Hello everyone,

so I've been wanting to do this for a while but since time has been very limited I decided to give myself a longer timeframe to do this (yes I did only start writing with 15 days till Christmas to go oops*) but here it is. My pick-your-plot fic, which is based on twelve polls I ran on Twitter, each with around 200 votes. So to start off let me do a little recap of the questions I asked and the winning option is presented in bold, so you know what you can (at the very least) expect in this fic.

Polls:

- Not together yet / in a relationship

- Angst / Romance / Both

- 1 / 2 / 3 flames (*you filthy animals*)

- Coffee / Scotch / Red Wine / Hot Chocolate

- ZSLWW / apartment 206 / Harvey's apartment / other

- Secret Santa / Mistletoe / 12 days of Xmas / Advent Calendar

- All I want for Xmas / Last Xmas / Couldn't it be Xmas everyday

- Mike and Rachel / Marcus and Lily / Jessica

- Red / Black / Blue / Green

- Light Snow / Middle Snow / Heavy Snow

- Share a bed / Fake Dating

- am I gonna be an Angle / Korsh

Because I'm me this, of course, became a super long fic, meaning I'm going to have to split it into two parts. Rating T/M the latter for anything that would fit that category (violence excluded, it's a holiday fic after all) so you have been 'warned' but also you know what you voted for, looking at those three flames.

I hope your picks made it (*winks at Laura*), and if not that you still enjoy this College AU fic. Let me know in the comments what you thought. Merry belated Christmas and fingers crossed, may the Grinch grant our darvey wishes in 8b/9a XOXO- M

*I really only started on December 23rd

Mistletoe Mystery

PART ONE

Tuesday, October 30th, 2018

"I think we should break up."

Her eyes snap open in a beat, head lifting from her arm as she watches Mark move across his dorm room. She watches him pace around for a few seconds, one hand tapping against the other in a nervous rhythm and it's only when his gaze lands on her again that she realises she should have responded by now.

"What?" she stammers now, finally hearing her boyfriend's words but not fully registering the meaning of them yet.

"We. I want to break up with you."

Her lips slowly part when she hears the words again, she stares at him dumbfounded now and it's the moment tears should come and in the past have come even when she was the one to end things. The fact that they don't appear now should tell her enough already but at the moment she's just taken by surprise to realise that. The lack of an emotional response is automatically covered by her rational side. She purses herself up on the couch, turning to face Mark a bit more now. "Why?"

Mark looks at her, shakes his head slightly and then laughs. His somewhat nervous chuckle echoing through the room and filling the tense silence between them. He opens his mouth to speak, but reconsiders.

She uses the silent seconds to come up with a reason for his declaration. Reasons even. Their age difference though two years isn't much. Their different interests; he never really enjoyed the theatre and it was practically what she lived and breathed but it hadn't been a problem so far. Their backgrounds; he came from the city and she from the upstate countryside.

Her mind is on overdrive as she watches him struggle to form an answer, another reason coming to mind with every second that passes but when he finally speaks the one word answers is the only things she never thought off and floors her all the same.

"Harvey."

"Harvey?" Donna parrots in a beat.

"Harvey," he answers firmer this time around, nodding as he pronounces the two syllables to emphasise how serious he is about his reason.

A nervous chuckle escapes her lips and she finally pushes herself onto her feet, taking two steps towards her ex as she confronts his words. "Harvey," she repeats once more in disbelief. "My best friend?" she adds, not sure if she's trying to clarify it for herself or him but there's only one Harvey in her life anyway. "He's the reason you want to end this?" she asks, signalling her hand in between them.

"Yeah," the economics student answers, shoulders shrugging as he speaks but he can see on the face of his ex-girlfriend that his answer won't be sufficient enough. "It's just…"

"Just… what?"

"It feels like there three people in this relationship."

"Three people." She laughs now, her right hand landing on her forehead. "You …" She shakes her head and points at him, taking a step back to the couch to retrieve her cardigan. "You're being ridiculous," she calls after him as she forcefully slips both her arms through the sleeves, swinging the thick fabric across her frame.

