Hey guys!
I saw something on my Twitter page about Harvey carrying Donna to bed. I can't remember exactly where I saw it, but I did remember that I've had this sitting in my notes for ages, so why not share. Sharing is caring after all
Again, please mind my limited vocabulary. I genuinely find it difficult to formulate words without using a thesaurus.
Lots of love,
Gabby.
God.
Safe to say, tonight has been a long one.
All the dinner guests had gone for the night, and Harvey being a classic gentleman and wanting to be as much help as possible, had stayed behind to help Donna clean up. But really it was because he wanted to spend more time with her. This was her element after all; talking, socialising, hosting a not-as-bad-as-he-thought-it-would-be party. His sleeves were rolled up, and his sweater strewn over the back of a dining chair. They'd just managed to pack away the remainder of the cutlery, Harvey now getting to work on the dishes and Donna packing leftovers into containers.
"Your mom wasn't that bad." He's scrubbing hard at one of the plates, a stain that just won't come off. She's behind the fridge door, rummaging for something, seemingly not hearing his comment.
"Hm?"
"Your mom. She's nice."
"Is she now?"
"I think so."
There's a short silence. Suddenly her head pops up from behind the fridge door, and she shuts it with slight force.
"Harvey, if you sleep with my mother, so help me god- "
Harvey laughs and he drops the sponge in the sink, turning to her. "No, Donna! I'm just making a flattering comment about your mother. That's all it is. I promise."
Donna glares at him for a second, and he gives her a smile turning back to the dishes.
"Better be." She opens the fridge again, disappearing behind it.
"Her date though..."
He leaves the statement hanging. Donna emerges once again, closing the fridge behind her and grabbing a dish cloth. Now side to side with Harvey, she starts helping him dry.
"It won't last."
"You don't think so?"
"I know so."
He pauses for a bit to look at her, she doesn't look back, her attention completely on drying the dishes to the best of her capabilities.
"And what makes you say that?"
She shrugs her shoulders, stacking the plates on one another, "she is my mother after all."
"Well, you do know best."
"I really do."
Donna meets his eyes this time to share a smile. It's small, but it's still there. He helps her pack away the dishes and she's on her toes trying to shove something up onto the highest shelf. As soon as he notices, he's by her side, taking it out of her hands and putting it up there himself. He looks down at her and smirks. Hands on her hips, she looks at him with a not so appreciative look. "I had that, you know."
"Oh, did you? I couldn't tell by all the struggling that was happening."
"I don't need a man to help me put away my plates."
He reaches over to the bench to grab the bowls, putting them neatly beside the plates and swiftly closing the cupboard. "No. You need a tall man."
She scoffs at him and follows him out of the kitchen walking closely behind.
"I'll have you know I'm 5 foot 9, and you are very much barely above the average height for a male."
He looks down at her again and scrunches his eyebrows, feigning ignorance.
"Really? Could've fooled me."
As she opens her mouth, some sort of clever retort on the tip of her tongue, he's slumping onto the couch, leaning forward to grab the remote. One arm on the back and one hand on the remote, he switches through channels and she decides to save that retort for another day. She sits on the opposite end of the couch watching as he flicks through channels.
Knees tucked in close to her chest, her focus suddenly becomes a daze and she feels herself drifting off. She opens her eyes abruptly, wide enough to keep herself awake and starts watching him instead of the TV. God, he looks so good. His hair unkempt, sleeves rolled up, muscles protruding through his shirt. She can't touch him though. She can't do anything, but it's not out of the rule book to stare, and as far as she knows, she can look at the items on the shelf as long as she doesn't put them in her trolley.
"Ah, this is a good one."
His voice momentarily snaps her out of her daze. She turns her attention to the screen as he puts the remote back onto the coffee table. "Pro Bass Fishing? Really?"
"Shh, something exciting is happening."
Rolling her eyes, she rests her chin on her knees, the familiar feeling of drowsiness swooping over her once again. This time, she succumbs to it whether accidental or purposeful. She starts leaning, leaning, leaning…
And then she's on his chest.
Internal shock washes over him and he's lost all focus on the show and instead switches it to the woman literally sleeping on him. She doesn't faze though, and his heart starts beating rapidly. He wills himself to slow it down in case she wakes up from it. He tries to switch attention back to the screen in front of him, but he can't.
