Hi everyone, first of all thank you so much for sticking around for this story and for all favs/follows and the lovely reviews. They're really inspiring. I had wanted to post this earlier, but I got caught up in listening to Taylor's new album and then vidding a song from it.. oops. Anyway, I finally sat down today and decided to pull this part aside and just post it. So here is the next part, I hope you'll enjoy it and let me know what you think.
X - M
MISTLETOE MYSTERY
CHAPTER VIII
Harvey scans the page in front of him again, the words not making any more sense then they did before, and he thoughtlessly wiggles a pen between his fingers, tapping the edge of the table with the end now and then.
It results in a glare from Jessica, and he mouths an apology, placing the pen back down. He sighs, slowly, and turns another page, letting his gaze roam around the table of his peers in the study hall of the library. Travis, Louis, Dana, Jessica, Katrina, Harold and Rachel, all of them nose deep into the material.
The girls are quizzing each other while Louis is frantically going over his quiz cards, and for all the gaming he's done, Tanner doesn't seem to sweat the upcoming exam a bit. Harvey turns to look at Rachel again, he knows she knows the subject inside out, but he also knows she doesn't take tests well and that it stresses her out.
Rachel notices Harvey's stare and drops her pen, letting out a deep sigh she leans back in her chair and towards him. "Sometimes I can't stand him, you know."
"Who?" He frowns, not sure who she's referring to.
"Mike," she replies, "goddamn photographic memory."
Harvey chuckles and shakes his head; it had become so natural for the blond to be absent on these study nights he didn't even question it anymore. "Yeah, lucky bastard."
.
Donna steals a slice of pizza from Mike's plate; they had ended up ordering in anyway. He tries to swat her hand away, but she's faster. She motions for him to focus on the movie instead.
"What's this thing about those yellow tomatoes?" Mike asks, talking through the movie they've both seen a handful of times anyway.
"Huh?" she mutters, in the middle of her quoting along with Sean Connery.
Mike lifts a slice. "The yellow tomatoes," he answers in between bites. "Harvey always orders them too. I mean, not that they aren't great, but I don't think they're any different from red ones."
Donna smiles at her friend, and while she knew Harvey always ordered them for her, she didn't think he changed his order altogether. She doesn't tell Mike, though, keeping the fact that she was the one to introduce Harvey to it to herself. Instead, she mocks his lack of refined pallet. "Don't let Rachel hear you say that."
Mike rolls his eyes and shrugs, licking his fingers as he finishes the last slice of pizza. He leans forward and picks up a napkin to clean his hands and mouth. "Ooh, she knows I'd much rather have a burger than sushi."
Donna grins, she's heard the same from her roommate before, though it sounded more like a complaint at the time. "Hey," she mumbles then, her mind drifting off to something Rachel had said the day before. "You're in professor Gerard's class too, right?"
"Yeah." Mike shifts over the couch, watching the redhead, and he instantly knows why she is asking. "I'm sorry I probably won't make it to your play."
"It's okay," Donna presses her lips into a thin smile. "It's not your fault the class got moved up."
Mike nods, and he knows it isn't, but he notices a hint of sadness in her voice anyway. "You know," he starts then, waiting for her attention to return to him before he continues to speak. "If it weren't mandatory, he wouldn't have missed it for the world. He's crazy about you."
Donna swallows and forces a small smile before saying she knows. In reality, she can only wonder if that's true or if he's getting better at playing the role than she is.
.
.
Thursday, December 13
She wakes up grumpy and cold, running a hand over her arm she rolls around to the other side of her bed. It isn't often these days that it's empty and the cold sheets are an unwanted awakening.
Sighing, Donna pushes the sheets away and swings her legs over the edge of the bed. Slipping into her slippers, she grabs a robe and puts it on. By the time she makes it to the kitchen, she finds Rachel fully dressed and already finishing up on her breakfast.
"Morning," Donna announces herself when Rachel's focus remains on the sticky notes spread out over the counter.
"Hey," the brunette answers in return, but her gaze remains locked on the yellow pieces of paper. She goes over them one more time before she starts collecting the cards, stacking them back to each other as she takes her last bite of cereal. Disposing the empty bowl into the sink, she opens the tab but turns it off right away after.
"I'll take care of that," Donna offers, sidestepping and pushing her friend aside. She places her hands on the brunette's shoulders, rubbing once and giving her a genuine smile. "You've got this."
Rachel bobs her head up and down. "Thank you," she says, "I'm sorry I got to -"
"Go," Donna orders motioning to the door, and she waits for her roommate to do just that before she focuses on the dishes. She doesn't mind; Rachel has done the same for her numerous times over the years. Drying her hands on the table cloth, she fills a bowl with cereal for herself, topping it off with a couple of sliced strawberries.
She fills a cup with freshly brewed coffee, adds in a splash of vanilla and takes both items with her back to her bedroom where she climbs into bed again. It's even colder now than it was when she woke up and her mood fades along with it.
She thinks back to Mike's words from the night before, how Harvey wouldn't miss her play for the world and yet she knows he won't be there. She knows, even if he hasn't told her yet. And the fact that he hasn't is pissing her off.
Enough to make her want to ignore him, forgo on the well-wishes sent by text just like she did for every other exam. Just a couple of simple words, it would take three seconds to type and hit send. Way less than the minutes, hours even, if she counted in last night, that's she's been contemplating on sending the text altogether.
She does send it, after tossing her phone across her bed and reaching for it again right after. Donna decides to be the bigger person.
Good luck with your exam, xo
His reply comes a minute later, and she hates that she does, but her phone is in her hand a second after it pings. I don't need luck; I make my own. It's what his message reads, and she wants to roll her eyes, but it's so him, so unexpectedly expected that she can't. Especially when her phone rings before she gets the chance to place it aside once more, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach as her screen displays its caller.
