Hey! I really want to thank you all for your reviews; it's always great to read such positive feedbacks. Special thanks to those who regularly follow the story, always reviewing and encouraging. This is ( I think) the chapter before the last. I hope you enjoy reading it!
Harvey got out of the shower wearing his sleeping pants, and walked to Donna's room to find her sitting on the balcony. She was wearing a t-shirt only, one of his, and he could recognize from a distance her long legs, curled up under her.
"Hey" he greeted her, as he entered the balcony, his body shivering at its first encounter with the breeze. "Hey yourself" she said, smiling up at him, the obvious signs of drunkenness all over her face. "Feeling better?" he asked her, tilting his head. "If by better you mean sober, no I'm still pretty drunk. But I'm okay Harv" she answers softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He looks at her then, admiring how perfectly his shirt fits her. "That's a new style you got there" he jokes, indicating his shirt. "Well I look fabulous in everything" she huffs, her usual Donna tone dominant. "That…is very true. You look particularly sexy in this" he flirts, the corner of his mouth rising in a smile. "Stop wondering if I'm wearing a bra under this and stop trying to imagine me naked Specter" she warns playfully. "Well I thought I didn't have to. With that strip poker you've been insisting we do all night…" he provokes her. "That will not be happening monsieur. I was just teasing you" she retorts. "You are a tease" he confirms, adding a wink.
"Are you cold?" he asks then, noticing the goose bumps along her legs. "I'm fine" she answers, but he insists on going in. "Come on, I'll make us tea" he says, leading her with his hand on her lower back, her motion still very unstable. They entered the kitchen, as she sat on a high chair, staring at him. She thought about how soft and sincere he looked. No armor, no walls, no suits; just a guy making tea. She sees him struggling to find his way around the kitchen, and he can notice her stares at him, making him secretly smile. "Top drawer to the left" she finally says, after enjoying a few minutes of a frustrated Harvey. She thinks he looked especially adorable with a pout on his lips, looking up and down like a lost child. "How did you..?" he asks, only to be interrupted by: "I'm Donna I know. I thought after fourteen years you'd get used to it" she says, faking irritation.
The way he was focused on the boiler, his neck directed downwards, the muscles in his back as tight as those of a twenty year old man made her stomach flicker. She desperately wants contact, and her body mechanically moves to his, her arms wrapping around him from the back. "You'd make a good housewife you know?" she says, leaving three kisses on his shoulder. He's surprised by her presence; he must've phased out staring at the boiling water. He turns to face her, her whole weight now on his, as she runs her fingers on his torso down his abdomen. "Donna" he warns softly, caressing her hair. "I know" she answers. They always understood each other, and she now knew he was warning her not to do something when she's drunk, so she wouldn't regret it. After having fought years to suppress all her feelings towards him, it was now nearly impossible.
She wanted to tell him that she would regret if she didn't, that she's only afraid he'd break her heart again, like that morning at the diner. Instead, her mind commands her tongue to say: "But you're too damn sexy sometimes Harvey. Stop exercising already" she nags, resting her face on his torso. He laughs at her drunken words, quickly followed by: "I'm not wearing any bra by the way" she says, just above a whisper. He kisses the top of her head, answering with a giggle in his voice: "That, I know", referring to her hard nipples against his torso. "Oh my god you can…can't you?" she asks, a wave of panic rising through her. He nods in a yes motion, before she bursts into laughter, her breath on his skin warming his whole body.
"Let's take you to bed" he says, holding her by the waist. "Sweep me off my feet, my knight in shining armor" she commands, jumping and crossing her legs across his waist, her arms around his neck. "You got it, my drunken lady" he answers, one of his hands automatically shifting to her ass, her face now buried in the crook of his neck. As he walked her to the bedroom, he thought about how similar to the other time their posture was. He had taken her to bed that same way, her legs across his waist, his hands running up and down her body, his mouth hungry against hers. It was raw that, filled with passion and sexual desire. Here they were, fourteen years later in that same position, rawness replaced by intimacy, passion by affection and sexual desire by comfort. It's not that he wouldn't want to have sex with her; to the contrary, he didn't think anyone can fulfill him anymore but her. But he was happy with only this, feeling for the first time in his life that he didn't need physical action to get through the night.
