Hi everyone, remember me? The last half-year has been wild cause I actually bought a house and while I don't have the key yet, planning everything for it has taken up most of my time next to work. But as the days got shorter and the holidays came nearer, I got more and more questions for updates and obviously, I couldn't just let this opportunity slide.. cause yes X-mas Eve Eve is finally here in the story.
Anyway, happy holidays to all of you. I hope you all stay safe and have a great time. Here's my latest (short) update, I hope you'll enjoy it and I'd love to know what you think.
X- M
MISTLETOE MYSTERY
CHAPTER XVI
"We shouldn't."
It isn't a 'we can't' nor an 'I don't want this' because, if anything, she wants it. She wants it so much it almost physically hurts, but it wouldn't be more than a moment, and a moment isn't enough. Not anymore.
Even if she'd be fine afterwards, probably broken-hearted but fine – eventually. So while her own heart is something she'd be willing to risk, their friendship isn't.
Her whisper is, "we're best friends."
It's a "this is supposed to be pretend."
It's a questionable statement, one she can't help but wish for him to rebut. The sigh that follows and feeling the mattress shift under his weight as he turns on his back tells her enough, though.
She swallows, pressing her eyes shut even firmer. She is the one to have called it off, but her eyes fill with tears all the same as she turns on her back too. Staying as still as possible, trying to fight the tears from escaping, but when she hears the ruffle of the sheets once more a minute later, indicating Harvey's now turned his back towards her, a soft sob escapes.
Her eyes open wide, and Donna presses her lips together in a beat, clenching her jaw as she quietly brings a hand to cover her mouth. She remains still and focuses on his breathing pattern, it's even, but she can't make out whether he's still awake or not. Either way, laying here beside him is too much, and she carefully pushes the duvet aside, swinging her feet over the edge and making her way to the living room.
.
Feeling and hearing his heart pound in his ears, he stares at the ceiling, wondering what the hell just transpired. He'd been so close to kissing her; before her words stopped whatever was happening between them. The sigh that followed on his part due to frustration and confusion.
Mostly the latter, because he feels like this wasn't the first moment they had this day. Not even the first moment they had this month, most done for the sole purpose of pretending – this wouldn't have been.
She would have known that; she's Donna.
Maybe that's why she cut it off.
Then, he turns on his side, pressing his lips together as he swallows thickly at that thought. One he always believed to be accurate until a few days ago. When Donna freaked out at her mother finding out, it made him wonder if the act they're putting up together means more to her too.
It's soft but just loud enough of a noise for him to break his train of thoughts.
A sob.
The hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he peers up over his shoulder, not yet fully turning over. But when he notices the redhead getting out of the bed and hearing another deep breath coming from her, he believes he is right.
It means something to her too.
He turns around, left-hand landing on the empty spot beside him as he catches a glimpse of her silhouette slipping out of his room before his bedroom door shuts his off. "Donna," he mumbles her name, contemplating going after her – wondering about what to say - he doesn't get to overthink it much as the door to his bedroom opens again.
His heart skips a beat when the redhead appears in the frame. He mouths a greeting, and there's so little light he can only just make out the way her lips curl up into a small smile when she tiptoes back to the bed.
"Sorry," he hears her say, and he notices the way she fidgets with her fingers as she slides her knee onto the duvet; and he recognises the gestures as the way her nerves usually display themselves.
"I just – "
"It's okay," he says, offering her a soft smile. Then, pressing his hands down on the mattress, he moves to sit. Scooting a little bit closer to the redhead as he does so, meeting her halfway because he's just as nervous, if not more. Keeping his gaze on her, he waits then - letting her decide where this goes.
A moment passes; he holds his breath when eventually she moves—pressing her other knee onto the bed too. She stalls just before him, taking a second and then pushes her left knee over his, her fingertips coming to rest on his shoulders as she sits down on his lap.
He swallows thickly, but it's not enough to stop the jolt rushing down his frame at her touch, her proximity - one he's sure she notices because of the smirk that appears on her face right after. And if he had any doubts left about where this night was going, she takes it away when he feels her hands slide down his chest as she angles her hips, his own hands tentatively settling on her thighs just above her knees.
