So, it's been a while since I posted last, but the one good thing about the absolute insanity of the last ten days is that I just had to disconnect from everything, and I was able to get some writing done.
So, here it is – chapter three:
««« ×ǁ MILESTONES ǁ× »»»
The sound of her blaring alarm suddenly pulls him from his dreams, leaving him groggy and disoriented. As he struggles to open his eyes, he's quick to let out a groan, temporarily blinded by the sun starting to peek through his windows. Still, it's far less daylight than he's usually confronted with in the mornings.
It's what makes him lift his head, squinting towards the clock sitting atop his nightstand only to find that he has another hour before he needs to get up.
"Turn that off," he pleads as his head falls back onto the pillow, burying his face in her hair, and breathing in her familiar scent.
"Sorry," she apologizes while simultaneously silencing the offensive noise. To his delight, she's turning in his grasp, and then leans in for a gentle kiss. A smile touches his lips as he tightens his grip on her, releasing a content sigh when he's finally got her close enough.
He's halfway to falling back asleep when the chuckle falling from her lips disturbs him. "Harvey," she whispers. "I've got to get up," she tells him, regretfully.
"What?" He frowns, lifting an eyelid to look at her. "Why?" He questions, looking quite upset by this turn of events.
"Because I forgot to bring a change of clothes with me last night," she explains. The two of them had been in such a rush to get home that it didn't even dawn on her until they were drifting off to sleep, exhausted after their second round of the evening.
She doesn't even have to look at him to feel the frown overtaking his face. "This sucks," he declares, murmuring the words into her copper locks as he continues to hold her close.
Donna chuckles, momentarily enjoying this clingy version of her boyfriend. It's a side of him she's only recently begun to uncover and it's been a very welcome surprise – the way he loves having her in his arms while they sleep and how he loves to cuddle her whenever they're sitting on the couch – it's not something she ever would've expected before they got together, but she relishes it all the same.
"I know," she agrees, wholeheartedly – getting out of his bed is the absolute last thing she wants to do right now. "But, I really do need to go," she adds, the reluctance evident in her voice.
"Okay," Harvey grudgingly agrees, still far from pleased with the outcome.
Donna smiles before she leans in, stealing a kiss from his lips, before she rolls out of bed. Meanwhile, Harvey can't help but watch as she collects her clothes, his eyes following her around the room as he lets out an appreciative groan when she bends over to pick up the bra that he tossed aside last night. Donna just rolls her eyes, unable to stop the chuckle from leaving her lips.
He's already missing the feel of her in his arms, and he desperately wishes she could just come back to bed. It's that thought that propels him to call out to her just as she's about to step out of his bedroom, probably intent on making some coffee.
"Hey Donna?" He says.
"Hm?" She responds, turning to face him.
"Tonight, let's go to your place and pack up some things for you to keep here," he suggests, his mouth stretching into a hopeful smile, praying she won't think it's too soon.
He's not anywhere near an expert on these sorts of things, but he's pretty sure it's not something you're supposed to do just weeks into a relationship. Still, he's so done following rules when it comes to her.
All he knows is that he doesn't want another morning like this – having to watch her leave instead of savoring their last hour of sleep with her in his arms, her body molded to his.
In his opinion, there is one very simple solution. "I can clear out some closet space and a couple drawers for you," he continues, praying she'll agree.
As the words spill out, he's almost taken aback by how little the idea scares him. After spending so many years plagued with the fear of commitment, he sometimes catches himself waiting for it to return in full force.
Except, he hasn't felt even an inkling of it since that very first night. Even now, he feels nothing but confident in his suggestion, knowing it's what he wants.
Meanwhile, the gesture catches Donna entirely by surprise, not anticipating him to make such an offer. "Are you sure?" She questions as she walks back towards him, ending up sitting beside him on the edge of the bed.
