Sent in Error
Written for the Twitter Ficlet Challenge organsied by Luisa & C
"So what are you wearing?"
She rolls her eyes at the text message on her phone, feeling frustrated and confused and very unlike herself. On a whim she snaps a quick picture of herself in the mirror, dressed only in her black underwear, hair still bundled up on top of her head. She's far from date ready.
Tapping on the image she sends it off to Rachel in response, adding the message "I'm currently wearing this" with an eye rolling emoji.
She tosses her phone down onto the bed and starts rifling through her closet once more while she awaits Rachel's, sure to be humorous, response. She doesn't know why she's so nervous. It's just a date, she's been on plenty before. She doesn't know why this time feels different, like she's stepping her foot down a path she's never been willing to commit herself to in the past.
Thomas is handsome and funny and smart and she can feel the spark, a connection bubbling between them. They haven't even been on a date yet, only spoken a handful of times, but she can feel it. This could be something. That scares her, even though it shouldn't. Even though it should make her think finally I can let go.
So she's nervous and worried and full of indecisive thoughts as she tries to decide what's appropriate to wear on a date that has the potential to change your whole life.
She's studying a simple black dress that might be a possibility when she hears her phone buzz with an incoming message. She's surprised it took so long for Rachel to respond.
"I always thought red was more your colour" the message reads and she's confused by Rachel's response for a moment until she spots the name at the top of the screen.
Harvey.
Fuck.
She's sent him the picture of herself dressed only in underwear by mistake. Her heart drops into her stomach.
She starts to type a reply, but her fingers freeze above her phone. She hasn't got a clue how to explain and can't begin to imagine what Harvey thought receiving that message. She hopes that he knows it's a mistake, but she needs to make sure.
Abandoning the attempted message she pulls up his number instead and hits call, the tingle of panic flooding her bloodstream.
"Donna," he answers and she can hear the ribbon of a smirk in his tone.
"Harvey, shit I'm sorry, I didn't mean to send that to you, it was meant to be for Rachel, I must not have..." she realises she's rambling and pulls her words to a halt.
"Hey, I'm not complaining, guess it must be my lucky day."
"You're an idiot," she groans, and she should have known this is the path he would take, the flirty, teasing route. "You can delete it now."
"I'm sorry. I can't," and she can hear the grin in his tone as he jokingly adds, "Don't hate me."
"Harvey," she all but shouts down the phone.
He laughs at her for a moment before quieting and his voice drops an octave lower when he next speaks. "Am I allowed to say how amazing you look?"
"You shouldn't," she says softly, unexpectedly finding herself wobbling along that strange and murky line that exists between them.
He sighs, sounding resigned, "Yeah probably not. But you do."
She grins and a simple compliment about her appearance shouldn't make her feel ten feet tall and bulletproof. But it does and she knows it's because of the man who said it. It's not like she isn't aware of the effect she has on Harvey at times, she feels his eyes on her body, both when he's trying to be discrete and when he's upfront in his ogling. But admitting it out loud, that's something different.
"Well thank you?" she murmurs.
"So, is there a reason you're sending Rachel pictures in your underwear? How do I get on that mailing list?" he teases her and her chest suddenly feels tight at the thought of having to explain the situation to Harvey.
"Ohh, she was just helping me try to decide what to wear tonight," she answers vaguely, praying that he'll leave it at that.
"Hot date?" he quips and her yes slips out before she can stop herself. She hears the way the words hit him, hears the jolt in his breathing and she just knows he's clenching his jaw to keep whatever emotion this news has on him under control.
She's well aware it shouldn't be this hard. They shouldn't hurt this much whenever the other becomes involved with someone else. As much as they might claim otherwise, it means something. But she worries that it just won't ever mean enough.
"I should let you get ready," he says, the light flirty humour gone from his voice. She can hear the hurt buried under his words and a part of her wants so badly to soothe it.
"I'll see you tomorrow Harvey." Tomorrow when they'll once more pretend that nothing happened. That his reaction was normal, that it doesn't mean more.
"Have a good night Donna," he tells her, and she knows he doesn't mean it in the slightest.
She's taking a chance here, a leap of faith into the unknown world of what could maybe be. She's hoping that she didn't misread the regret and disappointment in his tone when he found out she had a date. That she didn't mistake his sharp intake of breath as a plea for things to be different.
Harvey opens the door and there's true surprise on his face. Surprise and, if she's not mistaken, hope.
"Donna."
"Harvey."
"What happened to your date?"
She shrugs, butterflies fluttering wildly in her stomach. "I cancelled it," she says as she steps around him into his apartment. She needs to just go for it before she loses her nerve, before she second guesses this choice yet again. Needs to commit to the decision that she's made. She pulls free the belt on her jacket, letting the sides fall open, revealing her bare, underwear clad body underneath.
His jaw drops and his eyes darken as he gasps her name.
"I thought I'd get your opinion on the red," she says, biting her lip.
There's hunger and desire and need all over his face, and something else as well. Joy. It shines out of his eyes and it twinkles in the air around them. Because he understands just what it is she's offering him. Not just her body, not just this night, but them.
He prowls towards her, eyes all over her and presses her up against the wall, lips hovering over hers.
"I think it would look a lot better on my bedroom floor," her groans, before sealing his lips over hers.