"Ridiculous," Mark snaps back as she marches to the chair in the corner of the room.

"Yes, ridiculous," she retorts, lifting her scarf from it and wraps it around her neck, she pulls her wool coat off of the chair next. Her angry movements preventing her from noticing how her keys slip out of one of the pockets and onto the floor. She's halfway to the front door when Mark's words stop her in her tracks.

"Then pick me."

She turns to look over her shoulder in his direction, the look on her face probably the reason for him to repeat the three words. "What?" she whispers.

"Harvey or me," Mark challenges her calling him ridiculous. "If I'm being ridiculous, then pick me."

She takes a deep breath and bites down on her tongue, she wants nothing more than to prove him wrong because he is. His reason is ridiculous and out of the blue, no grounds for it having become a reason in the first place and yet she can't. Won't. She won't let him win.

"You…" she croaks out, trying to keep her voice steady and suppresses the anger she feels inside, that outing itself in the way she wraps the belt around her waist and takes the last four steps to the door. Opening it in one big swing, she looks at Mark one last time. "You and I. We're done."

The strides onto the hallway are bigger and determined but she still shudders when the sound of the door falling shut behind her echoes through the empty space. Her breath hitching in the back of her throat when reality catches up with her, she brings her hand to cover her mouth when the first sob follows.

She isn't crying over Mark, just like her tears weren't for Mitchell or Stephen or anyone before or in between but because the reason is somehow always the same. No matter what she tells them, or what reality entails. It's always him.

Even when it's never been him.

He isn't the guy she's still hung up on. The guy she kissed that one Christmas night years ago and hasn't seen since. The guy she still wishes she'd run into and the guy she wishes each and every relationship she has had was with. The guy, with the exception of her roommate Rachel, none of them knew about.

And thus they all blamed it on the one person it wasn't about.

Her best friend.

Her Harvey.

She exhales deeply, determined to shake her annoyance off before she enters her apartment building. Stepping over the big puddle she rushes up the three concrete steps before pushing the big green door open to the communal hallway.

Wiping the droplets of rain from her face with her sleeve, removing a remainder of tears along with them she slowly starts her climb of the stairs. The two flight of stairs up never having felt this heavy, not even when drunk.

She is beyond tired, of the argument she keeps on having. The recurring theme of the breakups in her life being out of her control.

Sighing once more she blindly stuffs her hand in the pocket of her coat in search for her key. Rummaging around twice she pulls it out empty again and it takes a repeated action with her left hand and the other pocket of her coat for her to realise she must have lost her key.

"Fuck."

Her foot automatically kicks against the black door with the brass 206 written on it and she winces in pain. Toes curling in her boots as she curses her against, this time knocking on the door instead.

"Rach," Donna calls for her roommate. "It's … me," the last word leaving her lips barely above a whisper as she realises at that moment that the brunette wouldn't be home for Halloween.

"Shit," she curses now, patting the pockets of her coat again to check for her key once last time. She chastises herself now for Rachel's idea of hiding a key behind the planter on the landing and she can't help but give the inanimate object an evil glare.

Her gaze in the process landing on the staircase, the sight alone shouldn't be something strange but it makes her sigh now as she takes a step towards it and glances up at the floors above her.

She contemplates her options, even pulling out her phone to call Rachel but she knows it won't be of any use. Checking the time then, she realises that even if it's late, she has no other choice and with a deep sigh she begins the climb of the next three floors.

—

"Oh my god."

He smirks proudly, stares at the ceiling of his room as his head lands on his pillow. "Harvey will do."

His comeback results in a playful slap of his arm, hitting the exact spot her nails had just left their mark.

"That was amazing."

He lets out a deep breath, his smile already faded and his gaze blank. He wishes he could say the same in return, but great would be a stretch. Average at most, enough to kill the itch that's for sure.

"I am indeed," he answers then, not wanting to ignore her but ignoring her all the same. It takes another slow inhale for him to turn on his side and muster the resemblance of a smile before he leans back in and kisses the brunette again.

