Harvey slips his key into the lock, his head spinning from the events of the past 24 hours, his body craving some rest, or at the very least a hot shower, as he notices the bottle of his beloved Bordeaux on his couch table, half empty, next to a half full glass of wine.
Someone intruded his apartment, and he was pretty sure he knew who that might have been.
Paula.
No wonder she hasn't been sticking around at the lobby.
She already was pissed as she waited for him the whole night.
And the previous evening.
He did leave her hanging at the restaurant, he did not take her calls, he did nothing.
And he would continue doing that.
At least until he would take a shower.
But as soon as the hot drops hit his shoulders, his body goes into remission.
His muscles soften up, losing the tension they have been under, and even smooth the sharp edges of his inner dilemma.
While shampooing his hair, stimulating the nerve cells in his brain with foam and fingers, he also gets aware that he would have not given two shits about Paula, while being on the way up to Donna.
He would have kissed her, things would have been taking their natural course, and
he wouldn't have to think twice about it.
But now, he has to.
Paula left.
Donna left.
A grim suspicion was about to start to grow in his chest.
Maybe the two parties in his very own love triangle intertwined.
Somehow.
In this short amount of time very unlikely, but then there was the mail delivery boy…
He should have called Donna himself.
Nevertheless, first he should get his shit together.
The meeting with Alex, the ambush on Van Dyke.
He needed to be capable to pull his very best poker face right out of his sleeve.
Top game.
Doing his Harvey Specter magic.
This other shit had to wait.
And he needed some shaving.
Rubbing the steamy mirror dry so he was able to see his face, exactly two things popped up in his mind.
First, the wrinkles around his eyes got much much deeper since yesterday.
And second, the overall expression of his face matched the description of a lost and quite disoriented puppy.
Except it was imprinted into an old man's face.
Jesus, the last night really took a toll on him.
No way he could manage Van Dyke with that set of mind, and face.
He had to look as dashing as ever, awake, aware, like the meanest shark in the tank.
Not like this.
After pouring an appropriate amount of cold water upon his face, trying to dissolve the dark shadows under his eyes, undergoing a sharp shave, and much more hair product as usual, Harvey gives up.
Now only his best suit could fix this.
The dark grey wool and silk mix of the Tom Ford provides him with a good contrast to his worn out state, even alleviating the red in his eyes.
Carefully choosing the tie and belt, along with the shoes, he feels equipped for the day.
In the end, he still remained to be Harvey Specter.
And he really did not under any circumstances want Donna to see how devastated he actually was.
He wanted to look unruinable.
Unbreakable.
Like Harvey Specter.
Donna just had to get out of there.
She knew she would be needed later on, she knew she would be an asset, but right now she was just a woman.
Who needed to flee the scene.
The things Paula said to her, nutritioning her own doubts, filling her with a tar like desperation, slowing down her casually witted responses, and burying her 10 feet under.
She was not built to fight a demise, she was built to be a threat.
And now it was the time to prepare for being exactly that.
She took a cab to her apartment, she kicked off her shoes the moment she entered, she uncorked a bottle of cooled Chardonnay, pouring herself a glass, taking a small sip before entering the bathroom in order to take a shower.
She took her time.
Using all the available products in her reach, opening a recently bought body lotion with calendula and walnut butter, investing more care on her eye makeup than usual, she began to feel armoured for the battle.
She wanted to look like nothing ever happened.
Bulletproof.
Even though her heart took one strike or even two, fuck it, let's name it, a reasonable deadly amount, she refused to look defeated.
Harvey orders Ray to make a stop at his favourite bagel shop on his way back to the Pearson Specter Litt office.
He studies the spread, assembling various combinations, choosing the contents very carefully.
Especially for Donna.
Avocado and Pancetta.
And yes, he took the smoked salmon on his cream cheese one as she recommended.
And some vanilla in his coffee.
The mango goat cheese bagel with rucola sounded like the one for Rachel,
the bacon and cheddar sounded like the one for Mike.
