Author's Note: The song played by the orchestra in this chapter is Jona Kvarnstrom's cover of 'Another Love.' Enjoy!

Donna needed a second to breathe.

She excused herself from Thomas and a group of donors, who were busy congratulating her on her inspiring words that had earnt an extended round of applause. She was flattered and humbled to know that she had a hand in encouraging awareness and raising money for the evening's plight, but couldn't help the need to enjoy it alone for just a moment. She also needed a moment to siphon through the mess in her mind. She wouldn't let the night be spoiled by the presence of Harvey, or the fact that her necklace was getting heavier as the evening went on. That, or she was growing acutely aware of its presence on her neck.

She made her way through the guests and fetched a flute of wine, before finding herself at the edge of the dancefloor. The gentle ambience of the piano and accompanying strings washed over her and unwound the tight coil that had formed in her chest. She thought she recognised the tune, and frowned when she did. I don't want to lose you, echoed through her ears, and she found herself wondering what had happened to them. She wondered if this was it, maybe she just had to let herself lose him. She feared she already had.

In the same moment, Harvey weaved in and out of patrons around the edge of the dancefloor in the middle of the room, making a bee-line to the exit. Raising his head as he rounded another group of people, he came face to face with Donna. He found himself rooted in place and almost laughed at what felt like a cruel joke; the passage of time choosing that moment to come to a slow stop. They both stood deathly still, Donna having taken a sharp intake of breath and Harvey clenching his fists for purchase. A man's voice came over the surround sound:

'In honour of our 74th charity gala, we welcome our guests of honour to the floor to begin the dances for the evening. Donna Paulsen, Max Wright...'

Her eyes widened in response as the MC continued rattling off names. Clearly thrown off by the timing, her lips parted with a look of helplessness as she subtly started glancing around her. Harvey realised she was looking for Thomas, and heard the orchestra play the opening chords of the song she would soon find herself dancing to.

"Everything has changed."

The words ran through him again. The irony of the moment was not lost on him. He had been battling with feelings of time standing still, avoiding the moments in which it all came to a sudden stop, and herein realised his mistake. These were the very moments where time may as well have been screaming at him to do something, anything. Life had been, in fact, moving forward. Without him.

And life just so happened to be standing right in front of him.

Not knowing what possessed him, within a moment he was straightening his jacket and tucking his glasses in his tuxedo pocket. Exactly four long strides later, Donna spun back around to find his politely outstretched hand, palm up, in front of her. Her eyes travelled from his hand to his eyes, lips still parted slightly, as he spoke in a low tone.

"May I have this dance, Donna?" he asked, his voice was like gravel while he struggled to maintain his composure. He was breaking every unspoken rule they'd held close for years, hell, a decade on end now: the only buffer between them and this. Their unspoken mutual agreement to keep touch to a minimum was the one line that never blurred. They didn't hug, and they certainly didn't dance — besides that one time at Rachel and Mike's wedding. An occasion that reminded him exactly why they don't cross those boundaries.

For the first time in months, Donna saw the spark of recognition coursing through his eyes. She argued with herself to walk away before risking too much by accepting his offer. But before she could open her mouth to protest, she found her hand slipping into his without thought. She was rewarded with his signature half-smile, as he held her hand in place, keeping the other behind his back and leading her to the middle of the floor with the other patrons. Donna felt anticipation building in her chest at the thought of the intimacy they were about to partake in. It was inappropriate considering she'd come here with her boyfriend, she argued with herself, not to mention that she was barely on speaking terms with the man leading her with unmatched confidence.

All the noise she had been battling for the past few months stopped, however, when she felt his body turn to hers. Their grip on one another's hands slipped into position and his warm hand found its place, gently covering the small of her bare back. She trembled at his touch, hoping he wouldn't notice. She brought her other hand up to his shoulder, feeling the rippling muscle underneath his clothing. She had forgotten the ease in which Harvey danced, trying not to lose herself in his effortless gait. Her cheek brushed the lapel of his tux as he brought them into a turn, and she strained to keep distance between them with her eyes still cast downwards. Their way of intuiting each other translated almost too perfectly into dance, she thought distantly.

