and telephone calls until he eventually waltzes over to her desk to find her wrapping up for the day.
"You ready?" He asks with a hopeful smile.
She nods and grabs her coat. "Let's go."
This dinner is mostly like the last one – like all of their meals together.
They joke and they reminisce. They laugh and they tease. There's even a bit of flirting which is something he'll never not enjoy doing with her.
Even though he can still feel that undercurrent of nerves inside him, her presence has always been able to put him at ease. And that's exactly what it does tonight.
The evening is everything he needed after a long week at the office.
The last thing he wants is for it all to end, but after ordering dessert and lingering at the table so long that the waitress has been circling for the last ten minutes, he has no choice but to concede.
After paying the bill and leaving a generous tip, he offers to walk her home. It's a warm evening and the restaurant is only a few blocks away from her place. Most importantly, he just isn't ready to put her in a cab and go their separate ways.
Luckily, she agrees, and he tries not to look as pleased when she slips her fingers around his elbow while he leads her outside.
It's a beautiful night and her company only makes it that much better – the smell of her perfume getting caught in the light wind and intoxicating him like it has for the past twelve years.
They've both had a couple drinks tonight and it only makes them more carefree and silly.
It's nice.
It always is with her.
Eventually, they get to her front door, and she turns towards him, probably intending to say goodnight.
But, he's just not ready to do that yet.
Lately, it feels like he never is.
Instead, he just looks down at her, trying to gauge how receptive she might be to what's on his mind.
They still haven't talked about the other night and he has no idea what she thinks of it, no idea if it was supposed to be a onetime thing or if she'll want to do it again.
She's always been such an enigma to him, and whatever she's thinking, he hasn't a clue.
But, he knows what he's thinking and the longer she looks at him like this – like she's waiting for something, the harder it is not to just take the plunge.
Testing the waters, he leans in slightly, just to see what she'll do – if she'll pull away.
She doesn't.
He takes it as a signal and runs with it, quickly closing the distance between them, before she has a chance to change her mind.
Seconds later, he's invading her space, stepping forward and slipping a hand behind her neck before gently guiding her lips to him. He watches her eyes fall closed and he swears it stops his heart in the middle of her hallway.
When he finally captures her lips with his, it feels right – as if the evening was always supposed to end this way, as if they were always supposed to end this way.
The moment he gets a taste of her, he can't stop. He's pulling her closer and closer, until her body is flush against his and there isn't even a sliver of space between them.
Soon, he's nipping at her tongue, and the noise he pulls out of her when he does, he feels it all rush to his head, making him dizzy and delirious in the best possible way.
He's kissed plenty of women in his lifetime, but none of them have ever made him feel like she does.
He has a brief thought of getting her inside, but then her fingers start digging into his ribs and all coherent thoughts immediately fall away.
Time seems to be going fast and slow all at once. He has no idea how long they are standing outside her door, making out like he hasn't done in years, but he doesn't even care to find out.
He just doesn't want to stop doing it.
Except, that's when his phone starts buzzing to life.
His initial reaction is to ignore it – he has much more important matters to attend to at the moment.
But then, it just keeps going, on and on, no end in sight.
Reaching into his pocket, he tries to silence the distraction, but it's so hard to focus on the task when she's got her tongue in his mouth. Finally, the noise falls away and he shoves the device back into his pocket, relieved that he can put his attention to better use.
They get to enjoy the quiet for no more than a minute before the buzzing starts up again, forcing a frustrated groan from his lips.
"Fuck," he mumbles, as he reluctantly pulls back from Donna and glances down at his phone, intending to shut it off and get his lips right back on hers.
Unfortunately, the notifications catch his eye right as his thumb hovers over the power button.
"Fuck," he says again, this time out of exasperation and disappointment and a whole lot of aggravation.
"What is it?" Donna wonders, peeking down at the phone, her labored breaths music to his ears.
Harvey glances back up at her, immediately feeling another rush of regret. Her swollen pink lips and flushed skin, her hair slightly out of place – she looks like she's been completely and utterly kissed, and being the reason for it, it does something to him.
"It's Jeremy Woods… he just got arrested," he tells her as he scrolls through the three missed calls and the subsequent text messages from Mike. "Fuck," he says again.
And it has nothing to do with his client being handcuffed and on his way to a jail cell.
"Harvey…" she exhales, using that tone of voice he has never hated more.
It's a tone he's become quite familiar with over the last decade – it's the same one she uses when she's trying to convince him to do the right thing and/or something he really doesn't want to do.
It's her way of saying that he knows what has to happen.
And she's right, but it doesn't make him want to any less.
Blowing out a breath, he shoves his phone in his pocket again and just looks at her. He has never dreaded going back to the office more in his life, but Jeremy is one of his biggest clients – the guy has referred him more cases than anyone else and if Jessica knew that he blew him off, she would absolutely crucify him.
He has to go. They both know it.
But, God, he really doesn't want to. Not when she's standing right in front of him, looking like everything he's ever wanted and more.
"Donna…" he says, his voice soft, as he takes a step towards her, his fingertips grazing her waist. "Can we… can I get a rain check on this?" He asks her, not even trying to hide how much he wants it.
She half-smiles, half-laughs, and then nods her head. "Sure, Harvey."
He grins and leans in to kiss her before he can even begin to second-guess the move.
It's minutes later that he finally forces himself to pull away, only because his phone is starting to vibrate again, and he knows he really needs to answer it this time.
"Goodnight," he smiles, before planting one last kiss on her lips.
"Goodnight," she responds as soon as he pulls away.
««« ×ǁ DEVIATION ǁ× »»»
There's chapter two. Figured this was a nice happy note to stop on. It's not all rainbows and sunshine from hereon in, though.
Please don't forget to review. I love to hear what you think!