The sun slowly emerged on the horizon, painting the sky with soft shades of orange and pink. The ocean reflected these hues in its gentle waves, and the air carried the salty freshness unique to coastal mornings.

Donna, dressed in black leggings and a matching sports bra, moved at a steady pace. Her outfit hugged her long legs, and the top revealed the rhythm of her breath, which was gradually growing heavier. Her hair, tied in a high ponytail, swayed behind her with each stride, and her cheeks flushed a deeper pink with the effort.

Beside her, Harvey, in a pair of black sweatpants and a gray t-shirt that perfectly outlined his build, seemed completely at ease. Not a single bead of sweat graced his forehead, and his strides were so smooth it seemed like he could run like that for hours without breaking a sweat. His broad shoulders swung fluidly, and the relaxed expression on his face betrayed absolute confidence in his abilities.

The waves lapped at the shore just a few yards away, and seagulls lazily flew overhead, their cries punctuating the serene ambiance. But this tranquility was soon broken by Donna's playful voice.

"For a Marine, you don't run that fast," she teased, briefly glancing over her shoulder at him. Her breathing was heavier now, but she did her best not to let it show.

Harvey raised an eyebrow but played along. "Trust me, you don't want to go there with me."

"Coward," taunted the redhead, knowing it would get a reaction from him. Marines and their egos, especially regarding physical prowess, were legendary. And while Donna usually found arrogance infuriating, poking at Harvey's pride had become her newfound guilty pleasure.

He said nothing. Not a word. But the spark in his eyes was enough to warn her of what was about to happen. He suddenly picked up the pace, his strides growing longer and faster, quickly widening the gap between them. Caught off guard, Donna let out a small cry of protest.

"Wait for me!" she shouted, pushing herself harder to keep up.

But just as she was about to catch up, Harvey sped up again. She groaned in frustration, trying to sustain a pace she knew was unsustainable.

"Harvey! Okay, I get it, you're fit!" she called out, half-annoyed, half-amused at being caught in her own game.

Without slowing down, he glanced over his shoulder. "You want to play, we'll play," he replied in a mock-serious tone.

Donna couldn't help but laugh, even though her lungs felt like they were about to burst. The salty ocean breeze was no longer enough to counteract the heat building in her, and her damp hair began to stick to the back of her neck. Finally, she slowed down, resting her hands on her hips and bending over to catch her breath.

"You're not even out of breath. That's unfair," she grumbled.

Harvey, effortlessly composed, turned around and strolled back toward her. When he reached her, he crossed his arms and gave her a triumphant smile.

"Well?"

Still panting, Donna pointed an accusatory finger at him. "I hate you, Harvey Specter."

He chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "I got you for the record, I got you."

Despite his teasing, Harvey extended a hand to help her straighten up, and the two began walking along the beach, their laughter blending with the sound of the waves. Donna continued to curse her brilliant idea of running with a former Marine.

As they walked towards the car, Donna's tone shifted to a more serious one. "So… um… I was wondering about something."

He glanced at her and gestured for her to continue.

"How does it work if I want to go out for dinner? You're coming with me, right?"

He shrugged, like the question was obvious. "Sure."

She frowned slightly, pondering what to say next. She wanted to clarify a point, but part of her knew she was treading on shaky ground.

"And what if… What if I'm with a man? Are you still coming? I mean, where does it stop? You're not going to follow us to the bedroom, are you?" she added with a joking tone to mask her unease.

She had tried to make the question lighthearted, almost comedic, but Harvey stopped walking abruptly. His expression shifted subtly, his jaw tightening and his gaze hardening as tension settled between them. Donna felt a small knot form in her stomach, realizing she might have crossed a line.

.

On the outside, Harvey appeared calm. But this conversation was stirring insecurities he had carefully buried. To him, it seemed obvious: even if their relationship wasn't serious, even if it had started as something light and without strings attached, and even though it was doomed to have no future, he had never considered the possibility that she might see other men at the same time. The thought hit him like a punch to the gut, and he felt foolish for allowing himself to believe he could be the only one, that they could be exclusive. He was for her but apparently the feeling wasn't mutual.

.

Donna, noticing that he wasn't about to respond, tried to explain.

"Harvey, I—"

He raised a hand to cut her off, his voice cold as ice: "You know what, Donna?! If you want to sleep with the whole goddamn world, just say it out loud. No need to beat around the bush."

She froze, her eyes widening as her breath caught in her throat. Was he serious? Did he really just say that? She felt anger surge through her like a tidal wave.

"Excuse me?!"