Harvey 3
She takes a deep breath, her thumb hovering above the slider for a few seconds before the answers. Bringing the phone to her ear, she scoots down over her duvet and leans back against her pillows. Placing her bowl of cereal aside, Donna reaches for her coffee after she greets him. "Hey."
"Hey," Harvey replies, "about to take this exam but I wanted to ask -"
His question falls away as she hears him pull away from his phone and answer who she guesses is Dana from what she can hear. "What?" She asks after a sip of her coffee, and she hears some shuffling, assuming he's walking towards the hall right now.
"We're all going for drinks this afternoon; you should join us."
She swallows and glances away even though he can't see her; she is supposed to feel pissed at him, and yet her stomach somersaults at his question. She takes a deep breath and thinks over her options, there's a pretty good reason to decline, but she isn't sure she can convince herself to do so.
"Look," he continues, having heard the hesitation in the way she breathes. "I know the play is tomorrow night, but it would just be a couple of drinks. Won't make it late, I promise."
She wants to say yes, and even though the thought of being near him still scares her, the idea of putting up the performance of being his girlfriend appeals to her more than acting on stage. She knows she shouldn't though. "I don't know, Harvey," she admits, "I have dress-rehearsal and the play -" she uses the excuse he handed her.
She hears some ruffling again, and in the midst of it, she thinks she can make out a deep, somewhat disappointed sigh but before she can give a second thought to it his voice returns. "I have to go, but just think about it okay?"
Her okay only comes seconds after the call is disconnected.
.
He laughs at the joke Mike cracks about them all wanting to hang out with him now right after the exams. It's a tradition of some sort, to get together after the tests and discuss the answers, and with Mike's photographic memory, they'd be able to pinpoint whether they passed or not.
It isn't official, but they all know they did.
"Another round," Travis announces, sliding the tray full of beers and other beverages on the table in between his friends, it's not long after that a waiter returns and brings them their food of choice; burgers and fries for everyone.
Another tradition and when he catches Rachel stealing a french fry from Mike's plate because she didn't order any, he thinks of Donna. A small smile tugs on his lips and he glances down, sneaking his phone out of his pocket, he stares at the screen. There's a confirmation text from his father, but there aren't any messages from her.
"Is Donna on her way yet?"
He locks his phone and slides it back into the pocket of his pants, looks up and finds three pairs of eyes expectantly waiting for his answer—another tradition.
She was always there with them, celebrating the last exams. Granted they still had a paper and mock trial left, and Donna and Sean still had a performance and an oral exam; they had done this for the past two years.
He finds himself wishing she was here, but he doesn't say it. Instead, Harvey shrugs and tells them what she told him. "She has rehearsal, so she probably won't make it."
"Ooh," Mike answers disappointed as Rachel offers Harvey a thin-lipped smile in return.
He swallows then, swivelling the remainder of alcohol around in his glass before finishing it in one big chug. He replaces it with one of the cold beers Tanner just bought them and he starts on his burger.
Rachel eyes the group spread around the table. The atmosphere is light, the laughter loud and even though the man sitting across the table from her is joining in on the conversation, Rachel can't help but feel Harvey would be happier if the spot saved next to him was filled by the person he saved it for.
She takes another bite of her burger, steals one more fry from Mike's plate before she wipes her fingers on a red checkered napkin. Leaning towards the blond, she places her hand on his knee and squeezes it softly, silently asking him to move aside a little. "Gonna grab some more sauce," she announces.
.
"Yeah," Sean mumbles into the phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear, as he fixes shoelaces. "I'll uhm.. see what I can do. But no promises, you know how she is about performances."
He hears Rachel chuckle from the other side of the line, and Sean laughs then too. He'll try though, putting all his neglected acting skills into convincing their friend to go to the bar with him. "There better be a cold beer waiting for me."
"Already arranged."
He grins and shakes his head, reaching down for his backpack, he swings it over his shoulder. "We'll be there soon," Sean says before hanging up and making his way down the hall.
He stalls in front of the other dressing room and smiles at Bertha and Zoe leaving the room. "Is Donna in there?" he calls after them.
"Yeah," Zoe answers, "running her lines. We just discussed this part that she didn't get quite right yet."
"Right," Sean mutters, biting down on his tongue to hold back on one of the numerous comments he has on the girl's writing. Instead, he just stares at the writer and the actress walk away again, and he sighs loudly the second they're out of earshot. If anything, Donna's performance was what made this play somewhat tolerable.
Sean turns to the door on his left, knocks on it twice before he asks. "Can I come in?" He waits for her confirmation before he brings his hand to the doorknob and turns it. "Hi," Sean greets her, leaning down against the dressing table, he folds his hands in his lap and peeks at his friend. "Are you ready to go?"
Donna peeks up at him and back to the script, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. She sighs.
"Ooh come on," he pulls the piece of paper from his friend's hand. "Zoe doesn't know what she's talking about. The only reason it is even sold out is that you are starring in it."
Donna turns to look at Sean again, tilting her head ever so slightly.
"I mean it," he reasons, holding the script out of her grasp. "And you know it," he adds to it, reminding her of her abilities. "And you know this," Sean signals at the script. "By heart," he adds before she can object, "so can we please go and grab a drink now?"
She smiles softly, knows Sean got roped into convincing her to go out with her friends. She just doesn't know who told him to, but she gives in anyway. "Okay," Donna exhales, and she lets her annoyance towards the playwriter wash off of her for a second. "But just one," Donna reasons and she runs a hand over her head, removing the hairband and letting her wavy curls cascade down her shoulders.