His eyes fall shut, head tilting back as he moans her name as she does it again. The next thing he feels, apart from his straining sweatpants, is her index finger pressing against his lips, and he turns to look at her again. Even in the dark, he can make out the way her lips part, how her auburn locks cascade down her back as she tilts her head back when she grinds against his growing erection once more.
Harvey drags his gaze down her face, her neck, her heaving torso. The way her shirt clings to her breasts and how they are almost in his face every time she moves. He groans, and after so many communication struggles, he doesn't have enough willpower to wonder how a mere sound is suddenly enough because the next thing he knows, he's watching her lift her shirt over her head, revealing her bare chest to him.
Where his mind draws completely blank, Harvey's body moves on automatic pilot - licking his lips at the sight of her taut nipples, seeing the effect this is having on her, turning him on even more. He moves his hands over her thighs to her waist, his thumb moving over her skin as she presses down on his groin once more, bringing her head forward, so her forehead is leaning against his.
He's already feeling hot; his face flushes when her hot breath reaches his nose, but he keeps his eyes locked on her breasts, slowly moving his hands up—ghosting over her skin, to her ribs, lingering near the underside of her breasts. Finally, he cups one with his right hand, moving his thumb over her nipple, exempting a moan from her.
Harvey looks up then, her head still pressed against his own. She's so close; all he sees when she finally opens her eyes are her dilated pupils, much like twice before today. He takes one last breath, moving his free hand to cup her face, and then –
"We shouldn't."
Harvey wakes up from his dream with a jolt, breathing heavily. His body isn't the only thing that sits upright in bed. Running a hand over his face, he shifts in his spot and then slowly turns to look at his left.
Half expecting it to be empty, as it was when he fell asleep, he spots her there. Sleeping on the edge, but she's there, and his dick twitches at the realisation and mere memory of the dream he was having.
"Fuck," he breathes. Then, pushing his sheets aside, he goes to the bathroom for a cold shower.
When he returns, he finds Donna is still asleep. The time on his alarm tells him it's just 6.11 am, and he opts to go for a run over returning to bed. Scribbling down his whereabouts on a post-it, he places it on her side of the bed and leaves.
.
.
.
He chugs the remainder of his coffee back; the beverage has gone cold, but it didn't taste the same, even when hot. Looking around the small diner, he lets his gaze drag back to the empty booth seat across from him – having breakfast without Donna just isn't it, but at the same time, he wasn't exactly ready to face her yet after the events of last night.
They almost kissed - not a 'we're pretending'-moment, nor a 'we're staring just a little too long while being too close'-moment, but a 'she actually had to stop him' – kind of almost kiss.
Harvey swivels the empty cup around in his hand, swallowing as he thinks about it again. She stopped him from kissing her – it threw him off his game, still does, and he probably would have accepted for what it was, thinking back to all the times before she jokingly put him in his place if it wasn't for Donna's reaction after.
He did hear the redhead leave his bedroom. But, too stumped by Donna's words, he didn't go after her. Once more, something he regrets but then again, when he woke up and looked around – she was there.
She came back.
He shakes his head, pushing the erotic images of his dream aside. Instead, he focuses on the part the night did have in common: Donna coming back. He may not have been awake in real life, but he was in his dream, and he concentrates on the nerves she showed there.
He likes to believe that's what happened, that she got scared. Scared of how it might change them and if that's truly what happened, he cannot even blame her because nerves are what he's felt every second of the past month by just being near her.
"Do you want to order lunch?"
"Huh." He shakes his head, clearing his thoughts as he glances up at the waitress who looks at him expectantly. "Uhm," he mutters, turning down to look at his watch; he realises it's past noon already. "No, sorry, I uhm… I have to go."
.
.
.
He shivers the second he steps outside. The tracksuit Harvey put on this morning for the gym is not enough to keep him warm, but he doesn't feel like running home either, even with the snow starting to fall again.
Keeping close to the buildings, he crosses the campus, and his eye falls on the remaining stalls of the weihnachtsmarkt. He isn't sure how or why, but his feet automatically carry him over there anyway -the booth where it all started in particular. It looks exactly the same as it did years ago, the mistletoe hanging from the metal framing. He draws his lip between his teeth and swallows thickly before tearing his gaze away and dragging his feet across the snow-covered cobblestones.
"Looking for a last-minute gift?"
The question breaks him from his daze, and his brows draw together as he turns to face the merchant.
