Just a little one-shot based on a CuriousCat prompt that I received. Beta'd by Heather and Sam.
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prompt: harvey finishes his sentence [9x01]
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parallel
It's late — or maybe it's early now, but what she feels isn't the hour. It's him; everywhere, all around and above her, his eyes locked on hers, his chest pressed against her breasts, fingers in her hair, bodies joined beneath the sheet. Her own fingers draw up his back, nails tracing his spine until they reach the hair on the back of his head and wander, searching for every piece of him that she has spent years longing to touch. In turn, his movements are slow — faint but enough that they register within her and she feels… she can't put into words what she feels. She feels everything.
With him, finally.
"Say it again," Donna says suddenly, longing to hear the words that he has whispered into her skin and against her lips a dozen times tonight.
Somehow, it feels different now with his eyes on her — an intensity that she has only seen from Harvey a few times surfacing but even still, this isn't the same as any other time. She knows what this means. He knows what this means. "I looked around and you weren't there," Harvey replies, his voice thick with emotion.
It's overwhelming; being looked at like this, being held like this, and the hardly noticeable jerk of his hips has Donna at a loss for words a second longer.
"I'm here now."
She is, and he is, and they're together after what feels like a lifetime of feeling lost, though she's never really been lost at his side, just… searching. Waiting.
There's a shift in the silence of her bedroom as Harvey inhales, a wave of regret flashing through his eyes and tensing in his shoulders but it isn't for her and Donna knows that. For the first time, neither of them are afraid of what this means because they know what this means even if they haven't verbalized it. Action and emotion tends to say more for them, anyway.
"What?"
"I just wish I'd," he shakes his head lightly, eyebrow raising, "Come to my senses sooner."
"It's okay," Donna chuckles, "I was worth the wait."
She was, they were, and they both know it because whatever comes next is it, for life and whether it had been yesterday or years earlier, they may not have been ready because they needed this — this sense of absolute certainty. She needed to find fault in her rule and Harvey needed to find faith in himself.
"Donna," he says. Another shift, but this time, it isn't regret or longing. It's something familiar yet foreign, a look that she's seen cross his face before — only for her — with more meaning than she has ever known and now… now it's tangible, and open. Now it holds confidence and clarity and Donna feels like she might fall apart under his gaze.
She knows. She didn't then, or at least she hadn't let herself years ago in the living room down the hall but she does now in the safety of her own bedroom but more importantly, the safety of his arms.
"I know—"
"No," Harvey interrupts, "I mean, you do but… Donna, I need to tell you. I need to tell you that you matter and you have from that very first night and it took me years to admit that to myself. Not that… not that you matter but why you have always mattered more. Above everyone else, why I couldn't risk you. You taught me how to trust completely. You trust me," he gives her this look that could move mountains, "And have faith in me."
"Harvey."
"Because of you, I know what it means to want everything or to have nothing and Donna… I have always wanted you."
He means that he loves her — not like a brother or a cousin or a friend or a secretary, that he's in love with her. Even if he doesn't say the word now, he means it and she knows that he means it — that it's only a matter of time before he does say it. Again, and not in a way that tears their worlds apart. But what she doesn't know yet is that that word has ingrained itself in his vocabulary solely for her, with every piece and edge of who she is from how she understands him, to the sound of her laugh or her hand in his, to the fact that he will carry around a ring, not just any ring, just for her.
She will say yes when he asks, and he will ask.
Between her "we have to get some sleep" and his mumbled "everything's changed", a floodgate seems to open in her mind as Harvey succumbs to sleep. Donna feels content, happy, and truly whole for the first time in a long time, maybe even the first time in her lifetime. She isn't scared of what comes next or the changes that they will face but the gravity of their past, present, and future is definable now; not just in the love that she feels for and from him or what they have spent most of the night doing but because she feels secure in their current embrace. They have always been like this — their interlock equal, holding each other with everything that they have but now… now the depth isn't lost on either of them.
Why?
You know why. You know I love you, Donna.
Donna.
I know.
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Thank you for reading! Comments, criticism, and the works are always welcome.