"One to start," Sean fires back, pushing himself to his feet. He offers his arm for the redhead to take—something she does as she gets out of the chair, holding her bag with her free hand. Sean grabs the coat from the hook near the door, handing it over to her and taking hold of her bag by the time they reach the front door of the theatre.
.
Rachel checks her phone the second it buzzes in her lap; a knowing grin spreading over her face as she reads the message she was sure she would get.
We're on our way, that beer better be waiting for me - SC
She quickly texts him back and puts away her phone before leaning into Mike, feeling his left arm wrap around her instantly.
Mike nods at Tanner as he excuses himself and returns his attention to the discussion Harvey, Louis and Jessica are having as he runs his hand along Rachel's shoulder, squeezing it softly as he pulls her closer to his side. It's then that he notices a waiter walk around and lifts his hand, asking for another round for the table.
Rachel turns and taps on the waiter's arm as he passes, signalling for him to come back. She orders an extra beer for Sean and a Manhattan for Donna.
Harvey watches the short interaction, but he can't hear what Rachel's asking over the discussion Jessica and Louis are having. He snaps out of his thoughts when he hears his name again, and he nods, pretending to be on the same page but Harvey doesn't know what it is that he agreed to.
Luckily for him, Harvey doesn't get the chance to overthink it. Or hear Jessica call out for him again wondering why he suddenly agreed with Louis' argument over hers, when he spots a glimpse of red hair from the corner of his eye.
It's like a sixth sense, but Harvey sits a little straighter, elbows leaning on the table in front of him as he watches her move through the crowd and it isn't the alcohol that's causing his heart to beat faster but her. He shifts over the dark green leather seat of the booth and a smile tugs on the corner of his mouth, head tilting ever so slightly to follow her every move as she passes some people behind the bar. When she reaches their group, coming to a halt right behind Rachel's seat, his eyes lock with hers, and he swallows.
Donna stands there for a second, just looking at him before she mouths an inaudible greeting and it's the way his eyebrows raise and his smile slants that she knows he's wondering why she didn't tell him she was joining them after all.
Donna presses her lips in a thin smile and shrugs, breaking his gaze; at last, she turns to face Sean again. Her hand finds his bicep, and she gives it a gentle squeeze; silently thanking him for convincing her to come after all.
She looks back over the table then, taking in her group of friends but it are Harvey's eyes she still finds directed towards her. The redhead looks down, bringing her hand to Rachel's shoulder in front of her. Squeezing it softly to let her roommate know she's here. She does the same with Mike as she starts to round the group.
Sean, on the other hand, just announces his presence with a general greeting, waving at everyone as he moves in the opposite direction to the empty chair next to Katrina. Asking if the seat is taken, he sits down after she tells him Tanner left to talk to some people at the bar a while ago. "Ooh," Sean answers, a hint of disappointment palpable in his voice and he catches Rachel flash him an apologetic smile.
Excusing herself, Donna slips between Mike and Jessica's chairs, passing the table until she reaches the booth. She moves to the empty spot saved for her, right next to him. Once more, she finds him looking at her; this time, he voices his greeting.
"Hey."
She lets her gaze roam over Harvey's face. He looks tired, cheeks a little flush and she knows he's definitely had more than one drink already. His unruly locks tell her he struggled at one point or another during the test and she grins then, bringing her hand to his hair and slipping her digits through it. Just once, a single motion to fix it, but she swears she can see his eyes light up.
The look on his face is just like the image she caught on camera, and it startles her. Donna pulls her hand back, quickly reaches for her bag to cover up her motion and she lets it slip to the ground. Removing her coat next, she folds it and tosses it on the pile of jackets in the corner, sitting down next to him at last.
"Hey," she says, at last, moving a little until she finds a comfortable position feeling more than one gaze turned in their direction. It's her best friend's stare that makes her pick on the edge of her nail, a motion she catches herself doing, and she untangles her hands, letting her right one rest on the table.
He doesn't even realise he's doing it until he feels her knuckles flex under the palm of his hand, as his left covers hers. His breath hitches at the realisation, but the feeling disappears as quickly as it came when Harvey finds her inquiring eyes, and he runs his thumb over her fingers as she smiles.
Her hand turns ever so slightly, making his finger slip around hers, and they hold hands for a moment. She knows it was a move on his part to convince their friends, part of pretending and what they practised that time they were at his father's.
But now that no one is looking at them anymore the need for this gesture is no longer necessary, she just doesn't know if and when she should let go. She notices Harvey's struggling with the same thoughts as she catches his gaze move to their linked hands, and she feels herself doing the same.
She breathes in and out, slowly, counting the seconds until she reaches twelve; the need to let go overwhelming but the need to hold on is even more prominent. His caress is gentle and soothing, causing goosebumps to erupt over her arm and a shiver runs down her spine. She looks to her right once more, gulping when she finds him gazing at her yet again.
It's then that the waiter who took Mike's order returns, placing the glasses on the table and moving the two drinks that Rachel added to the order in front of the two people he'd seen join the group, that they pull apart.
Coughing, Harvey shifts over his seat. He drops his left arm on the backrest of the booth behind her, occupying his right hand by holding onto the beer that got placed in front of him. Donna's fingers toy with the stem of her glass, and she distracts herself by ordering a burger from the menu.
"Sean," Donna addresses her friend across the table, "do you want something too?"
"A burger too, please," the blond asks.
"Coming right up."
Donna smiles at the waiter, and she returns her gaze to the glass in front of her as soon as the waiter turns around. She swallows then, thickly, tracing the edge of her glass with her nail. They may not be touching anymore, but her heartbeat hasn't slowed down yet because of it. Their proximity is still closer than what it is typically, her body on high alert because of it and the way his arm is resting behind her almost makes her want to scooch a little closer to him.