"Are you looking for a gift?" the old lady repeats her question, signalling to the items on display in front of her.
He isn't, not really. For once, he'd picked out a gift ahead of time, but before he can answer, something catches his eye - a small pendant of the Eiffel Tower. The memory of Donna's reaction to the globe sporting the same landmark is enough to make him step closer, and upon further inspection, he notices how the silver pendant comes with a tiny rose gold heart dangling from the chain at the top.
The woman smiles as she sees the young man lift a box from the table. "A perfect choice," she agrees. "For your girlfriend?"
"Hopefully." The word slips out before he can catch himself, and he coughs once after. "I mean.. we aren't -"
The woman smiles and nods, taking the little box from his hand. "She'd be a fool to say no to a nice young man like yourself."
He doesn't respond to that; he simply presses his lips together in a slight smile reaching for his wallet.
The woman places the wrapped box in a tiny gift bag, moves to hand it over but pauses midway. Then, grabbing a decoration piece from the back of her table, she adds it in. "Good luck."
"Thank you."
.
.
.
Moving a garland around yet again, Donna receives the umpteenth curious look from her roommate that day - it's honestly a surprise she hasn't commented on it yet.
Yet, being the operative word because Rachel lets out a sigh and moves towards her friend, gently pulling the sting from her hand, she drops it back over the frame. "This looks fine," she reasons, glancing at Donna once more. "You, however…" she pauses with a simple shake of her head. "Are you fine? You and Harvey? I thought you two made up."
Donna draws in a breath, bringing her hands together in front of her she fidgets with the end of her sleeve. Her answer is nothing more than a non-committing hum.
"I know I told you before," Rachel continues as she tosses a couple of pillows to the pile in the middle of the room. "But I am here if you want to talk."
"I know," Donna answers automatically, but it still results in a look from Rachel that inquires if she genuinely does. "I know," she repeats. "It's just -"
"He used to be your go-to person."
Donna nods but thinks it over anyway. "He still is, but…."
"But now he's the boyfriend you used to complain to him about."
Donna opens her mouth, ready to dispute but pauses mid-way when Rachel arches a brow. "I guess, not that— " she pauses her argument once more, letting out a long, deep breath.
"You could just ask him to listen or respond as your best friend," Rachel suggests then. "Or tell him you're still getting used to him now being both."
"Yeah," Donna mutters quietly, thinking over her roommate's suggestion. "Yeah, I guess so.."
"So," Rachel muses, walking to the box of decorations on the couch; she reaches inside and pulls out a bundle of green leaves. "Where should we hang this?"
Donna's eyes widen the moment she spots the mistletoe dangling from her roommate's fingers, and her stomach contracts. "I.. uhm.." she stammers, watching Rachel move through the room. "Can we not hang it, please?"
Rachel comes to an abrupt halt, giving Donna an inquiring look.
"You know the story."
"I do," Rachel starts, picking on one of the leaves. "I just figured since you're with -" but she halts her objections when she notices Donna still shaking her head. She nods then, returning the ornament back to the box.
"Thanks," Donna whispers, pressing her lips into a thin line. She folds her hands together and rocks back and forth on her spot. "Anything else you need me to help with?"
Rachel closes the box and looks around the living room once more; the tree Sean gifted them is decorated, blankets and pillows scatter the floor, and the coffee table is filled games.
"I think we have most of it," she says. "The cake is still in the oven, glühwein is simmering, so just the hot chocolate left."
"I'll go change and focus on the drinks."
.
.
.
Picking on the strap of her dress, she runs her palms down her hips twice as she stares at the pot on the stove, willing it to do something, anything to take her mind off of him and what almost happened last night.
That and Rachel's suggestion to just ask him to listen.
Donna shifts on her spot and reaches forward for the wooden spoon to stir the spices through the mulled wine. Her gaze slowly follows the star anise as it floats around the pot; her mind drifts off once more on how to talk to Harvey.
"So uhm… the guy I'm fake dating," she whispers, pressing her lips together as she inhales through her nose, taking a moment for herself before blurting it out. "He tried to kiss me last night and –"
"And?"
"And I regret stopping it from happening."
