A/N: Title from the Kings of Leon version of Dancing On My Own (same lyrics as the original, haha, it's just that I was thinking about that cover when I picked this title)
It's been the whole shitshow with Colonel Mariga, and the stress with Jessica, and the pressure of making sure Ava doesn't go to jail for something she didn't do, and the million other things that have been making his life difficult lately.
And now it's this.
His angle from the stairs gives him a partial view, something he thinks he might soon be grateful for. But from here he can see enough.
The stupid fucking piano he could hear as soon as he set foot inside the restaurant, which he now realizes is Stephen playing, all suave asshole.
The empty place and the waiters packing up - and the hour. He knows Donna, knows she likes to arrive late to places, but even so. They must have been here for some time now, which means they are having a good time together.
He once spent six hours with Donna at a bar, he thinks back.
His eyes fall on her soon after, and he has to swallow the sudden dryness of his throat.
He sees her back, naked and expansive and inviting to the touch. He can see the deep line of her spine, her shoulder blades jutting out a little bit from how she's sitting. He has a sudden flash of memory of the bumps of her vertebrae undulating beneath his fingertips, her skin smooth and warm. Right after that he pictures Stephen Huntley's palm running down her back and dipping beneath the fabric and he almost gags.
She looks perfect in white, it's always been his favorite color on her. It contrasts against her fair skin and lights her hair on fire. It's elegant and sexy and she always wears the hell out of it.
She laughs a little, maybe at something he said, shakes her head and tells him something else. Harvey can't hear her words, but he can hear her tone, and that's enough for him to know she's being playful and flirty and it's not a tone he hears often, not unless it's directed at him.
Harvey feels like a bit of a creep standing here, looking in on their private moment, but he can't stop himself. It's that thing where you're watching something terrible unfold but you can't look away; the dark, sadistic side of humans, maybe.
He can see her left arm stretched out, presumably her hand's on his thigh. They exchange some more words and he leans in and kisses her. Donna brushes her nose against Stephen's, and something shifts inside of Harvey.
It's not that he's never seen her with a boyfriend before. It's not that he has a problem with that, exactly. There's just something about Stephen, something that screams ownership, like the smug bastard has her and he knows it. Donna told him it's just sex, but they're kissing and touching and laughing in restaurants in a way Harvey has certainly never done with anyone he was just sleeping with.
Maybe, just maybe, it's the fact that Stephen works with her. All this time Harvey was work and the other guys were play and maybe he never had a problem with that because he knew at the end of the day she'd always come to work and they'd be them. But Stephen is work too, and apparently play, and he has more of Donna than Harvey thought any guy could have and it makes him think of forbidden nights and long-established rules and the line he was never invited to cross.
He doesn't want to be a possessive, controlling dick, but he also can't shake the feeling that… well, she's his. She may be many other men's, but at work, where she excels and shines and does her magic, she'd always been just his. And she assured him she's not working for Stephen, but it's not just about her working for him or not. It's about the fact that Harvey always saw the office as his territory, regardless of what went on in her life outside those doors. And if she's with Stephen, someone who also exists within those walls, then who's to say it won't soon be his territory as well?
He told her it bothers him but he doesn't even know what exactly it is that does, or why, or what to do with that information. All he knows is that he's watching her kiss Stephen and it's making his stomach churn and his head ache and the fire that was already burning within him from finding out Huntley had messed with his case increases tenfold in a way he isn't even sure is justifiable. But whatever, the guy is a jerk, he doesn't need to pull any punches.
When they part and he feels comfortable enough to interrupt, he flies down the rest of the steps and tries not to be bothered by how much harsher her name suddenly sounds on his tongue.