A defensive mechanism to numb the emptiness he feels inside, that he has been feeling inside for a while now. It's something he can't place and feels no need to define. His reputation not the result of that confusion but fuelled by it all the same.

It's not like he doesn't enjoy it at all but his actions are on autopilot, his lips moving against hers like a trained machine. Almost a show, but it shuts up his thoughts and that's enough for him. Enough to get through.

The brunette pulls back when three loud knocks echo through the apartment, questioning blue eyes staring up at him as she whispers his name.

He merely acts by pulling her closer. Telling her to ignore it and he tries to kiss her again. It's only when he hears his name again, louder this time and definitely another voice that he pulls back. His head snapping in the direction of the front door because he'd recognise that voice anywhere.

Rolling away, he quickly slips on his boxer shorts. Ignoring the brunette's voice calling his name and the arm reaching to pull him back, he gets up instead. Picking his black t-shirt from the floor, he tosses her dress over the bed as he slips his shirt on and makes his way out of his room and to the front door.

He opens it in a beat, her name already leaving his lips before he's seen his best friend. It's when he sees her face that his own falls and the curiosity he felt before makes place for concern. "Donna," he calls for her again. "Are you -"

"Oh my god."

Both best friends turn to look at the third person in the room, the petite brunette standing just behind Harvey.

"You've got to be kidding me. You have a girlfriend?!" The latter question directed to Harvey, but before he gets a chance to answer another one follows. Directed at the redhead this time. "You're his girlfriend?"

Donna rolls her eyes at the way the brunette points up and down between them, taking a step forward she bobs her head to the side and flashes the girl a smile. "Ooh, what if I am."

Harvey's mouth drops at Donna's answer and his own rebuttal is forgotten as he can merely turn to look at her, unsure of what's going on at the moment. The loud sigh that leaves the brunette's lips mere background noise.

It's only when the girl's flat palm hits his cheek and is followed by her telling him he doesn't have to bother to call her that he snaps out of his thoughts.

The girl storms off and pushes Donna out of the way with her shoulder, dramatically making her way to the elevator.

"He wasn't going to anyway," Donna calls after the girl, smirking to herself when another shriek fills the hallway before she disappears in the elevator.

"Well, thanks."

She turns to look at Harvey, her smirk fading again when she sees his face but she doesn't regret doing it. "What?" she adds now with a shrug. "You weren't going to call her."

He, indeed, wasn't planning on doing so but he can't let her get away with it so easily and thus he objects. Or tries to do so. "I -"

Her head automatically tilting to the right the second he starts talking, her right eyebrow raised as she gives him a firm look. Showing him there's no point in trying to tell her otherwise, she knows him best anyway.

"Fine," he gives in with an exasperated sigh, opening the door to the penthouse apartment further. He invites her in with a bob of his head as he steps aside. "I wasn't," he admits, pushing the door shut behind her again and he follows her to the shared living room.

"Which one was that like anyway?" she mutters as she crosses the room. "Fifth this month?" Her words coming out a bit harsher than she imagined them in her mind as she drops herself down on the black leather couch. "Fuck," she curses when her pulled up knee hits the wooden frame of the couch.

"Third," he corrects her statement even though he knows it makes no difference to his reputation and if anyone else had asked he wouldn't have answered in the first place, yet he somehow finds the need to let her know it's not exactly as bad as she imagines him to be. "Also," he points at the couch. "You know that thing has been broken since Tanner's birthday."

She sighs and thinks back to the rather wild party from last month, the broken couch partly caused by Rachel, Katrina and herself dancing on top of it. She shifts a little over the three seat piece to the middle, placing one of the pillows behind her back. It's only then that she lets her gaze roam through the apartment in search for his two roommates, the little bag of weed on the coffee table catches her eye. She shakes her head in disappointment and looks back up at Harvey.

He catches her gaze and turns to look at what she was just eyeing. "That's Mike's."

Donna bobs her head up and down in acknowledgement, turning to look over her shoulder to the room she knows to be Mike's. "Where's he anyway?"

Harvey raises his shoulder and shakes his head, not exactly knowing where his roommate is but he does know who he is with. "Where's your best friend?" he counters the question.