She shakes out of her thoughts when the doorbell rings. Letting the wooden spoon slip back into the pot, she rushes out to the small corridor separating the kitchen from the living room – catching Rachel's eye the second she appears; she motions for her roommate to stay there with Katrina, Dana, Sean and Tanner.
The guests' combination can mean only one thing; it's either Jessica or Mike and Harvey.
She tiptoes through the living room and turns to the hallway, taking one last deep breath before she opens the door and her heart instantly skips a beat when her gaze finds his.
He freezes on his spot, feeling his heartbeat in his throat as his mouth automatically opens to utter a greeting, but no words leave his lips.
Mike looks back and forth between the couple, brows knitting together as neither of them speaks or moves. Finally, he coughs once, hitting Harvey's arm with his elbow as he steps forward, loudly pronouncing the redhead's name as he does so.
Donna snaps out of her trance then, tearing her gaze away from him at last, and she turns to look at Mike. Her lips automatically curl up into a grin as her friend steps forward, enveloping her in a hug. Her arms automatically fall around the blonde's back, whispering her holiday greetings in return. Her gaze drifts off to Harvey once more when she hears the front door fall shut, and she lets Mike go then.
He watches as his roommate lets her go, leaving them alone in the small hallway and the nerves he felt mere seconds ago return just as fast, forming a pit in his stomach.
"Hey," he whispers, taking a small step towards her.
She feels her breath falter once more as she whispers the greeting in return. Her arms are still awkwardly hanging in the air, and somehow the only logical thing her body decides on doing is greeting Harvey the same way Mike welcomed her.
Her arms slide over his shoulders, and he stiffens at her sudden touch. Only answering her motion when her arms wrap around his neck, bringing herself even closer and then his arms wrap around her too. Low around her waist, holding her firmly against his frame, his head automatically sinking in the crook of her neck – the familiar smell of vanilla holding him in place.
They stay wrapped up in one another's embrace for a moment, too long of a moment, really, especially after last night, and she only pulls back when she notices Harvey rolling his injured shoulder.
Stepping back, she gently lifts her hands from his frame, pulling them behind her back as she suddenly doesn't know what to do with them anymore. Rachel's words come to mind again; just talk to him. "I uhm," she mumbles, looking over her shoulder and then back to him for a second before averting her gaze to the floor. "I'll go grab you a drink."
Harvey swallows thickly and merely nods as he catches her backing out of the hallway; he waits until she's full and well into the living room before he kicks into motion. Then, shrugging off his coat, he moves it between his hands as he reaches inside the little bag hidden in his inner pocket to retrieve her gift, not noticing the mistletoe the vendor added falling to the ground as he hangs his coat on the rack with the others.
Mike presses a kiss to Rachel's lips, smiling at her brightly as she pulls back and pats him on his chest, silently motioning for him to hang his coat. "Yes, ma'am," he mumbles, pulling her in for a kiss one last time before he drags his feet back to the hallway. Tapping Harvey on his shoulder as they switch places.
Clutching onto the little box, Harvey moves a hand through his hair and joins his friends in the living room. Nodding left and right, he smiles at them all as he rounds the group and gets close to the Christmas tree near the big window.
As he lets his coat fall onto the empty chair in the corner of the hallway, Mike's scarf drops onto the floor. Reaching down to pick up the red woollen scarf, a little bundle of green leaves catches Mike's eye. Tossing the scarf in the general direction of his coat, he bends down and picks up the mistletoe.
Turning it over in his hand until the ribbon dangles between his fingers, a grin spreads across his face as Mike walks behind the couch and grabs a chair from the dining table. He scoots it towards the wall opening, quickly stepping on it, he tugs it onto the wooden frame.
Harvey's thumb flicks against the little tag attached to the ribbon, his handwriting on the underside coming into sight. He'd been at a loss as to what to write down on the little piece of paper. His thoughts are all over the place with everything that's happened in the last twenty-four hours, his feelings even more so and yet, the only thing he managed to jot down are three little words he doesn't think he'll ever be able to get over his lips.
Jumping off again, Mike pushes the chair towards the table and walks over to the kitchen. "Need any help?" he asks.
Donna tops the second cup of hot chocolate off with whipped cream, sliding both over the counter towards Mike. "If you could take these with you for you and Harvey, then I'll grab both of you a snack."
