Hi it's me again. I hope you're all doing well guys.

A little upload because it's been some time since I've worked on this story. It was meant to be the last chap but I couldn't wait to finish this and because I won't be able to write what's left (not much) of the end of the story, I thought I'd upload this.

This is unbeta-ed, so I apologise for any mistakes.

Huge thanks to all of you who wished me a Happy Birthday on twitter (in april lmao sorry I'm late), I love you very much.

I won't be back on twitter (more explanations? coming when I'll Post the last chap)

Enjoy yourself on this.

Fran.

Part V:

For a moment, there's only the shower running.

They don't speak, they just pant.

Harvey waits for an answer, but Donna is too stunned to even have understood the question. It looks like the cat just ate her tongue.

And it's quiet. The water is falling, they're heavily breathing, but it's quiet. This deafening silence suspends the moment in time even more.

They dare to look at each other, and for once their eyes aren't speaking any words. The fog from their recent orgasms has laid a veil on their eyes and thoughts, blocking them from reading each other as they would typically do.

This is not exactly the first time they lose this ability, they already felt like strangers once or twice during the past years, but it's not a sensation either like to entertain. It's not a nice feeling.

Harvey has his eyes fixed on Donna anyway, determined to see behind the hail.

She has pearls of sweat streaming down her face, running on her temples. The water has yet driven them away. It leaves a crack on her skin like her porcelain just fractured open, and the redhead suddenly seems so fragile under him.

Harvey wants to comfort her, wipes away the split with his thumb but eventually decides against it. Somehow it feels too intimate, not them.

He is about to repeat his question when Donna finally voices. "I'm sorry Harvey, I'm so so sorry." Her voice is quivering and hitcher, the words and the tone so un-Donna like Harvey wants to break.

"What are you sorry for Don?"

"It's just, I'm… I ca-"

She swallows hardly, the knot of guilt in her throat blocking the saliva. She is still holding onto his shoulder, his toned body, guarding her up. She's desperately looking for something to ground her but she only has his wet skin.

Fear has her paralyzed against the tiles, suffocating her with its remorses. She already put this relationship at risk once by the simple touch of their lips. It caused storms to break over them like never before.

It was only a kiss then, and they have done more than that now. And even with the change of circumstances since then, Donna is petrified this time is one time too many.

She even turned down his kiss earlier for the same reasons, and yet she finds herself naked in his shower two hours later.

"I'm so sorry, Harvey, oh God. I don't know what happened I- Gosh I didn't want-"

She rambles, her thoughts so disorganized. He cuts her off with honey in his voice. "It's okay, Donna, it's fine. Just, breath, okay?"

She nods, and this calmness surprises her. Surprises her because she didn't expect that from him. It's not like she expected anything about how he would react afterwards, hell she didn't think about afterwards at all.

In the spur of the moment, there was only him, her and a decade of repressed want.

But, she finds his tone… out of character given the situation. Last time he was enraged and frenetic, lashing out at her with vehemence even. She felt like a criminal to his eyes.

So, if she'd have to guess for this time, she'd say he would react the same way, screaming at her, telling her that she had no rights, that her judgment sucks or whatever bullshit words he'd find suitable to say during a fight.

It would have made more sense; it would have been more him.

Except he is calm, and he says it's fine.

"Breath in. Hold it for a sec, and then out. It's okay Donna."

It almost nerves her.

How can he say that it's fine when they just had sex in his shower because she couldn't tame her pheromones?

It is not fine, it's… catastrophic. It's the epitome of her idiocy, and she can sense that anger is starting to fuel her veins and endures it with despair in her eyes.

She's so, so mad at herself to have let lust controlled her like she was a fucking teen. And she's mad at him for allowing her to do it. Why on earth did he not stop it?

She's furious against Mike and Rachel for putting them in this position in the first place. Without their little sentence and their need to play Cupid, none of this would have had happened. When did tying

Harvey and her together has become a good idea anyway?

She hates the fucking universe for making her fall in love with him twelve years ago and curses Aphrodite or Venus whatever her name is, for giving her heart away to a man so complicated to love.

Love shouldn't be so hard and loving Harvey has been everything but simple.

It shouldn't be so hard.

She takes a deep breath, forcing air into her body. Her lungs cries because of the pain, but it is a welcomed distraction, even if brief.

"That's it Donna, just like that. Breath for me, okay?"

He's so calm and she's so angry. And ashamed.

She's ashamed of her weakness, and if a whole could swallow her right this second, she would be grateful. She wants to brush everything under the rug, forget all of this happened and make awkwardness go away. She can't bear to be the one who put it here in the first place.

Donna can blame Harvey all she wants for his poor way with words and emotions, but she isn't anything better when it comes to them.

"I don't know what got into me Harvey," she admits slowly, "I wasn't thinking properly and I- Gosh this is embarrassing." She chuckles, but it's more out of unease than anything else. Harvey has an iced talon planted in his heart.