He draws his bottom lip between his teeth. The silence isn't awkward or unusual to them, he doubts any of his friends have noticed, and yet, he worries it reveals something, anything. So he takes hold of his glass, takes a large sip and lets the alcohol work it's course - building up the courage to speak to his best friend.
The movement is nothing special, but he feels it in his left shoulder. His current position is not optimal with his injury, and it would be most comfortable and best just to return his arm. He, however, doesn't think that's an option, yet again afraid it would look like something that wasn't there, and thus he twists on his spot, ever so slightly to the left. His side now hitting the backrest and his knee tapping against her thigh as he does so.
He catches Donna looking at him again, watches her smile once more. Harvey doesn't know if her movement is just a coincidence or if she's really that good at pretending. Either way, when he feels Donna's shoulder slide against his chest and her back press against his sides, it doesn't matter anymore. His head automatically turns to the left, letting his chin rest on top of her head for a moment.
.
Sean finishes his burger and gulps down the last sip of his beer as he looks over at Donna, remembering her remark and his promise. He stays silent on it for a moment, just watching her and Harvey. He's known both of them for three years now, always admired their friendship but seeing them together, her leaning against his side, head on his shoulder and Harvey stealing fries from her plate, it just makes sense. It's that little bit of intimacy that wasn't visible but always palpable before, and he's happy for them. He really is so when he does speak, bag and coat in hand; it's in the most apologetic tone he can muster. But it's what she made him agree to, because of their play. "Donna, do you want to go or?"
She exhales slowly, Sean's words breaking her from her daze and even though she turns to face him, she remains clued on Harvey's side. "I -," she starts, pausing instantly again because she knows he's only asking because of her own words. The truth is, she doesn't want to go.
Harvey peeks at Sean, and then back to the redhead in his embrace. Looking past her, he reads the time on his watch, and he remembers telling her this morning they wouldn't make it long. "We can go," he tells her then.
She contemplates Harvey's offer for a second. It's what she should agree to, but it means getting up and out of his embrace. It means being alone with him again, and while their current position startles her more than she likes to admit, she can categorise it as pretend. Being alone with him, however, that's something else.
"I guess one more drink can't hurt," she suggests then, flashing Sean a grin that tells him she knows she's going against her word.
Sean rolls his eyes, signals for the waiter to return, and he goes around the table for everyone's orders. Harvey opts out this round, just like Mike and Rachel who excuse themselves a couple of minutes later.
"We're heading back home," Rachel says to Donna and the redhead nods in agreement so that Harvey doesn't have to, but they both know what it means.
"See you tomorrow."
.
It's another hour later when Sean does leave, and Donna convinces him she'll go home soon too. Telling Sean, she'll see him tomorrow at eleven backstage.
Harvey lets the strand of her auburn locks slip through his fingers, and he runs his left hand over Donna's shoulder, gently urging her to get up and he winces a little as she does so.
"Ooh shit, your shoulder, I'm sorry," she whispers then, looking at him, her right hand falling on his knee as she moves to the left and lets him move his arm back. "Are you okay?" She asks.
"Yeah, I'm fine." He reassures her, rolling his shoulder twice to get rid of the tingling feeling. "Do you want to go home?"
She nods instinctively, but her gaze roams over the table at the same time, taking in the remainder of friends left. "Where's Tanner?" she wonders out loud.
Harvey looks around now too, sitting a bit straighter to peer down the end of the bar. "He's just leaving," he mutters motioning the door with a bob of his head. "And he isn't alone," he adds, leaving the conclusion hanging in the air.
"Ooh.." she huffs.
Harvey chuckles and nods, pressing his lips together he scrunches his nose. "So," he says then, asking her what she wants to do with little words.
"Let's uhm…" she pauses, remembering Mike and Rachel went home already, and even though it's not an official agreement, it's kind of an unspoken rule between the now two couple that when one's partner is staying over the other stays in the other's apartment. The boy's apartment being shared by three makes it a bit more complicated, but there's something about having to pretend solely in front of their closest friends that brings back the anxiety of being alone with him. And thus she picks the least stressful of options. "I guess we should wait a bit longer, okay."
.
It's well past midnight when they make it back to Harvey's apartment; the giggles shared between them are not because of the alcohol but the way they're trying to tiptoe around the place in the darkness. They make it to the bathroom just fine, brushing their teeth next to one another in complete silence, apart from a yawn here or there, joined by a stolen glance through the mirror.
Having used the bathroom at the bar before they left, Harvey leaves her to finish and makes a beeline to his bedroom. Kicking off his shoes near the door, he makes quick work of his belt and pants. Letting it drop down to the floor and kicking it into the direction of the chair as he pulls the duvet aside in search of his pyjamas.
Donna washes her hands and cups them together to splash a bit of water into her face, just enough to remove her makeup. Running her hands across her cheeks, a yawn overcomes her, and she decides to retreat as well. She rubs her eye as she makes her way through the dark apartment, automatically gravitating towards the light coming from his room.
"Ooh," she stammers when she catches him undoing his shirt, a shiver running down her spine because of it. He merely turns around to face her as he pops the last button and tosses his shirt to the side. There's half a smile spread across his face, but it turns into a loud yawn. She chuckles at his attempt of a greeting and she wanders over to her side of the bed—the boxer shorts and t-shirt she had been wearing still in place near the pillow.
She changes too, slipping into the oversized shirt as she watches the way the same style of shirt clings to his muscular arms. She shivers again (not just because of the low temperature in his room), and this time he notices.
"You want a pair of sweatpants?" he asks, motioning her bare legs with a bob of his head. She had complained about the cold three times on their way over after all.
She looks down and pulls the edge of the crimson coloured t-shirt down her thighs. She shakes her head then, sliding into the bed and pulling the duvet up to her chest, clinging onto it. "I'll be fine."