Harvey turned and started walking away, his stride purposeful, trying to run away from the conversation. Trying to run away from her. He had heard enough.

"I'll wait for you at the car," he tossed over his shoulder.

Donna stood there, stunned, blinking as if to process what she had just heard. Then, as it sank in that he was walking away as if nothing had happened, her anger exploded. If he was pissed, so was she and Harvey was about to learn that no one spoke to her like that.

She sped up to catch him, her long legs quickly closing the distance. Reaching out firmly, she grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn around.

"First of all, no one walks away from me, Specter. And second, no one calls me a slut."

"I didn't—"

"Oh, bullshit! That's exactly what you implied!" she cut him off, her eyes now blazing with fury.

"You're the one who brought up going out with another guy!" Harvey shot back, his voice rising in volume. "But fine, do whatever you think is best for you. After all, it's just sex, right?"

"I never said that!" She blinked, hurt by his words but didn't let on. And when he turned to leave again without dignifying her with a response, she snapped.

"It's you I want to go out with, you idiot!"

Her words hung in the air like a slap. Harvey stopped dead in his tracks and turned back to her slowly, clearly thrown off balance.

"What?!"

Donna crossed her arms defensively, still stung by his earlier insult but taking a deep breath to rein in the anger still bubbling beneath the surface. "I was asking you to come with me, so—"

Harvey frowned, unsure if he understood her clumsy explanation. "You have a terrible way of asking, especially when you bring up some other guy in the process."

She threw her hands up as though to show just how ridiculous he was being. "I'm not 'bringing up' anyone. For god's sake, Harvey! Can I finish my sentences?"

Donna sighed, exhaustion creeping into her voice as she pushed her damp hair back from her face.

Harvey raised a skeptical eyebrow, clearly unconvinced by her explanation in advance.

"I wasn't hinting at going out with anyone else. I just… wanted to go out and eat. And since you have to be with me, you might as well eat too. It's not a date... just... you know, if you're there, you might as well eat."

At least, he seemed to feel stupid now. "Donna—"

"But you know what? You're right. Maybe I should act like a whore and bang the whole town if that's how you see me."

"Donna…"

.

She brushed past him and quickened her pace, leaving him standing there. She felt the tears stinging at the corners of her eyes but refused to let them fall. Harvey Specter could go to hell.

That little piece of shit.

She gritted her teeth, repeating in her mind just how unfair Harvey had been. Maybe she'd been clumsy in making her joke, but that didn't justify him jumping to such insulting conclusions. He had humiliated her, and worse, he had trampled on her self-esteem. Her heart was still pounding, but this time it wasn't from physical exertion. Anger boiled inside her, mingling with a sadness she was trying to ignore, though the tears in her eyes were undeniable. She might have avoided serious relationships and sworn off falling in love, but that didn't mean she lacked self-respect. Harvey was the king of assholes, and she was done with him.

Finally, she reached the car and opened the trunk with more force than she intended. The cool air, amplified by the sweat beading on her skin, sent a shiver through her. She grabbed her water bottle and took long gulps, trying to calm both her thirst and her nerves. But despite her efforts, her hands were still trembling. She placed the bottle back into the trunk with an irritated shove and grabbed her jacket.

She felt someone watching her. Probably Harvey catching up, but she forced herself to ignore it.

If he wanted to apologize, he'd have to crawl.

She slammed the trunk shut, ready to wait in the car, but the sound of someone clearing their throat made her start slightly. The sound... it wasn't Harvey. She was sure of it.

"Hi," said a voice, timid but strangely tense.

Donna spun around abruptly, surprised by the unfamiliar tone. What she saw froze her in place. A man, tall and disturbingly thin, stood there. His wrinkled clothes—a poorly fitted pair of jeans and an oversized shirt—clashed with his pale, almost translucent skin. His long hair framed a face that might have seemed innocent, but his eyes... his eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made her deeply uncomfortable. It wasn't admiration or curiosity. It was something else. Something unsettling.

"I like you a lot," he murmured, almost like it was a secret.

Donna felt her stomach twist. She tried to maintain a calm exterior, but every instinct in her screamed to get away. She nodded slightly, forcing a polite smile. "Thank you."

She pulled her jacket in front of her, suddenly conscious of how revealing her workout clothes were, then quickly glanced around, searching for Harvey. But he was nowhere to be seen. The parking lot was tucked around a corner, and unless the Marine was already close, there was no way for her to know if he was still far off. Panic began to rise in her chest, her heart was pounding, and the tremors in her hands, once born of anger, were now fueled by fear. She took a step back, hoping the man would take the hint and keep his distance.