She rationalizes. "It was a mistake, it shouldn't have happened, and I'm sorry it did."

Donna doesn't want to give a chance to Harvey to speak yet, maybe because she's afraid of what he might say, or perhaps because she's done giving him the opportunity to break her heart, she doesn't know. But either way, she wants to regain the control that lust made her lose.

This is the only way she knows how, and she misses Harvey breaking right under her eyes because of it.

Harvey is listening to her, all ears and each word feels like a knife in his skin. The more she speaks and the more he drowns, swallowed by the sin of loving her with a closed heart. Her words bury every glint of hope that appeared to him when Donna entered the shower.

He thought this time would be it, could be it, because it felt different. Her eyes, her words, her lust and her touches felt different on his skin, setting his whole on fire and devouring him with a renewed vigour.

But then she says it is a mistake, and he remembers she didn't feel anything when she kissed him. And she doesn't want more, not with him anyway.

Life's a joke, isn't it?

He shouldn't be surprised, though. It's kind of her thing when he comes to think of it, setting lines, allowing them to get blurry, finally crossing them only to end up telling him it meant nothing or asking him to put it out of his mind.

The other time, the kiss.

Today's just history repeating itself.

"Can we just- like?"

"Put it out of our minds and never mention it again because it doesn't mean anything?"

It stinks to see Donna nod. He distances himself from her.

"Yeah, don't worry Donna, it's already forgotten." His head is low, defeated, and his tone is almost accusing.

"Harvey-"

"No no, Donna, don't bother. It's always the same thing with us, isn't it? I get it now, you want to forget it? Fine, it's forgotten."

Touching her, kissing her, fucking her, it's an addiction, and no matter how many times Harvey tried, he could never forget how she feels under him. And here she is, asking him to wipe this heaven from his memory like he's a stupid goldfish swimming around in his aquarium.

"Okay," she repeats under her breath, "Forgotten."

"Now can we please just go out of the shower and get dressed before one of us do another thing that must be forgotten too?"

She wants to speak but nods instead, his hollow gaze averting her voice from doing so. Harvey turns off the shower and gets out, not once looking at her.

It's so, so far from fine.

The exit the shower wrapped up in regrets and awkwardness, and suddenly the consequences are too real on Donna's back. Too heavy.

Harvey passes before the towel Donna dropped earlier without a care in the world and goes to grab his own, putting it around his waist. Donna is the one to pick up the cloth from the ground and covers herself with it, hiding her modesty behind it.

Harvey's undershirt still hangs between them, damped and dripping with water. He was supposed to put it back on after his shower, but that is not going to happen. They'll have to cut it too if they don't want a deadweight on their arms all day.

Still without sharing anything, Donna takes the item in her hands and moves to the sink, Harvey following slowly behind, feeling the pull of her arm dragging him there. She spins, squeezes and mangles the thing until there's only a drizzle of water escaping it.

"Do you mind if we cut this too?" She timidly asks.

"Nop."

"Where're your scissors?"

"Where you left them last night."

"So, in the kitchen then," Donna states.

"Unless your memory falters, yes Donna you left them in the kitchen," Harvey adds.

"Harv-"

"Let's go cut this off."

With that, Harvey takes the wet t-shirt from Donna's hands and storms out of the bathroom, hurry in his steps. Donna barely keeps up with his pace, still surprised by his fast move. The towel that is wrapped around her frame isn't well secured and it starts to tumble around her.

Between her restricted wrist being dragged by an urgent force and her feet having trouble carrying her, she's torned apart.

"Harvey wait," Donna asks.

He hears nothing and continues to the door of the bedroom.

"Harvey please slow down!"

He's deaf to her requests.

Donna stops dead in her tracks, takes the chain of the handcuffs with both her hands -eventually letting down the towel a second time that day- and pulls on it with all of her strengths hoping to stop the bulldog Harvey turned into.

"Harvey stop!" She shouts this time. And this time he listens.

Her voice snaps Harvey out of his trans almost immediately, the urgent tone and force she applies on his wrist a wake up call.

"What now?" he barks and turns to her, taking the scene before him. Donna is naked a confused, gripping the handcuffs with such force her knuckles have turned white.

"You're hurting me."

His eyes go from her face to her breasts and it takes him a second to realise he's starring, "Oh shit Donna I'm-"

"Could you like- look elsewhere, please?"

"Oh, hum, yeah of course. Sorry," Harvey tears his eyes back off of her. The question startles him more than he'd admit. After all, he was inside her not ten minutes ago, but now seeing her naked is out of reach. Donna is building back on the barriers she let down to fuck him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she says as she grabs the towel and wraps it around her.

"Excuse me, I forgot we had those on, I didn't wanna hurt you."

"It's fine really. Just, be mindful next time. Please?"

"Sure." He dares to turn his eyes back on her, an apologetic gaze he throws at her.

"So, those scissors…"

"Yeah, the kitchen!"

They manage the rest of the journey towards the kitchen, and Donna tears apart Harvey's clothes once again.