"Yeah," he confirms with a nod of his head as he takes her hand in his. "Then you wouldn't be able to sneak away from me in the morning," he adds, his gaze illuminating with the quip.
"I am not sneaking away," she clarifies, offering up a playful roll of her eyes.
"I know," he responds, sitting up in bed. "But, I'm serious – you should keep some stuff here. I want you to," he adds, enthusiastically.
She stares at him for long enough to make him a bit nervous. Sure, it's barely been a few weeks, but they've known each other for well over a decade – he hardly thinks the normal relationship rules apply.
He's just about to voice the thought when he sees a soft smile growing on her lips. "Okay," she says, nodding her head in agreement.
"Okay?" He asks, lifting his eyebrows in surprise.
"Yeah," she confirms. "Let's do it," she tells him before leaning in to get another kiss out of him.
Of course, Harvey happily obliges, deepening the kiss and refusing to let her go until she is most certainly going to be late to work.
(→→v←←)
Still half asleep and without even opening his eyes, he can tell that something is off.
He's never been much of a cuddler – never having the desire to spend the night that close to someone else, but every morning for the last three weeks, he's happily woken up to her in his arms, their legs tangled underneath the covers, and their heads sharing the same pillow.
Not this morning, though.
This morning, she's not in his arms, and that fact puts a frown on his lips before he can even think to investigate why.
As he opens his eyes, he's confused to find her all the way on the other side of the bed, facing away from him.
It shouldn't be a big deal – like he said, he's never been much of a cuddler.
Regardless, the sight stings, feeling more meaningful than it probably should.
Beyond the fact that she's so far away, there's something in her body language that gives him pause. Something doesn't feel right – the way her knees are bent much closer to her chest than usual and her arms are wrapped around her stomach, she's halfway to the fetal position, and the image immediately floods him with concern.
Reaching out across the mattress, his fingertips grace her back.
Almost instantly, she lifts her head and glances back at him just as he's about to whisper her name – one look in her eyes and he's sure she hadn't been sleeping.
And that knowledge makes him feel even worse.
She hadn't unconsciously wiggled out of his grasp – it was purposeful. And again, it hurts more than it probably should.
"What are you doing all the way over there?" He pouts when their eyes connect in the early morning light.
Turning on her side, she moves to face him, still clutching her stomach. "Just not feeling that great," she explains, wincing as the words leave her lips.
"What's wrong?" He questions, the worry shining in his eyes.
"Cramps," she complains. She doesn't get them every period, but when she does, they're always the worst on day one. She had made it through the whole afternoon without so much as a bit of pressure, but when she woke up twenty minutes ago, that searing pain in her lower abdomen paired with the dull ache around the small of her back, she knew that, this month, she was not getting out unscathed.
Not wanting to disturb Harvey, she had to be real careful to slowly untangle herself from his arms before tip toeing across his bedroom floor and digging through her bag to find the packet of Midol she keeps for emergencies. She slid into bed a minute later and has been waiting for the pain to diminish ever since.
"What can I do?" Harvey wants to know as he slides across the mattress so he can be close to her. He's careful not to crowd her, wanting to give her whatever space she needs – still, it just didn't feel right to be out of arm's reach.
"You wouldn't happen to have a heating pad around here, would you?" She inquires, her face starting to scrunch up in pain as her cramps momentarily worsen.
Harvey is immediately horrified, hating the sight of her in distress. But, before he can even say or do a thing, Donna just takes a deep breath and then it's as if nothing happened at all, she's just looking at him, still waiting for an answer.
Struggling to fight off the immediate feelings of ineptitude that washes over him, he meets her with an apologetic look. "No, I don't," he responds, wishing more than anything that he did. It's obvious that she's in real pain, no matter how hard she tries to hide it from him, and he just hates being witness to it. "I could run out and get one," he offers, figuring that's the best solution.
He's already moving to get out of bed and get dressed when she tugs on his arm. "Harvey, it's five o'clock in the morning," she points out. "You don't have to do that."