He put her in bed, slipping her under the sheets, arranging the pillow behind her in a sitting position. "Don't go" she whispers, her hand on his chest, wondering since when she was so needy. He smiles softly, enjoying her sight, and answered tenderly: "I'll be right back". He went to the kitchen and poured the tea into two mugs, walking towards the bedroom, where she was waiting. "Here. Are you sure you can hold that?" he asked, worry in his eyes. She nods, and he eyes her suspiciously as she held her tea steadily. He took his, sitting by her bedside, and took a sip. "Harvey, get in bed" she orders him, tired. He quirks his eyebrows in surprise: "Are you sure Donna? I mean it's even more difficult to keep your hands off of me when I'm in bed next to you" he gloats. "Yes I'm sure. Now shut up and come, and don't you dare put your filthy hands on me" she warns, joking.
He gets up, and slides in bed next to her, sleeping on his side, angling his face towards her. "Do you ever think about it?" he asks, whispering. "Excuse me?" she asks, still sipping her tea and staring in front of her. "Do you think about it?" he repeated, his voice husky. She put the cup on the nightstand next to her and shifted on her side to face him. "About what Harvey?" she asks her voice trembling a little. She wonders if he's talking about the other time, or something different. "What it would've been like if we-" he started before she stopped him. "Harvey, we shouldn't be doing this" she warns. "Answer me, do you? Do you ever wonder what we would be like if you didn't have that rule? Or if I told you I didn't want to lose you romantically?" She doesn't say a word, their eyes locking for a few seconds, before he mutters: "Because I do"
It strikes her then, those honest words coming out of Harvey's mouth. She never thought he'd be thinking about it, let alone say it. "Yeah?" she asks, her voice trembling even more now. He nods. "I do too. Sometimes" she confesses. A moment of silence passes between them, none of them able to say anything. She wants to know what he thinks about, but she knows it will only hurt her more. Words are simply words in their case; it wouldn't help hearing what could've been. He wants to tell her that he's sorry for that morning; ask her to wait for him, but he doesn't say a word.
"Donna, why the hell do you use highlighters when you read? What do you highlight?" he asks curiously, pointing to the book and highlighter on the nightstand. She's surprised by his curiosity and acknowledges it as a change of topic. "I highlight quotes or sentences that I relate to, or find beautiful" she answers. He smiles tenderly at the woman in front of him, happy to still be discovering things after all that time. "Like what? Read me something you've highlighted" he continues. "Harvey, you don't even care!" she accuses. "I do! I wouldn't be asking if I didn't" he explains.
She takes a deep breath, her body shifting even closer to his. "Ok there's this one quote I read so much that I memorized it". He nods, encouraging her to continue.
I said I wanted to tell you something. She said, You can tell me tomorrow. I had never told her how much I loved her, she was my sister. We slept in the same bed. There was never a right time to say it. It was always unnecessary. I thought about waking her, but it was unnecessary. There would be other nights. And how can you say I love you to someone you love? I rolled onto my side and fell asleep next to her.
Here's the point I have been trying to tell you Oskar. It's always necessary. I love you.
Donna whispered the quote, her voice so low he had moved even closer to her, their face now inches apart. He thought about how perfectly fitting it was to them; all those unspoken words because it wasn't necessary, and there was always time. He takes her hand, and she doesn't move, still looking into his eyes, feeling his lips get closer to hers. "Donn-" he whispers, before she closes the gap between them, their lips softly crashing against each other. It's nothing like the other time; it's soft, tender, filled with longing and desperation. He deepens the kiss, his hand grabbing her waist, taking control. Everything was moving slowly, the kiss burning a fire in their mouth. His hand travels under the shirt just below her breasts, and she trembles at the idea that they are doing this again.
But his hand stops there, softly caressing her upper abdomen. He stops the kiss, looking at her in the eyes, before cupping her face with one hand, caressing it. She's waiting for that moment when he flips her and devours her body in a way that he only knew. Instead he kisses the top of her head, and then her lips again. When he stops, she holds his face back, kissing him with finality similar to that of a man in a desert, trying to squeeze the last drops of water from a bottle. He says it then, without explaining much "Wait for me". It's more of a beg really, asking her to wait for him to be a better man for her, a man she deserves. He wants her to wait for him so he could be more emotionally available to her, more ready to show her how much he cared about her. He thinks it is probably unfair to ask such a thing, especially when he can never know if he'll ever be ready. But at that moment, looking at that beautiful woman in front of him, all he could think was that he cannot lose her.
She understands what he means without him explaining. It's always been that way. Against all logic, despite the voices in her head telling her not to do it, her eyes give him a reassuring looking, her lips pursed. She doesn't say it, but her eyes scream a promise, a promise of waiting for him. He pulls her closer to him, his arm around her waist, her hand rested perfectly on his torso, as they watched the sun rise. They fell asleep tangled in each other's arms, dreams and promises of the future.
Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review
-G