He half shrugs and doesn't comment, simply mirrors her motion and gets in too. Rolling onto his side, Harvey turns off the light on his nightstand. He holds back a sigh and slowly moves to rest on his back again. Eyes darting to the ceiling, tracing a non-existent crack in the plaster as he steadies his breathing.
Donna pulls the duvet up to her nose, almost burying her face into it and she rolls her shoulders. One hand runs over her lower arm, she squeezes her legs together, letting her feet rub against one another. She wishes she'd kept her socks on.
He draws his bottom lip between his teeth and exhales slowly, hand twitching by his side as he lets his eyes trail the same path over the edge of the ceiling, and down to the painting above his desk. He can feel Donna rustling about, twisting and turning and folding the duvet around her feet. He can even hear it in her breathing. She's cold.
He sighs then, knows there's no point in asking again. She's too stubborn to change her answer, so he does so for his best friend. Flinging his half of the duvet aside, Harvey slides his legs over the edge of the bed and he walks to the cabinet.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting you a pair of sweatpants," he answers as he rummages through the contents of his drawer.
"Harvey, I said-"
"You're shivering," he cuts her off. His tone is final enough to not warrant a rebuttal from her anymore. "Fuck," he mutters then, not being able to find what he was looking for. He shuts the drawer with his side and unties the string of his dark grey sweats.
She leans on her right elbow; eyes narrowed as she's trying to figure out his next move. And she swallows then, thickly, as she watches him push the thick fabric down his legs. Donna's objection dies on the tip of her tongue as Harvey steps out of the sweatpants and tosses them in her direction.
"There."
"Harvey," her plea barely above a whisper but he hears it all the same. He motions for her to go ahead with a tip of his head.
Hesitatingly she reaches for the sweatpants as she sits up straighter. "You sure you won't be cold?"
Harvey slips into bed again, pulling the blanket up over his shoulder as he turns on his left side. "I'll be fine."
It's only then, and after letting out a breath, she didn't know she was holding, that she does as told. She slips her bare legs from under the duvet and into his grey sweatpants. The fabric feels warm to the touch, and she ties the string around her middle before she moves back under the duvet, pulling it up to her chin just like before.
"Thank you," she breathes, letting her head turn to the right to face him.
He shrugs a little and gives her a small smile. "If I start hogging the sheets tonight, it's your fault." He says, pulling the blanket towards him and tucking it to his frame under his right arm.
Donna laughs at that, and if her arms weren't snuggled together under the blanket she would have attempted a playful slap in his direction. She uses words instead.
"You always do it anyway."
"Yeah well, I have to hold onto something from the edge of the bed because of the way you sleep."
She rolls her eyes at first and shakes her head softly, but when his expression hasn't changed by the time she eyes him again, hers grows more curiously. "And how's that?"
He thinks back to one of the first times they shared a bed, pillow wall and all in between them. What he remembers most is waking up the next morning and having a near heart attack at the sight of half an arm coming through the pillows.
"Like a starfish," his answer is immediate, brought with a genuine smile and accompanied by a demonstration on his part. Turning his body to the left, he swings his arm over the redhead's frame. His wrist falls across her midriff and his right calf hooks around hers.
Donna chuckles lightheartedly. Not just because of his antics but also to cover up the way she feels her heartbeat increasing when he doesn't pull his arm back.
She doesn't push him away, either.
Apart from their breathing, there's just silence after that. It's not awkward, not at all but loaded all the same. They stay like that for a few seconds until she returns to lay on her back, making his arm graze her chest.
He inhales sharply and becomes aware again of his earlier movement, their position, and despite the act that they're putting on, this wasn't them. He pulls back then, his foot, his arm and Harvey covers it up by turning to lay on his back too. He clings the duvet to his chest as his left arm slips from his side, landing on the mattress in between them; right next to hers.
His pinky finger is not even half an inch removed from hers, but with the warmth he can feel radiating from her hand, it's like they're touching all the same. His digits twitch and his pinky finger moves, just so, it barely grazes past hers. A touch but not, he exhales again.
Her eyes are closed but it feels like she's staring at the ceiling anyway, counting seconds or sheep. She isn't sure but her nerve endings are on high alert since the second Harvey touched her, or more so since the second he stopped touching her. She wasn't cold anymore, but she misses his warmth all the same. She hears him breathe in again and she swallows, her stomach turns at her inner turmoil.
A yawn overcomes her, and it reminds her of the time, how late they went home and the prospects of the new day. The upcoming play and she writes her feelings off as nerves, just pre-performance jitters. She asks then, remembering the conversation they had on their way back. "Did you set the alarm?"
"Yeah. I did."
.
Friday, December 14
He did, or so he thought. Apparently, he hadn't or his phone had decided to act up, he isn't sure what exactly happened when Donna flings a pillow to his face and calls out his name.
"You said you set the fucking alarm."
He groans loudly, tosses the object that has started to smell too much like a strawberry vanilla concoction aside and runs a hand over his eyes. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he sits up against the headboard and blinks twice, already watching the redhead move frantically through his room.
"I did."
"Then why on earth is it nearly half-past ten," she belts back, motioning the clock on the wall as she starts picking up her clothes from the floor.
His gaze darts to the clock and then to his phone on the nightstand, hitting the screen it lights up right away. 10.27 am "Shit," he mutters under his breath. "Shit," he repeats, again, flinging the duvet to the side and swinging his legs over the edge. "Fuck, I'm sorry. You get ready, and I'll fix you a coffee," he adds on his way to the door.
"God," he breathes, hitting the button on the coffee machine, he lets his hands fall onto the counter as his head drops down. Steadying himself as he tries to wake up fully, he stretches his back and his knee twitches. Harvey realises he could do with a bathroom break too as he hears the coffee starting to drip into the can, but he told Donna to get ready.