But he made a step.

"You're really, really beautiful," he said with a smile. That smile… It might have been friendly, but something about the way it stretched, the way it slightly exposed his teeth, sent a chill down her spine.

She took another step back, desperately searching for a way out.

"Don't come any closer," she exclaimed in a voice she tried to make firm, though it trembled slightly.

The man kept smiling but at least had the decency not to take another step. "You know, I run too. I run every morning. Maybe we could run together, Donna."

Her fans all called her by her first name. It was a familiarity she usually cherished, it made her feel connected to them. But here and now, this man, saying her name like they were lifelong friends chilled her to the bone.

It wasn't that he looked like a psychopath. If anything, he seemed intellectually diminished, almost childlike in his demeanor. But a man in his fifties acting like a child was unnerving. And a child looking at you like they were about to devour you? That didn't exist outside of horror movies.

She stepped back again, her feet nearly slipping on the gravel lining the parking lot.

And then, she hit something solid.

She turned around sharply, her heart racing so hard it felt like it might burst. But this time, a wave of relief washed over her.

Harvey was there, tall and imposing, his dark eyes locked onto the man with a coldness that could make anyone shiver. Donna felt her shoulders relax slightly, though her heart was still pounding far too fast.

Without a word, he stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the man. His posture was tense, ready to react to any suspicious movement.

.

"How did you find us?" Harvey asked, his voice icily.

The man seemed to hesitate, his gaze dropping slightly. "I… I didn't find you. I was just walking around…" he stammered, visibly intimidated by Harvey's presence.

"At six in the morning?" Harvey pressed, clearly not believing a word.

"You're out walking too," the man countered, like a child caught in a lie.

"We're not walking. We're running," Harvey retorted, unflinching. His piercing gaze never left the man for even a second.

The man swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly. "Y-yeah… I run too. Every morning."

"In jeans?" Harvey raised an eyebrow, his disdain palpable.

The man opened his mouth, but no words came out. He lowered his eyes again. "I… I just wanted to say hi to Donna."

Harvey stepped forward slightly, towering over the man. "I don't see your car. Where are you coming from?"

Again, the man hesitated, taking a step back this time. Harvey didn't need to raise his voice to assert his dominance. The man, after one last confused glance, mumbled something unintelligible and quickly walked away.

Once he was finally out of sight, Harvey relaxed his posture, though his mind was still racing with adrenaline. Only when he turned to Donna did a different kind of tension settle over him.

She was leaning against the car, looking shaken from the encounter. She clutched her jacket against her body like armor, suddenly feeling vulnerable, though she refused to lift her eyes to meet his.

He had screwed up. He could see it in the way she avoided his gaze. Despite everything that had just happened, Donna was still furious with him and she had every right to be. But even so, she was stunning. Her aura, her strength, that way she never let anyone—not even him—crush her, fascinated him. Few women stood up to him without flinching, and yet that was what he admired most about women. About Donna.

But he had opened his big mouth. He had said things he never should have said, driven by insecurities he shouldn't have had. Donna didn't owe him anything, but it still hurt. So he had lashed out, wanting to hurt her in return. To push her away, like he always did with others. Be an asshole, drive people off, instead of convincing them he was worth staying for because he knew he wasn't. He was a mess, emotionally and psychologically. He didn't let himself get caught up in feelings. It only gave people the tools to hurt you. But Donna… Donna had worked her way into his head, into his skin, into his soul. And he hated the power that gave her.

Harvey took a deep breath, searching for the right words. "Are you okay?"

Donna lifted her head, her eyes blazing with a fire that could have reduced him to ashes. "You care about my well-being now? That's new."

Harvey clenched his jaw ever so slightly, taking the blow. She was right, of course. He had judged her, too quickly and too harshly, without even giving her the chance to explain herself.

"Donna, what happened doesn't mean—" he began.

"I know! I know…" She crossed her arms, exhausted from their argument and from the unsettling encounter. "You talk to me like I'm nothing, you jump to the worst possible conclusions, and now you care if I'm okay?"

She didn't let him respond, brushing past him and shoving him aside before climbing into the car and slamming the door with as much force as she could muster.

Harvey exhaled heavily before walking around to the driver's side. This was going to be a long drive.

Max rocked back and forth on her little legs, nibbling on her thumb without even realizing it. Normally, the little girl was a whirlwind of energy and curiosity, unable to stay still. She had one of those radiant smiles that could light up a room and a sharp, inquisitive gaze always on the hunt for her next adventure. Her mom often compared her to a ray of sunshine, though one that was a little too daring for her taste.