She laughs softly, knows who he is referring to but she shakes her head then, letting her gaze land on him again. "Looking at him."

Harvey bites down on his tongue, trying not to grin at the answer he knew his best friend would come up with. He watches her then, noticing the way her attention has drifted off again and how a sad smile has found a place on her usual happy face. He reminds himself of how she showed up out of the blue and he has to ask. "Why are you here?"

She lets out a deep breath and thinks over the last hour. Contemplating her answer she thinks about how much she's willing to share with him and ends up telling a half-truth. "I forgot… Lost my keys."

He looks at her in surprise, Donna has never been the person to forget something unimportant let alone her keys. He doesn't call her out on that though just asks her if she knows where.

"At Mark's," she admits, looking at her best friend, at last, she blinks twice to suppress feelings she can't place but aren't directly about her ex-boyfriend. "We broke up."

"Ooh." His mouth drops in surprise, he never particularly liked the guy but she seemed happy and that was enough to make him happy. Now that it's over he doesn't have to pretend to care for the guy at all and he only realises he should have said he's sorry for her when it's too late so instead he offers her a place to stay.

"Harvey, I –"

"Don," he protests in a beat, pausing his own sentence to let out a yawn and he turns to look at the clock above the dining table. "It's the middle of the night, you don't have a key. Just stay." The last words are spoken as he directs his hand to his bedroom.

She wants to say no, she should say no but if she's being honest with herself she doesn't want to be alone tonight. The redhead's gaze follows the motion of his hand and it lands on his bed, sheets half thrown on the ground and she is reminded of what she basically walked in on.

"I'm not sleeping in your bed."

"The couch is still broken so if you rather sleep with Tanner or Mike be my guest, but –"

"It's not that," she counters because she isn't scared of sharing a bed with him. They've had to make do once before and it was fine then and it will be fine then. "It's just…"

He turns to look over his shoulder to his room, now observing his own bed and he suddenly remembers what he was doing when she showed up at his place. "Ooh," he sighs, running his hand through his hair and it's the first time since she showed up that he realises he isn't fully dressed either. "Right," he decides then, making his way over to his room and he reaches for the sheets. Pulling them from the comforter and his mattress, pillow covers next. He rolls the pile of sheets up in his arms and demonstratively walks over to the washing bin in the corner of his room. Disposing of the dirty fabrics there, he reaches for clean ones from his closet and tosses them on his duvet.

She bites down on her lip, trying not to comment or even smile at his gesture. One that's very much appreciated but instead of voicing it she gets up herself and helps him with the tedious task. Placing both pillows in the dark blue covers while he does the rest.

"Are you staying now?"

She rolls her eyes and suppresses a grin, muttering a fine in return just before she walks over to a small dresser on the right side of his room. Opening it up she rummages through the contents until she finds what she's looking for and she proudly shows him his own Harvard t-shirt before she repeats the process in the drawer below. Picking out one of his boxers for her to sleep in. "Pyjamas," she mouths silently.

He laughs at the ease she does this with and he mirrors her motions by getting a clean pair of boxer shorts and shirt for himself, a towel next. "I'll be quick," he tells her just before he walks out of his room, leaving her to change.

When he returns he finds her sitting on the right side of his bed. A bunch of pillows that had previously resided on the couch in the living room now in the middle of his bed. His brows furrow a bit and he wasn't going to comment but it's her cheeky grin that makes him do so anyway.

"What's all this?" he asks as he rounds the bed and gets under the sheets on the other side. Sliding under the covers until his head hits his pillow and he brings his left arm up the rest under his head.

"Just making sure you stay on your side." She grins at the face he makes and copies his motions then, turning off the light on the nightstand on her side of his bed, she slides under the covers and turns to lie on her right side.

"Me?" he mocks her. "I think you'd have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself, Paulsen."

She bites down on her tongue and her eyes close for the briefest of moments. Something he could have noticed if it wasn't for the pillow mountain in between them. "You wish."