And Louis got the same as Harvey.
Some extra Omega 3 intake surely wouldn't do any harm.
Even to Louis.
The content of the bags he carries back to his drive smell delicious, the freshly baked goods thrilling his olfactory receptors, distinctly reminding him to what extent he was apparently starving by now.
Taking a sip from the dark roasted brew in his cup in order to rise the caffeine in his bloodstream to a more elevated level, Harvey observes how the New York City streets awaken to full bloom, inescapably resulting in a massive traffic jam.
Every wave that took away the particles of her heart, one bit by bit, turning them into sand, into foam, washing out the edge between the waters and lands, obscuring the line, the corrosion compromising the fibers of her being, well, even the makeup couldn't cover that.
She was broken.
And this time she knew she couldn't fix it herself.
She had no fucking clue what to do next.
And she claimed to be Donna.
Who was omniscient.
But not this time.
Yet, the Chardonnay was still on the table.
She decided to take another sip.
Right now, there was nothing else she could do.
Except putting on this gorgeous Donna Karan dress.
Louis' way home took a bit more time than he anticipated.
First of all, he couldn't reach Donna.
That was a problem, as Harvey made it pretty crystal clear that she was essential for their further motion against Van Dyke.
And then, to top it all off, there was the traffic jam that he did not include into the calculation of his schedule at all.
And while searching through some stuff in his drawers he even stumbled across an old sleeping shirt of Sheila.
That was not a good promise for today.
Whatever was going on with the firm, Harvey, and Donna, he had some difficulties to deal with his own issues.
Sheila would marry someone else in a couple of days.
Or in 34 hours and 28 minutes.
And 18 seconds.
Not that he was counting.
But he was.
Now it was 34 hours, 28 minutes and 12 seconds.
He still had to take a shower.
And call this lady with the breed of Maine Coons.
Yes, he missed Bruno dearly, always would, and no one could ever replace him, but there was no reason why no other specimen of god's greatest Creation of All Times, summed up to CAT, shouldn't benefit from the profit it found in Litt hands.
And the big house he got, with a garden, felt empty without a furry friend.
He missed a companion.
Someone he could take care of.
He looked at some pictures displayed on the website, and one specific kitten caught his attention.
It was not a perfect example of the breed, but it had eager and intelligent emerald eyes, curious but clever.
And he immediately fell in love.
He of course had to set a meeting, a little get to know, smelling fingers and everything, but he was sure that Balthasar, he just looked like a Balthasar, would like him too.
If he couldn't have Sheila, at least he would have Balthasar.
"MIke, what else can I say? Donna said just that, and that's about it."
Rachel thoroughly removes her makeup, while her mirrored image stares directly at Mike.
"What do you mean that's about it? This shit is huge, Rachel!"
Rachel sighs, the ambiguity forcing its way out of her.
"I know! I know it's hilariously huge."
"Can't you do something? Like talk to her or something?"
Mike shaking his head, was indeed to much for her to handle.
As if she was the one who has failed.
"Let me assure you, I tried. I reached my limits of confidentiality."
"Great, that's just fucking great."
"OK then, why don't you talk to Harvey? I mean, I bet he should have a lot to say about this as well. But that is just a wild guess."
Arriving at the office with two full bags filled with bagels, and 3 trays of coffee along with it, Harvey could not rather decide if he should feel just stupid or like a complete idiot.
No one was there.
He checked his watch, and he was actually late already.
But, despite of everything, he at least had a good excuse.
He bought breakfast.
Even a simple cream cheese bagel for Alex.
This shit was Donna's job, or it used to be.
But of course she would have known that Alex would prefer something with an extra something on top of something.
Fuck this crap.
His staff wasn't around, although he ordered them to be there.
He just wished Donna would have gone with him for the bagel hunt.