But today, Max didn't feel like a ray of sunshine. Her legs felt heavier than usual, and her heart was beating a little too fast in her small chest. It wasn't fear. It was something else, something she didn't quite understand but that made her drag her feet instead of run.

She hugged her backpack a little tighter, as though it could protect her from that strange feeling. The backpack held her secret box. Her special box. The one she kept hidden under her bed and had never shown to anyone. Not even her mom. It was her treasure, her collection of memories, and she was proud of it. But today, she had decided it was time to take it out and share it with someone. Someone as special as her box.

Harvey wasn't her father. Max knew that, of course. But he was there. Always. He was the one who had helped her build her Batmobile. The one who made her breakfast when she woke up early on Sundays because Harvey was always the first one awake in the house, even on Sundays. He was also the one who had taught her how to climb trees faster to beat the boys at school. And when she had shyly announced that she wanted to play baseball, it was Harvey who had promised to teach her everything he knew.

Yes, Harvey was definitely special.

She tightened her grip on the backpack, feeling the edges of the box press against her small fingers through the fabric. The box itself wasn't anything extraordinary: an old red lunchbox with Mickey Mouse on the lid. But what was inside was important. It was all the drawings, little cards, and crafts she had made at daycare and school for Father's Day, year after year. Things she'd never given to anyone because she had no one to give them to.

Until now.

She took a deep breath, puffing out her cheeks like a balloon before exhaling all the air at once. She was Max. Max, the girl who climbed trees faster than any boy at her school. Max, who wasn't scared of anyone. So why was her heart pounding so hard now?

She checked the gym first but didn't find him, then moved to the kitchen, which was empty, and finally spotted him in the living room, his phone in one hand and a coffee in the other. He had that concentrated look he often wore on his face, like he was trying to solve an invisible puzzle. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, but when Max approached him, he glanced up, and his expression immediately softened.

.

It had been two days since Harvey and Donna had gone for their jog. Two days since they'd run into that creepy guy. And two days since Harvey had screwed up, leaving Donna so angry she wasn't speaking to him anymore. He had apologized. Multiple times. But she didn't want to hear it. Mike had confirmed that she was really angry, according to Rachel, but he'd refused to tell him why. It wasn't really a secret, but they hadn't exactly said it wasn't.

Eventually, Harvey had stopped apologizing, knowing it wasn't getting him anywhere. He regretted his words, but groveling wasn't his style. Not for anyone. Not even Donna. If she didn't want to hear his explanations, he wasn't going to force her. But no matter how hard he tried to distract himself, he couldn't stop thinking about her. Her sharp remarks, her humor, her laugh, her body. Donna Paulsen was more addictive than heroin.

The notification sound from his phone snapped him out of his thoughts. He had sent Samantha the description of the stranger because he was convinced it was the same guy who had followed them from the restaurant to Donna's house and probably the same one who had broken in. But without proof, he couldn't do much. She had created a sketch and asked if it was accurate. As he typed back his confirmation, a noise made him look up.

"Hey, Pumpkin, everything okay?" he asked, noticing that she looked… different.

Max nodded but remained standing a few steps away, clutching her bag like she was carrying a treasure she was afraid of to lose. Harvey tilted his head, his eyes flicking between her tense expression and her tight grip on the bag.

"What's in your bag?" he asked with a small smile, hoping to put her at ease.

She swallowed hard and took a hesitant step forward. She wanted to talk to him, she really did, but the words seemed stuck somewhere between her heart and her lips.

"It's… it's my secret box," she finally murmured.

Harvey raised an eyebrow, amused but still paying attention. "A secret box, huh? Sounds serious."

She nodded, hugging her bag even tighter. "It is," she confirmed with a kind of childlike gravity, as though she had just shared the secret of the universe.

Harvey studied the little girl in front of him. He could almost see the thoughts swirling in her head, the hesitations, the little internal battles. And despite himself, he couldn't help but notice how much she reminded him of Donna sometimes. That same determination and courage disguised beneath a layer of uncertainty and vulnerability.

He placed his phone on the coffee table, giving her his full attention. "Alright, Pumpkin. Tell me—what makes this box so special?"

Max took another step forward and sat down beside Harvey, taking a deep breath to summon her courage.

She slowly unzipped her backpack, hesitating as though she wasn't quite ready to pull out the box. But Harvey's encouraging look gave her the final push she needed. She reached in, carefully retrieving the red lunchbox, and nervously fidgeted with the lid.

"This is my box," she said softly, "where I keep all the things I made for Father's Day but never gave to anyone… Want to see?"