The two words ring in his ears and leave a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, he opens his mouth to comment but only manages to gasp for air. The silence that follows on his part just a second too long to overcome so he changes the subject altogether.

"I'm sorry about Mark."

She inhales deeply at his words, pressing her lips together in a thin line as she turns to lie on her back. Her gaze directed at the ceiling it takes her even longer to answer. "It's okay. He just… He wasn't the one."

—

Wednesday, October 31st, 2018

She wakes when a ray of sunshine slips through the curtains, her eyes slowly flickering open as she fights her disorientation and it takes a full minute for her to realise she fell asleep in her best friend's bed. Yawning once, she runs a hand over her face and brings the loose strands of her ginger manes behind her ear.

Taking one more moment for herself in silence, she eventually pushes herself up and lets her gaze travel down the right side of the bed until her gaze lands on it. Standing there, proudly erect she has to look away to stop herself from giggling.

Pushing the duvet aside, she swings her long legs over the side of the bed. She brings both hands above her head and stretches her back once before getting up. Turning to look over her shoulder, she eyes the cactus she gave him a few months prior one more time.

"I can't believe you managed to keep it alive."

He hears her voice come from his bedroom and downs the cup of coffee he'd been drinking. Walking through the shared living room he stops in his own door opening. "What now?"

She bobs her head to the side and points at the little plant that's started to bloom since she last saw it with a flick of her wrist.

"It was a bet," he reasons, reminding her of how she once told him he wouldn't be able to look after a plant when he'd gotten the stupid idea to adopt the stray cat that always walked around the building. She'd been right though, as even this little piece of greenery was a task in itself. "And you know I don't lose."

She rolls her eyes but laughs anyway, when her gaze returns to her best friend she realises he's dressed already and she suddenly feels very naked in the clothes she stole from him. "I'm uh…" she looks down her own body, taking a step to back to the chair she used as a dresser the night before.

He bobs his head up and down in understanding. "Bathroom is free, Tanner and Ross had an eight am class," he explains on his way back to the living room. "Coffee?" he calls after her then.

"Hell yeah."

A small ten minutes later Donna returns fully dressed from the bathroom, the t-shirt and boxer shorts she borrowed neatly folded in her hands. She makes her way over to the breakfast bar of the apartment, placing the garments down she takes the freshly brewed cup of coffee from his hand.

"Vanilla is in there."

She smiles softly and brings the cup to her lips, taking a sip of the hot beverage she needs to start her mornings. It's then that her gaze lands on a familiar object on the counter, her eyes automatically flickering up to look at him.

"I picked them up this morning," he explains, pushing the keys over to her. "Figured this way you didn't have to see that dumbass again."

She swallows thickly and eyes him for a moment at loss for words. "Thank you."

"Any time, Debs." His nickname for her only added to lighten the mood he watches her for a moment, gulping himself when he notices the sombre look on her face return once more. It pains him to see it and he wonders if her nonchalant behaviour from the night before was merely a façade.

"Hey," he calls for her attention when he remembers what day it is. One he despises but it's her favourite of the year. "It's Halloween," he uses the date as a way to cheer her up but it only makes her sigh and to his credit, it only takes him a few seconds to realise why. "Matching costumes?"

"Yeah," she shrugs, her mouth twisted. She focuses on the cup of coffee he handed her, finishing it in two big sips. Something she shouldn't have done as his next sentence nearly makes her choke on it.

"I'll do it."

She coughs once, twice. The cup landing on the counter in a soft thud, her palms flat on the surface next to him as she eyes him cautiously. "What?"

"I'll wear whatever monstrosity you had planned for," he stops his sentence before pronouncing her ex's name.

She shakes her head once. "You hate Halloween."

"Yeah," he admits, mirroring her position by leaning on his hands on the other side of the breakfast bar. "But I hate seeing you upset even more."

Donna's lips curl up ever so slightly and she looks down because at the sincerity his words were delivered with. Taking a deep breath, she meets his gaze once more soon after. "Fine," she gives in like she's the one doing him a favour and it only makes him grin. "But no complaining whatsoever."

"Deal."