He runs a hand over his face, holding back a yawn as he starts to look for the bottle of vanilla he knows she stacked somewhere in his kitchen. He picks a banana from the bowl too for her to at least have some food this morning, and he finishes up her coffee. He rounds the kitchen island, places both objects on the side, ready for her to grab as he plops down on one of the barstools.
'"Harvey?"
His head jolts up when he hears his name, it's a female voice, but it's not hers. Not Donna. His brow knit together as he stares at the scarcely clad brunette. He recognises her face, but he, for the life of him, can't remember her name.
"Nadia," it's Donna who saves his ass in that exact moment, but he can see from the expression on her face that she's just as confused as he is and he silently slides her cup of coffee in the redhead's direction.
"Donna?"
It's not just Donna's head jumping up in surprise this time around, but Harvey's too at the new voice that presents itself and Harvey's frown grows even more profound, jaw set as he takes in the half-naked guy.
"Tho...Thomas?" She stumbles half over his name, her breathing hitching in the back of her throat as she tries to wrap her brain around what's happening.
Harvey's gaze travels from Donna to Thomas and back at the redhead; he swallows at the surprised look on her face. Almost swears he can see her blush, his hand balls into a fist and he finds himself getting up from the barstool, standing up tall and closer to her than he was before.
"There you two are," Tanner's voice echoes through the living room as the law student walks over to the two couples, wrapping his right arm around Nadia's waist, his left hand over Thomas' shoulder. "Look, last night was great, but it's time to go," he announces, turning Nadia and Thomas around and walking them back to his room.
Donna's mouth is still agape as Tanner takes his conquests back, and her mouth opens and closes a few times as she struggles to find the words. "I - I uhm.. should go," she settles on eventually. Ignoring the drink that Harvey made her; she makes her way to the couch to retrieve her bag and coat and leaves before Harvey gets a chance to say goodbye.
.
It's a rough fifteen minutes later when he's finishing the now cold cup of coffee he made for her, scrunching down on the last piece of banana she ignored too, and he stares down at his phone. At the message his father had sent to be precise, and he's halfway into typing a reply when he hears a knock on the door. It's loud and frantically followed by another.
"I'm coming," he mutters as he tries to swallow down the last piece of his breakfast. Tossing the peel in the bin, he pads barefoot to the front door, swinging it open.
"Is it here?"
She brushes past him before he even has a chance to say her name and he merely flicks the door back shut, following her through the hallway back to the living room. "Is what here?"
His question results in a look that tells him he should know what she's talking about, and when his response still lacks a few seconds later, she finally clarifies. "The can opener," she sighs. As if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"The -" he stops his sentence as soon as he starts it, suddenly remembering the object she pulled out once, it was years ago. For a stupid game he had to play, and she made a bet that he could hit a freaking thumbtack with it. He joked about it once before a play that same year, about how she should do it too. Simply because he couldn't think of anything as remotely ridiculous as this for her to try and break the pre-play jitters.
"Donna," his hand stops the drawer from opening. "I don't think it's here," he tells her and he's pretty certain of it too after she'd rummaged through half of his kitchen already.
"Then, where the hell is it?"
The look she gives him is on the border of exasperated, and he makes the mistake of asking why she needs it, which has her seething even more. Harvey can't help but wonder what it is that's setting her off so much, today of all days. He's seen her stress about performances, more than once, but never, ever, like this.
He's this close to telling her she doesn't need the bullshit ritual because she's going to crush this like she always will. He fears though his words will somehow just add fuel to the fire and thus he offers something else.
"I'll help you find it," he reassures her, his hand briefly squeezing her bicep in passing. "Just give me one sec."
He returns a minute later, now clad in a pair of black jeans, white t-shirt and he's still pulling the grey sweatshirt down his frame as she urges him to the door and down the three flights of stairs.
He knows searching her kitchen is a futile attempt, but he doesn't dare to comment, seeing that as long as she seeks and busies herself, her stress decreases. So he follows her lead, opening cabinets left and right, moving through the living room until he's pulling pillows from the small seating area around her windowsill.
"Donna," he whispers, it's soft, and she doesn't respond. He's sure she did hear him which means she's actively ignoring him now and he draws in a breath, tossing the pillow back down as he crosses the room for the next location to turn upside down. Rummaging through the curiosities on top of her dresser, he pauses half a second to watch the picture displayed, especially the one showing them.
Drawing in a deep breath, he decides to break the silence at last. Not by bringing up the can opener or her play, but Harvey hopes to take her mind off of that by asking what's been on his mind since Donna left this morning. "Who's Thomas?"
She looks up at that, and she stares out of the window instead of facing him as the question takes her off-guard. Not because it matters who Thomas is or isn't really, but because once again he's ignoring the obvious. Her play, the fact that he won't be able to make it, and worse, how he still hasn't told her what she already knows. "No one," she answers his question, not deliberately vague but vague all the same.
She misses the way he looks down when she does face him, brows drawing together, she tries to read him. Her annoyance toward him right now prevents her from doing so, and she comes up blank. Donna moves the contents back and forth over her desk; she returns the question though. "Was it weird running into Nadia?"
"What?"
She catches him reaching for the top drawer of her dresser, a moment of panic rushes over her at the content inside. So she stops him from opening it with one swift movement, pressing it back shut. "It's not in there. Nothing important is in there," she reasons, ignoring his questioning look. "Well?" She presses, motioning for him to keep looking with a flick of her wrist. "Seeing her with Tanner."
He shrugs, if he was honest, he'd already forgotten about running into her this morning. "Nah."