And what had begun as anticipation in her chest was quickly pooling lower in her abdomen as she felt his hand slide lower on her back after a cross-body lead that she happily followed. His scent had enveloped her senses, and she felt her temple brush his cheek, letting her head fall closer. From the outside, the audience were none the wiser about what was unfolding between them. But Harvey's sharp breath across her ear after the brief contact confirmed to her that she wasn't the only one affected by it. In front of hundreds of people, no less. Donna felt her inhibitions slip away though, as the room faded into the simple awareness of him. His hands, her body, his breath; the vibrations of the orchestra coursing through her veins.

Harvey attempted to control his breathing as the music began to build. Feeling bold, and a little playful, he upped their pace to match the rising intensity of the tune. Taking a step back, he box-stepped them in a series of tight twirls. Before taking Donna's hand, raising his arm and spinning her. Her silk dress fanned out like a blooming flower and he watched on, witnessing it in what felt like slow motion. She circled not once, twice, but three times around him. The light from the chandeliers bounced off her fiery red locks, with her eyes closed angelically and a smile gracing her lips as she took her final turn. The canned applause from the audience could be heard in the distance; quite the spectacle they were indeed. He silently thanked his father, Gordon, for forcing him to lessons when he was a teenager. He caught her after her last spin, pulling her into his chest, and they both began to laugh. It was the laughter of thirteen years. It was the laughter of shared catharsis. There she is, he thought, there's my best friend.

The laughter slowed to a stop, and he felt her rest her forehead in the crook of his neck, accompanied by a deep breath along his skin.He pulled her in tightly as they continued to dance, not wanting to let go. The music continued to swell to the climactic chorus as they both found themselves in a state of utter contentment. People had begun to join the dance floor now and Harvey was grateful for the privacy it bestowed on them. The softness of her skin radiated across his fingertips, and he couldn't help but let his thumb caress her lower back.

This prompted an almost whimper from Donna and she moved her head away from its place in his neck, letting her eyes meet his with heated urgency as the chorus peaked. Harvey glanced down at her lips and back to her eyes, his gaze holding the same desire, and Donna found herself doing the same. The memory of the last time they'd kissed moved through her. She found herself reliving the passion and knowing that had flowed through their joining. She remembered him leaning into her touch and his tongue gently moving across her bottom lip, with a hand on her waist and her hands in his hair. Along with this memory though, came the unwanted reminder of the suffering it brought on them both for the months following.

I need you to promise that will never happen again.

The pain that had only faded into arguments, then into small-talk and the subsequent silence they hadn't dared to break. This instantly sobered her and she realised where they were, and just how wrong she was for enjoying this; this couldn't happen. What was she doing? Harvey's eyebrows furrowed as he felt her breath quicken and saw her eyes filling with hot tears.

It will never happen again.

Donna couldn't stop the onset of panic as the feeling of his hands and body and breath began to burn her flesh. And not in the same way it had been before. She felt the necklace bearing down heavily atop her shoulders, tightening along with her chest. No no no, she thought, this can't be happening. Harvey raised one hand to try and wipe the tear that was threatening to spill, with a confused and worried look on his face. He wasn't sure what was happening but his heart ached as he distinctly recognised the look of panic in her eyes.

"Donna," he said, voice low and gentle, trying to be an anchor in what looked like the beginnings of a panic attack.

"No, Harvey, please just— no," she replied, stepping back as if he was a threat to her very existence, before turning to disappear into the crowd.

He was left standing alone amongst other guests dancing, the music in its final bars, wondering what the fuck had just happened.

•

Donna tore through the doors of one of the balconies that branched off a room of the main foyer. The fresh air instantly grounded her, and she let her Louboutins fall off, needing contact with the cold tile to shock her back into her body. Fuck him, she thought, how dare he take her in his arms like he lov— she stopped herself before launching into a full scale mental tirade.

She knew that wasn't fair. She had taken his hand, had said yes in every way she could without forming words. She always had, and at one point thought she always would — she thought she was beyond that now. And she was, she affirmed to herself, Harvey Specter meant nothing to her anymore. He didn't need her anymore. He was only ever a friend, and now she had Thomas. Thomas.

She felt herself dissociating in the face of the torrential emotion. So, she looked across the city and just let herself breathe. Her hand unconsciously came up to touch the diamonds, still sitting in place around her neck, unmoved.