—

"What the hell is this?" He eyes the bright orange piece of fabric she just handed him and his words from that morning come to mind again. It really was a monstrosity. He moves the apparent costumes through his hands, now staring at all the black dots stitched onto the bag.

"Your costume," she reasons, handing a blue tie over to him as well as a papier-mâché wooden bat. "Now embrace your inner caveman and get this on," she signals the costume in his hands, using her own on his shoulders to turn him around and redirect him out of her room.

Pushing her door shut behind him, she lets out a deep breath and tells herself to just enjoy the night and not think about who she was supposed to wear her matching costume with. Or that she's now wearing it with the reason for her break up in the first place.

Exhaling once more, she walks over to her closest and reaches for the white one-shoulder just below thigh length dress. Placing it down on her bed she lifts her shirt over her head, undoes the button of her pants and wiggles out of the thick denim.

Slipping into the dress and decorating it with a pearl necklace, she moves to the mirror and eyes her reflection before she brings her right hand to her left shoulder. Slipping the strap of her bra down, she reaches behind her back and unhooks the garment before removing it altogether. She brings her ginger strands together in a messy bun and finishes her outfit off with red lipstick.

He looks down at the blue tie around his neck, the long orange dress that definitely requires him to discard his jeans and he wishes she had told him to bring a pair of shorts but it's too late for that now anyway. He can already hear their roommates laugh at him, but she's the only one he'll go to these lengths for. Even if it requires him to dress up as Fred Flintstone and he's actually proud of himself for recognising the costume in the first place.

His thoughts are interrupted when he hears her bedroom door open again and he slowly turns around to witness his best friend return in a very short white dress. He swallows once thickly and he can't stop his eyes from raking over her form, lingering on her legs and shoulder for just a second too long before his gaze meets hers. Noticing a hint of curiosity in her gaze he realises she must have noticed his behaviour and he covers it up by exclaiming one of the phrases he remembers of the cartoon.

"Yabba Dabba Doo."

She chuckles once. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Ooh, it was, Wilma." He flashes her his signature smirk. "My wife is the most beautiful gal in Bedrock, you know."

She grins again, can't believe that after all his complaining he's actually quoting the cartoon to her. She crosses the living room and steps closer to her best friend, only coming to a halt right in front of him, she instantly brings her hand to the blue silk fabric. Tying it for him, she lets the item slowly slip through her grasp before she realises she should take a step back again. "Thanks, Fred," she breaks the silence, at last, pulling her hands back to her side. Her hands tapping against her hips as she moves away. "Let's go."

—

She is having a great time, she really is but when by midnight the second guy she's talking to that night asks her if the guy in the matching outfit is her boyfriend her holiday spirit is turned down a notch. It's two attempts of explaining that he is just her best friend and three sighs later that she finds herself alone at the bar, downing a cocktail she doesn't particularly like but someone bought her, that she decides to call it a night.

He watches the blonde in front of him laugh but the last thing he said wasn't even remotely funny and he hasn't consumed enough alcohol yet to let it slide. Instead, he forces a fake smile on his own face, nods at the girl whose name he'd forgotten the second she told him. She laughs again and god it's getting awkward it almost makes him cringe.

It's then that he notices a flash of red hair move in the distance and his attention is automatically drawn to the person it belongs to. His best friend. He watches her from afar, the way she moves through the crowd and he also notices the girl in front of him is following his gaze but he doesn't care one bit.

He takes a step to the side when the redhead comes closer, his hand extended it automatically finds her wrist and in the same moment, it makes her halt he pulls his hand back. "Everything okay?"

She looks at him, the blonde next to him and she forces herself to smile. To anyone else it would look genuine, she only hopes he doesn't see it isn't in this particular moment. She remembers interrupting his last date and she has no intention of doing it again, he was only here because she asked so pretending she is alright is the least she can do.

"Yeah," she answers, nodding along. "I was just going to the rest rooms."

He has no reason not to believe her so he does, pressing his lips together in a thin smile. He nods in acknowledgement to her statement and lets her walk away. His gaze remaining on her retreating form until she disappears from his peripheral vision and it's then that a loud cough catches his attention again.