"But you both -"
"Both what?" he eyes her, pretending not to understand what she was asking because he gets the inkling it's making her a bit uncomfortable. That's not something that has often happened, so he enjoys it now.
She bobs her head to the side, eyes meeting his as she speaks. "Bow chicka wow wow."
He doesn't just laugh but snorts. Her choice of words surprises him so much Harvey almost forgets she was so stoic for the better part of the morning. And her previous behaviour doesn't warrant it, but he decides to tell her the truth anyway. "I never slept with her."
"You … didn't?"
He shakes his head. "I didn't," he answers. I'm not the womaniser you always make me out to be. It's a thought that dies on the tip of his tongue, he knows he's no saint and compared to others he might very well be, but she always made it seem worse.
"So," he approaches the subject again, walking past her as a metal object catches his eye. He grabs it before she seems to spot it and he holds it behind his back for a hot second. "Who's Thomas?" he asks her again, bringing the kitchen utensil out, he holds it up in front of her - bargaining for the answer.
She lets out a relieved sigh when she spots it. "We went out for drinks, once," she explains with a shrug, taking hold of the can opener at last.
He hums, draws his lips together and bobs his head up and down as he takes in her answer. It's still vague, but he also knows it probably as much as he's going to get out of her. "So," he starts then, looking around the place and he eyes her desk for the thumbtacks that should accompany the object. "Do you want to do the ritual now, or -?"
"Uhm," she cuts him off, eying the little clock on the edge of her desk and as she takes in the time her nerves return, and her anger comes along with it. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she mutters under her breath, throwing her hands in the air, she moves to grab her bag and flings the can opener inside. "I'm so fucking late. I have to - I have to go."
Donna's out of her door before Harvey has the chance to call after her. By the time her name does roll off of his tongue, he hears the fronts-or fall shut. "See you… tonight," he whispers to himself.
.
Closing the book as the conductor's voice echoes through the coupé again, Gordon glances out of the window as the train makes its way into Grand Central Station. It's been a while since he's visited the city, a smile instantly finding its way to his face as he takes in his surroundings and checks his phone.
Waiting for you on the main concourse - H
Gordon grins and rolls his eyes; he remembers the first time he went to visit his oldest son. They also decided to meet at the station, and it had taken them a near fifteen minutes to find one another, he'd commented about picking a different location, but Harvey had always been a creature of habits. Especially inconvenient ones.
I'll be there soon, he texts back before putting his phone away and reaching for his bag from the overhead storage space. He waits for the other passengers to leave before he follows them out of the train and makes his way to the middle of the main concourse.
To their credit, they have gotten better at it, and it takes only five minutes before Gordon spots and hears his son. Bag dropping to the ground, he welcomes his son in a one-armed hug. "Harvey."
"Dad," Harvey greets his old man, patting him on the back twice before pulling back. "Glad you could make it."
"Anything for our favourite redhead."
Harvey rolls his eyes, but it's a comment close like the ones he's heard more than once before and it's often followed up by either Marcus or himself complaining their father wanted a daughter. He holds back his usual reply this time around.
"She'll be happy to see you, I'm sure," Harvey answers, at last, reaching down and swinging his father's duffle bag over his shoulder. "Do you want to drop this off first or grab something to eat?"
Gordon checks his watch; it's just past four - meaning the play won't be for another two hours. He's also sure Donna wanted to go to dinner with them after the play, if he remembers their conversation correctly, so he opts for the prior.
"Everything alright?" Gordon inquires as they make their way to the subway.
"Yeah," Harvey mumbles in return, but an immediate sigh and shrug follow his answer. "I don't know," he admits then, "I guess, it's just… she seems more nervous about the performance than usual, and I found myself on the receiving end of it this morning."
Gordon takes in his son's answer, smiling at last as he nods in understanding.
"What?" Harvey frowns.
"Well, that's what boyfriends are for."
Harvey bobs his head a tad to the left, eyebrow raised along with it and his look should say enough but he speaks anyway. "Hilarious."
"Are you sure this fake dating thing was a good idea?"
Weeks ago he would have said yes instantly and his stubborn side makes him nod now too. His father knows better anyway. The words that follow don't even fool the law student himself.
"We've done nothing now we haven't done before."
It's a lie, and he knows it, but he won't say it out loud.
Gordon reads it off of his face, the way his shoulders hang and the drawn out-breath. But he doesn't comment on it, not again.
Their conversation quiets down after that; the next words only exchanged when their subway comes to a halt at their destination. Gordon follows his oldest out of the train and up the stairs to the street level. Taking a deep breath, he takes it all in again. The city he grew up in, fell in love and where they had Harvey. The latter being only five when they moved to Boston.
.
"You're going to do great."
She bobs her head to the side, draws her bottom lip between her teeth and eyes Sean. She knows he's right and she's irrational about it. More so than at other performances these past years.
Sean steps to the makeup chair Donna is sitting in, wrapping his left arm around her shoulder as he does so. "And they know what they're missing."
She lets her head rest against his side, and she watches him in the mirror, taking in his words. She knows her friends wouldn't miss it for the world, Harvey in particular. She realises then they're not just her friends, but Sean's too, and he's also used to having them around. "You're right," she answers, bringing her right hand up to squeeze his left that's resting on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I just… I wished they were here."
She reaches for her mascara then, leaning forward ever so slightly towards the illuminated mirror to apply the last part of her makeup. As she does so, she takes in her friend's costume in the reflection. It looks different from the previous time they rehearsed in full costume a week ago.
Sean notices the one over the redhead gives him, and he smirks as he strikes a pose right behind her. "Figured if my talent doesn't get to shine on stage, at least my costume can," he reasons, motioning to the shiny fabric stitched in a panel on the side.