Father's Day. Of course. Harvey had forgotten it was today even though his father was the best he could ever imagine. He was just not good with dates.

For a moment, he stayed still, surprised by Max's confession, but he offered her a reassuring smile. "Of course I want to see."

Max lowered her gaze to the red lunchbox on her lap and delicately opened it, treating it like a treasure chest. One by one, she began taking out its contents.

The first item was a drawing. It was slightly crumpled, with frayed edges from years of being handled, but the bright colors were still vivid. "I made this one when I was four," she said with a small laugh. "It was supposed to be a race car, but… it looks like a banana with wheels."

Harvey took the drawing from her carefully, like it was a masterpiece. "A very impressive banana with wheels."

Max giggled softly, and the tension that had been gripping her began to melt away. She continued pulling items from the box: a clay keychain she'd made in preschool, a greeting card with letters glued on crookedly, a photo of her as a gap-toothed little girl holding a balloon and grinning ear to ear.

Harvey listened intently as she explained each item, the smile never leaving his face, but his chest tightened more with each piece she revealed. He could see the love and care she had poured into making these little gifts, and the fact that they'd never found a recipient hit him harder than he expected. It was a subtle reminder of her unspoken longing for something—or someone—she didn't have.

"And this one," she said, pulling out a small, wrapped package, her fingers nervously playing with the edges, "this is what we made this year. That's why it's still wrapped."

Harvey nodded, his expression softening even further. "I see."

Max looked up at him, her eyes shy but determined. "Do you remember when you told me I could give my gift to someone special?"

"I do."

She took a deep breath and held out the package to him with the kind of earnestness only a child could muster. "You're my someone special."

A silence settled between them as Harvey stared at the package in her small hands. Max held her breath, waiting for the Marine's reaction, while Harvey felt his own breath catch in his throat. The weight of what this gift meant, what it symbolized, hit him like a tidal wave. He could feel a surge of emotion rising inside him, raw and unexpected.

He reached out and took the package with care, handling it like it was the most valuable treasure in the world. His fingers brushed briefly over the ribbon as he looked back at Max. "You know," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, "I don't think anyone has ever given me a gift this important."

Max beamed, a mixture of pride and shyness lighting up her face. "Do you want to open it now?"

Harvey carefully unwrapped the package to reveal a bracelet she had crafted with wooden beads, some with natural colors and others painted black. In the middle was a single metal bead stamped with the letter B.

"B for Batman," Max explained, glancing down as though worried he might find it silly. "Because… you're like Batman. I don't really get everything about what you do, but… you protect Mom, right? Like Batman. She's safe with you, isn't she?"

And if Harvey didn't know better, he'd think Max was trying to confirm her understanding that her mom truly was safe with him. And that broke his heart a little more. That a child, at an age that should still be innocent, could be worried about her mother's safety.

"She is, Pumpkin," he reassured her with a confident smile, doing his best to mask his emotion.

"Because she's with Batman," Max said with a mischievous glint in her eye. "He's got the cape, but you've got the suit."

Harvey felt a wave of tender amusement warm his chest. The double meaning of her words wasn't lost on him, but beneath the playful humor, he could sense something deeper: the pure, unwavering faith she had placed in him. And that, more than anything, left him utterly disarmed.

Because he didn't feel worthy of a child's trust. Not after the times he had failed to protect some of them. Not after those children he couldn't save. He still heard their voices in his nightmares, still saw their frozen faces forever. Those losses had carved a permanent void inside him, a certainty that he wasn't cut out to be a safeguarding figure.

And yet, here was Max, with her hopeful eyes and innocent heart, effortlessly brushing aside all his doubts and self-loathing. She had no idea of the cracks he carried, no idea of the weight he bore. And still, she looked at him like he could move mountains. Like he was invincible.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady the emotions rising in his throat. He had perfected the art of locking his feelings away, of keeping his vulnerabilities hidden. But Max… Max had a way of breaking through all his defenses. She was a bulldozer, barreling into his life and wrecking everything he thought he knew about himself.

"I've got the suit," he agreed, slipping the bracelet onto his wrist.

He tugged the strings to tighten it, then pulled Max into a long, heartfelt hug, hoping the gesture would be enough to convey everything he couldn't put into words.

And reality came crashing back down on him. He had to fix things with Donna. Not just for himself, but for Max. The little girl was far too perceptive for her own good, and it wouldn't take her long to figure out that something wasn't right between them. The last thing Harvey wanted was for Max to feel sad or uncertain because he'd screwed things up.

Yes, Harvey Specter didn't crawl for women. But he would definitely crawl for Max.