"I don't mind," he assures her. "There's a twenty-four hour pharmacy a few blocks away. They probably have one," he reasons, still sitting up, ready and willing to go. "I could be back in ten minutes."
"It's fine," she promises, pulling him back towards her, telling him she's made up her mind. "I took some Midol twenty minutes ago; it'll kick in soon. Just… stay here," she implores.
"Are you sure?" He questions, the concern still evident in his eyes. He's well aware of her tendency to downplay and refuse help when she needs it, so he's automatically skeptical of her words.
Donna just nods her head. "Stay," she requests as she snuggles closer to him.
"Okay," Harvey agrees, still feeling uneasy. He can see the brave face she's trying to put on and all he wants to do is help.
"Harvey, I'm okay," she promises. Her eyes aren't even open, but she can feel his concern as if she's looking right at him. "It's nothing I haven't dealt with before," she points out.
The words do nothing to make him feel better, but the last thing he wants is for her to be worrying about him. He's doing his best to ease the tension in his shoulders when an idea suddenly washes over him. "Here," he says, his hand sliding underneath her top and resting over her stomach. It's something he remembers his mom doing for Marcus when he was really young and experiencing stomach pain – she would always rest her hand on his bare skin, letting the warmth of her palm ease the pain until the medication kicked in. "Does that help at all?" He asks, hoping it'll work just as well for Donna.
"Mm… a little," she says, making herself comfortable. "Thank you."
"We'll stop at the pharmacy on our way home from the office tomorrow – you should have a heating pad to keep at my place… and anything else you need," he decides.
It's not something he ever would've offered for anyone else; but, for Donna, he doesn't think twice. He loves her and he wants her to have everything.
Opening her eyes, she meets his gaze, amusement twinkling in her eyes. "Even tampons?" She challenges, playfully.
Harvey just chuckles. "Even tampons," he agrees.
"Thank you," She says, a warm smile stretching across her lips.
Mirroring the expression, he leans in and presses a kiss to her temple. "You know I'd do anything for you, right?" He says, hoping that she already knows.
"I know," she confirms, beaming up at him, causing Harvey to smile back.
As he settles in beside her, they're sharing a pillow once again.
(→→v←←)
She's barely conscious when she hears it – the noises coming from inside her apartment.
She's alone, so she really should be concerned – should probably go investigate or reach for the pepper spray that's still sitting in the back of the drawer in her nightstand.
The problem is, she is way too hungover to even properly comprehend the situation.
After the weeks she spent resisting, Samantha finally shamed her enough into joining her and Katrina on a night out, and this morning, she is more than paying for it.
She's pretty sure it wasn't until 3:00AM that she finally crawled home, carrying her heels in her hands as she stumbled towards the front door of her building. She vaguely remembers singing showtunes with her Uber driver as they made their way down East 23rd Street. She also has a hazy memory of her doorman physically helping her into the building as she continued to sing Don't Rain on My Parade way too loudly for the hour.
It was a fun evening, but she really regrets having those last two Sidecars.
She barely managed to get out of her clothes last night, and couldn't be bothered to even attempt removing her makeup. She's sure she looks like an absolute mess.
So yeah, someone may be on their way to murder her right now, but she's gonna have to let them do it because she's never getting out of bed again.
It's why she's unable to even lift her head when the noises morph into footsteps outside her bedroom door.
That's when it finally starts to percolate in her mind – that she really should do something. Except, she's still struggling to fully form the thought when the door starts to creek open.
Still, she does consider opening her eyes to look, but she's incapable of summoning enough energy to actually do it.
The footsteps are moving closer and in her booze-addled mind, the sound is somewhat familiar, but she is unable to place it, her brain far from firing on all cylinders.
Suddenly, there's a dip in the mattress and a hand reaching out for her, pushing a lock of hair out of her face.