Donna chuckles softly, Sean doesn't need any help in the ego stoking department, but she is the first to defend his wasted talent in this play. She's more mesmerised by the adjustments to his garment though. "You did that?" She asks, turning around, letting her fingertips slide over the cord that lines the side of his jacket.
He hums proudly.
"When Broadway becomes too small for you, I want a Cahill original," Donna says but before Sean gets a chance to answer there are three hurried knocks on the door.
"I knew he'd show up," the actor reasons.
Sean doesn't mention any name but Donna's breath hitches, all the same. Swallowing thickly, she feels her stomach turn.
Sean leans down to press a kiss against her cheek, squeezing her shoulder one last time before he makes his way to the door of the dressing room. "You're going to be fabulous. I'll see you during intermission."
Donna nods, mouths good luck to Sean in return and then glances back at the mirror in front of her. Fixing her hair one more time, she takes a deep breath just before the door opens. The exchange Donna overhears is not what she expected, so she turns to look at the door. Seeing Sean greet Samantha with a hug, she smiles at the blonde, but it falters quickly.
"I just wanted to say hi before this thing kicks off," Samantha explains, letting go of Sean and making her way over to the redhead. The blonde greets her with a hug as well.
"What…" Donna stammers, taking a couple of seconds to adjust to the situation. "What are you doing here?"
"Rachel told me she couldn't make it and you know I lived for these holiday productions."
.
"Come on."
Gordon holds back a sigh and follows his son through the crowd, any comments on not having to hurry futile cause he's pretty sure his oldest doesn't want to hear them after he once more asked if it was just a charade between the two best friends. The reasoning for that particular question clutched tightly into Harvey's right hand; a bouquet.
It's also the first thing Samantha spots as she makes her way through the crowd in the opposite direction. She heard from Rachel on their last chat, but the sight still catches her off guard. She smirks then though, coming to a halt in the path and she sees the law student do the same.
"I see Donna did make an honest man out of you?"
Harvey rolls his eyes, at whom he isn't sure anymore when he hears his father snicker behind him. He draws his brows together into a stern look and bobs his head to the side. "Really, in front of my father?"
Gordon laughs louder this time around, sidestepping to get next to his son. "I didn't hear her say anything I didn't already know, Harvey," he counters, patting his son on his back, he extends his hand towards the blonde. "Since my son has no manners, Gordon Specter, nice to meet you."
"Samantha Wheeler-Zane," the twenty-eight-year-old answers, shaking Gordon's hand. "I'm Rachel's sister and a friend of Donna. I thought you had a class?" She asks, returning her attention to Harvey.
Harvey draws in a breath, his jaw tensing a little and he can feel his father's eyes turning in his direction. "I didn't," he lies, and he looks down at the flowers in his hand. "I -" He swallows in the rest of his sentence and sighs when the lights start blinking, indicating the play is about to start, and he has missed his chance to drop the flowers off in the dressing room.
"Ooh, we should get to our seats."
Gordon nods at Samantha's words, his hand finding his son's shoulder again. He squeezes it softly. "You can give them after the show."
Harvey thinks over his options for a moment, the only one being what both his father and Samantha already said.
.
She takes in a deep breath, slowly exhaling as she pulls on the edge of her costume. The play is well underway, but her first appearance is in about a minute, and she has been standing between the curtains for a good five minutes now. To soak in the atmosphere she loves so much, getting a glimpse of how the audience perceives it. She isn't able to see them at all from her position, but she can hear the oohs and aaws, the laughter. She shuffles on her spot, kicking her heels against her toes and she runs her lines through her head once more.
The lighting changes then, and it's go-time. Stepping aside for her fellow students leaving the stage, Donna quickly makes her way to her spot, head hanging low for one last deep breath and she tilts her head the second the lighting turns on again.
It's then; at that moment that she sees the three of them. Samantha on the left, Gordon on the right and Harvey is sitting in the middle. Her focus instantly on the one person she had now convinced herself she was okay about missing the show.
But he's there, sitting on the first row.
She catches a bright smile spread across his face when he seems to spot her too. Donna's breath falters, her heart stammers in her chest, and for a moment, it's just him and her and an overwhelming sense of happiness at his presence.
She blinks again, feels the corner of her mouth twitch, but she manages to hold back the smile and not break character. Her head turns to the left again as she hears Daniel's voice, and it's somewhat of a miracle that she still manages to kick off her monologue. Her heart beating faster, her mind keeps racing over the same thoughts - he's there.
He's there.
.
He's there.
He's - she just about manages to hold back a yelp as she feels a pull on her arm, dragging her further behind the stage and she stares at Sean with wide eyes. Her first scene was over, but she hadn't expected to see him until intermission, and she pats his hand away. "What?" she breathes out her inquiry.
"What?" He murmurs back with a bewildered look on his face, wide eyes staring at her. "What happened?" he returns the question. "You missed your cue, and you never miss it."
She draws in a deep breath, biting down on her lip. She knows Sean is right, she missed it. It was a second. One simple second, no one would have noticed, but he did. She should have known he'd watch her first scene from between the curtains, he always does. "It's nothing," she pauses hesitatingly, but she already knows she won't get away with her answer. "It's just… I saw Harvey and I-"
"Ooh," Sean's answer comes with a grin, broad enough to shut her up. "You had the moment."
"The what now?" She asks.
"The moment when you realise you're in love with someone."
Sean's answer takes her by surprise, so much so that it leaves her speechless. Not because she wouldn't know a witty remark to refute them since it was just an act. It was supposed to be an act, but because it's as if every confusing feeling and thought she has experienced in the last couple of days has finally got summed up in words.
You're in love.
She lets the meaning of the words sink in for a moment. Just these words without any thoughts spared on the complications of the situation, she's still unable to formulate any words, but her facial expression tells Sean enough - she smiles.