Harvey quickly squads down and pushes it under the tree, patting the tag so that only her name on the front is visible. The moment he lets go and pulls his hand back, his stomach drops, and the nerves are back in tenfold – there's no way back now, and as scared as he is to mess them up and lose her forever, staying in this limbo has become too much to bear. Something has to change, one way or another.
"Sure," Mike answers, picking up the two mugs as he returns to the living room.
Harvey manoeuvres between the tree and the cabinet, careful not to step on any of the pillows as he sits down in the empty chair next to the couch. Balling his hand into a fist to stop his fingers from trembling, Harvey tries to look anywhere but the direction of the gift he dropped under the tree.
His newest distraction is soon handed to him by Mike; he eagerly accepts the steaming mug of hot chocolate. Holding onto it with both hands, he takes a quick sip and revels in the way the warmth that spreads through him, calming him just a tad.
Just ask him to hear you out.
Donna turns to the stove to a low heat, fingers tapping against the countertop as she paces alongside the cabinet. Then, grabbing a bowl, she fills it with candy canes and gingerbread cookies and joins her friends at last.
"Don, sit down and relax for a moment, there's enough here, and we all know where the fridge is," Sean calls out, stealing the bowl from her hand. He places it on the table for her. Urging her to do as told with a flick of his wrist.
She presses her lips together in a thin smile, looks around the room, eyeing the available seats. There really aren't any, but the arm of the chair Harvey is sitting in is big enough to sit down on, and a month ago, she wouldn't have thought about it twice. Hell, a day ago, she wouldn't have hesitated, but she knows that if she wants to talk to him alone, she best do it before everyone gets there and she loses her chance altogether.
Shuffling on her spot, she takes a step back. Her knee gently brushing against his, he looks up at her in a beat and her insides summersault for the umpteenth time that day.
"Can I –" she starts, licking her lips, and she picks on the edge of her nail. "Can I uhm talk to you for a second?"
"Ooh, someone's in trouble," Tanner mocks his roommate, eyeing the couple curiously.
Harvey scowls at him, shaking his head as he pushes himself onto his feet regardless of Tanner's mockery. He nods at the redhead then, motioning he'll follow her.
Her heart rate picks up a beat as he gets up, and she quickly turns around on her spot, stepping over one of the pillows as she moves behind the couch and towards the kitchen, Harvey in tow.
"Ooh, could you bring some napkins back?" Rachel calls after her, causing Donna to halt right under the wall opening. Harvey automatically stalls right beside her.
"Sure," she answers, tilting her head ever so slightly, and that's when she spots it, hanging right above their heads – a mistletoe.
Harvey catches the way her mouth slowly parts as her gaze lifts to the ceiling, his following soon after.
The rest seems to notice their situation then too, Tanner is the one to comment in the end. "Well, go on," he urges. "Kiss your girl."
Harvey swallows thickly, Adam's apple bopping as he does so and only then does he lower gaze from the tiny green leaves hanging above his head to the redhead in front of him. His hands suddenly clam, his breathing getting a little faster when her gaze locks with his – the two of them gradually moving closer.
His gaze searches hers for any kind of objection, but unlike last night, there is none. Instead, he notices a nod, so small no one but him would see there was even a discussion going on, but he takes it as his cue – taking one more step in her direction.
Her heart skips a beat when his toes touch hers, her focus slipping from his deep brown eyes to his lips. They're slowly parting, and she finds herself wetting her own mere seconds before his thumb brushes over her skin, cupping her face in his right hand as he leans in.
His breath is hot on her skin, goosebumps forming all over her arms. Her heart is beating out of her chest, and while her mind is a mess, telling her one thing and another, she listens to none of it cause all she wants to do is cross that line, and so she does. Pressing her toes down on the ground, she angles her head, and then his lips brush against hers.
It's a delicate kiss, his mouth moving against hers as if they've been doing it for years, and it feels so natural that when his free hand grips onto her waist and he softly tugs on her bottom lip, hers follow willingly.
Mike's 'get a room' covered up by a cough is what makes her pull back at last. That and the fact that she's slightly out of breath – and more than overwhelmed. Her forehead rests against his, and when her mind finally catches up with the activities of the last minute, she suddenly feels cold, as if she's standing outside in the snow and she can taste the mulled wine neither of them has drunk yet.
Her breath falters, the pit in her stomach grows.
But now she knows.