They could have had some time, some normal routine, he would have seen her in full action, ordering each bagel precisely to each specific preference, and he would have watched in awe, maybe nagging a little because she was taking so long, and maybe while they would be waiting for the order, his pinky finger would absolutely involuntarily touch hers.
Absolutely random.
In the end, this stuff happens, alright?
Instead his pinky finger absolutely involuntarily touched a frequent male customer of 200 pounds, who apparently decided not to put any investment in his personal hygiene whatsoever.
Harvey surely did not have any interest in starting this morning like that.
Or any morning at all.
Ever.
"What? What do you mean Balthasar is reserved? I'm gonna pay you triple the price you asked for on your shitty homepage, I'm gonna provide him with a proper home and everything, how can you even say that? Wh..what? You called him Lucky? I … I should sue you just for that, you..."
Louis has to take several deep breaths to calm his nerves.
"...you...very lucky person who owns the cat I would create heaven on this earth for."
He made the call to the cat lady, but someone else already reserved this unperfect but yet still remarkable kitten.
This person would be there in the afternoon, around 3 o'clock, and if Louis wanted to have this specific kitten, he would have to be there as well and arrange some sort of deal with the other party.
Louis definitely would be in his element.
There was not a hint of doubt in his mind he would be having Balthasar by the end of the day,
As much as you can HAVE a cat really.
Louis knew, the cat chooses you and not the other way around.
And if the other party was more worth it, although he had his concerns, he would let Balthasar go.
One could never be an owner of this magnificent creature, and you could only be lucky if this creature chose you to be its slave.
But there was something he could do about the other interested people, and get rid of the rivals.
He could pay them off, and if that wouldn't work, well, he surely had other aces up his sleeve.
He would Litt them the fuck up.
Harvey's yet unproven condition of cardiac arrhythmia sets another example of its existence as Donna enters his office, the first of the bunch he was expecting.
The black dress she's wearing is hugging her body like a glove, accentuating her curves, though still obscuring the delicate parts in a very elegant way,
Harvey has to swallow a few times before he manages to reassure his vocal chords to mumble a not so hoarse "Donna."
The serene muttered "Harvey" as a response was quite not what he expected.
"I got you a bagel."
"That's very generous of you, thanks."
"I got you the pancetta and avocado."
"That's very thoughtful, thank you. I mean, I mentioned it before but... I thought, you wouldn't...Anyway, I see you got some coffee too so I just…"
Harvey couldn't resist any longer.
He gets out of his chair and goes straight up to her.
Harvey positions himself right next to her, avoiding her suspicious eyes, facing the new morning New York skyline instead.
His hand almost automatically reaches out to Donna's.
He feels her fingers intertwine with his, the warmth of her palm, and it fills him with the same comfort and electricity as it did before when it happened as Jessica decided to leave PSL.
Neither event was a pleasant one, but she shared it with him, despite of it all.
He tightens the grip.
"Donna.."
"Harvey, don't."
In the periphery of his sight he grasps that Donna's eyes cumulated some wet particles in the corners while saying that.
"Donna, you know."
His voice is smooth, even though the pervasive nature of his endeavour is scratching his throat.
"I don't think I know, Harvey."
He slightly shakes his head, even producing a smirk.
"Of course you know. You knew for a long time."
Donna's eyes wander from the radiant view of the displayed maginifiency of human achievement to another, her personal favourite.
Only catching his profile enlightened by the morning sun, his maroon eyes narrowed, but the slight roughness of his fingers on hers still present.
"Honestly this time I failed. I don't know. I really don't, Harvey."
"Of course you know, you always knew. But I didn't."
His eyes finally meet hers, his hand loses its grip on hers, before provokingly slowly moving up her arm, only to come to a halt reaching the connection between herˆ marble neck and the jawbone, striking the exquisite line gently with his thumb.
His eye colour transforms to melted sugar, exploring her features, discovering his salvation in her.
He leans in, the rosy lips in front of him awaiting his, as he hears footsteps approaching his office.