That's the moment that it finally clicks. She's not sure how it didn't dawn on her before – although, just a few weeks in and it's still new.
Finally putting in the effort, she lifts her lids, immediately wincing at the bright light, needing a second for her eyes to adjust. When they finally do, she finds his amused smile directed her way and then she remembers how terrible she must look.
"Rough night?" He assumes, his hand drifting gently down her back.
"You can't tell?" Donna groans, unable to provide any more of a response.
She's not the kind of woman who needs to look perfect for a man – she's never felt the desire to wake up early and apply make up before crawling back underneath the covers or change out of her sweatpants when she knows he's coming over.
She's a confident woman.
Still, she really wishes Harvey wasn't seeing her like this. She feels absolutely disgusting – her smeared makeup and tangled hair along with her overall exhaustion: she's sure she is not a sight for sore eyes.
Harvey has the good sense to lie to her at least. "You're beautiful," he assures her, leaning in to press a kiss to the side of her head.
She's knows he's full of shit, but she appreciates the effort, nonetheless.
"Is this you angling for sex right now?" She dares, testing him with the raise of an eyebrow, wanting him to know that she's well aware of his lie. "Because I won't be doing anything but lie here for quite a while," she declares.
"I can work with that," he quips, a chuckle rumbling around his throat.
Donna just glares at him in response, making Harvey smile wider.
Soon, his fingers end up in her copper locks and he starts gently working through the tangles. "I thought you were coming over after drinks?" He inquires, looking upset that she didn't.
When she told him she'd been roped into a night out with Samantha and Katrina, he was far from thrilled, but she appeased him with promises that she'd come over afterwards, no matter how late it was.
Unfortunately, that plan went out the window after cocktail number five.
"I could barely remember my own address, let alone yours," Donna mumbles, hugging her pillow a little bit tighter as Harvey gets up off the mattress and starts to remove his jacket.
"You should've called me, I would've come and picked you up," he tells her as he unbuckles his belt and slips out of his pants, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed with her.
It's his favorite part of the weekends – really getting to enjoy waking up next to her instead of having to rush off to work.
This morning, when he realized she wasn't in his bed, all he wanted to do was get into hers.
"At 3 o'clock in the morning?" She questions, challenging him with a raised eyebrow.
"Any time," he responds, no hesitation, as he climbs onto the mattress and moves behind her, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her close. "I missed you last night," he murmurs in her ear.
Donna smiles, getting comfortable in his arms as she turns to face him. "You missed me so much you had to come over at 9AM on a Saturday and get into bed with me?" She teases.
Not that she's complaining – she's more than happy that he decided to come over. She just enjoys teasing him about how soft he is and how much he loves her – she likes the reminder.
"Pretty much," he agrees, not even trying to hide the fact.
Donna just grins back, feeling warm and silly, probably still a little drunk.
"Luckily, someone thought to give me a key," he smiles, his palm slipping underneath her top and resting on the small of her back.
It was only a couple days ago that she handed it to him, the two of them sitting on the couch sharing a bottle of wine and Donna remembering that it was still sitting in the bottom of her purse.
She can still picture that beaming smile – the second the key was in the palm of his hand, he looked so proud that he got to have it. Since then, he hadn't had the opportunity to use it yet, with the two of them leaving the office together each evening.
She's really glad he chose today to be the first time.
"Good thing," she agrees. "Or else who knows when you'd see me again," she quips. "'Cause I don't think I'll be moving from this spot for quite a while," she informs him with all the dramatics she can muster.
"That bad, huh?" He inquires, with sympathy in his eyes, as he palms the back of her head.
"Worse," she retorts, internally cursing Samantha for encouraging her to have those last couple cocktails.
"What can I do?" He wants to know.
"You're doing it," she assures him, trying for a convincing smile. "I'm really glad you're here," she adds, snuggling closer to him.
"Me too."
««« ×ǁ MILESTONES ǁ× »»»
There you have it –
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