He's long gone now and all he can feel is her.
His muscles start to ache as he tries to remain completely still. The discomfort of it consuming him, he shifts the slightest and she stirs a bit but remains asleep. He smiles, now more relaxed, he risks running his fingers through her hair. He starts at her forehead and slowly smooths it down until it threads in her hair. Checking to see her reaction, she sighs as quietly as ever and shifts her head 'til her nose is slightly angled into Harvey's chest. He can't help but smile at how peaceful she looks and his aid in her being so. He repeats the action again, again, and again.
Harvey, suddenly starting to feel tired himself notices Pro Bass Fishing finished half an hour ago, and the clock's hands were now striking well past midnight. He didn't want to leave. He really didn't want to leave. But he had to. Not thinking twice about it, he turns the TV off and quickly and quietly shifting his way around, he manoeuvres his arm underneath her head to support it and hooks her legs over his other arm. She shifts ever so slightly, but then stops, curling into him even more. As he stands to head to her bedroom and put her to bed, he hears it.
"Hmm, Harvey."
He stops. Dead still in the middle of the living room with Donna in his arms, he stops breathing. But then she stills, subconsciously moving her hand to rest against his chest softly. He immediately feels the warmth generate through his skin and his heart swells at the action and if he didn't want to leave before, that feeling just increased tenfold. He closes his eyes and lets out a breath.
"God, Donna. What are you doing to me?" He whispers to her, but mostly to himself. He starts walking again, up the hall and into her bedroom. It's dark and he should switch on a light but doesn't in case it wakes her. As he makes his way to her bed, he bumps into several things gritting his teeth and finally stubbing his toe on the edge of her nightstand.
"For god's sake," he whispers quietly, not wanting his pain to rouse her. The sheets are still covering the bed, and he really hasn't thought this through. Bending down with Donna in his arms, he carefully grabs the edge of the blanket and pulls it down giving him access to place her gently under the covers. Doing so, he tucks her in tenderly, standing and looking at her. Not long enough to be creepy he thinks, but still, not long enough.
He glances at the other side of the bed.
Maybe, just maybe.
But, no.
Maybe in another lifetime.
He sighs, disappointment washing over him. Another almost moment, another maybe moment, and another sad one.
He doesn't want to just leave her like this, so he bends down, tucks a strand of stray hair behind her ear and places a soft kiss on her cheek.
"Goodnight, Donna."
He swears she opens her eyes then, but maybe he's just seeing things. Walking quietly out of her room, he gently closes the door, grabs his sweater and makes his way out.
Donna wakes up the next morning and immediately turns to the empty side of her bed. She spreads her hand on the nothingness that lays there and stares up at the ceiling for a while. Is it regret that's washing over her currently? Frustration?
Because what Harvey didn't see when he was carrying Donna to bed was that all Donna could see in her sleep was him. And when he had his arms wrapped around her;
All she felt was him.
And what Harvey couldn't see was that when he kissed her, her heart stopped beating.
He didn't see her wake up.
He didn't see her reach out for him as he closed the door behind him, and he didn't hear her call his name into the darkness gently as the door softly clicked shut.
He didn't see her lying there for another half hour, wanting him to come back. Desperately wanting him back. Waiting, waiting.
She drifted off again, her thoughts disappearing, not consuming any longer. She could wake up and maybe this could all have been a dream. Maybe Harvey didn't come over, and maybe she cleaned up herself.
Maybe she walked herself to bed and maybe she tucked herself in.
Or maybe Harvey didn't leave, and maybe he would wake up right next to her and kiss her good morning like he kissed her good night.
Maybe she's crazy.
It calmed her and sent waves of emotion and meaning flow through her system like water, but it made her crazy. She wanted him, wanted him to be closer. She might not have been conscious, but she knew he was there.
She rolls over staring at the empty space before her. She groans in frustration, gets up and gets ready for work.
When he strides into the office, he walks past her cubicle and smiles. It's different, she can tell. It's not his everyday smile at her, but nevertheless, it's still a smile. She smiles back and gets back to work, never bringing that night up again.
Until…
Until he kisses her again in that very same apartment and carries her to bed with his arms wrapped around her fully. Until he keeps kissing her again and again as they tumble into bed together. Until he doesn't leave this time but instead slides right next to her and into her arms.
Until those maybe moments become moments.