"Who was that?"

He exhales slowly, tries to ignore the annoyance he feels building up inside and he has every right to ignore her question but he doesn't. Figures the quickest way to get it over with is just to say it.

"Donna."

"Who?"

The way the blonde's head bobs forward and her voice raises to a new height as she asks, reminds him of a Snoop Dogg meme he's seen online lately and he bites down on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. He could just walk away and he really doesn't want to be having this conversation but he finds himself explaining anyway.

"My best friend."

His night does eventually end with the blonde in his bedroom, but it's when she tries to remove his costume that she asks again. Why he had a matching one with 'that other girl.'

"Her name's Donna."

"Whatever," the blonde mutters, trying to undo the knot of his tie and she has the audacity to give him an accusing look when he sighs. "Ooh," she concludes now, letting the fabric slide from her grasp and she moves away. "I get it, she's your ex."

He stumbles back two steps, brows furrowing together in a frown and he tosses the stupid blue tie to the chair in the corner of his room. "What now?"

"Your ex," she repeats so slowly it makes him feel like he's the delusional one here. "No what… Single twenty-four-year-old would dress up in a matching couples costume with his best friend." The last two words actually delivered with air quotes and he merely bobs his head to the side, shaking it slowly. "Unless said best friend is actually your ex whom you still have feelings for."

Her words hit him out of the blue, they aren't factually correct and yet it feels like the truth all the same. A truth he isn't willing to admit or even think about its existence. "That's stupid."

"No," the blonde shakes her head. She's moving off of his bed and talking with her hands as if she's just had the epiphany of the year. As if she has to lecture him on her knowledge. "The only thing that's stupid here is that I didn't see it sooner. That I still ended up here."

He watches her grab her shoes and the lame excuse of a coat she brought along. If she hadn't given him this entire speech he would have, to some extent, tried to get her back in his bed. Now he lets her walk away, in fact, he even finds the decency to escort her to the door. It's only when she's outside that he feels the need to set things straight. "Not that I owe you any explanation, but Donna and I we've never –"

He stops mid-sentence because he can't physically get the words out but he tells himself it's because the blonde has disappeared inside the elevators by then. He shakes his head again, isn't quite certain if he's annoyed or relieved. Probably a combination of both, but nothing a little bit of weed can't help.

Swinging the strap of her clutch over her shoulder, Donna crosses the entrance hall of their apartment building towards the stairs. With a tired sigh, she removes her heels and decides to climb the two floors barefoot.

The sound of the elevator doors sliding open in the lobby makes the redhead halt midway on the first floor. It's not the hour she expected one of her fellow tenants to leave, so she quickly leans to the railing and watches the doors to the metal box part.

Donna watches the blonde she'd seen hang around her best friend earlier that night strut out of it, pulling a thin coat over her shoulder and moving a hand through her hair as she marches towards the front door. The redhead gaze remains on the door for a couple of seconds longer, enough to make her stomach turn even if it shouldn't. She knows what he's like.

She exhales slowly, hand tapping against the wooden railing twice before she pushes herself forward. Making her way to her apartment, she quickly and quietly opens the door and rushes to her room. Making sure not to wake Rachel in case she did make it home before her, it's only when she drops her tired frame down on her bed that she lets the sadness she's ignored all day overcome her.

—

Thursday, November 1st 2018

"Donna?" Her call for her roommate is followed by three soft knocks on her bedroom door.

"Come in."

The law student slowly moves her hand down to the handle and opens the door, the sight inside exactly what she expected to find. She had heard about the breakup, just not from the redhead herself. She offers a soft smile when she watches her friend push herself up to sit and she crosses the room to hop down on the duvet next to her. "Made you a coffee."

Donna whispers her gratefulness as she takes the mug from Rachel's hands, cupping it with both hands she lets the warmth spread over her before she brings it to her lips to take a sip. It doesn't have vanilla but it's the gesture that counts. "Thank you," she tells her again.

"Why don't we skip class today and go shopping."

Donna eyes her friend for a moment and then laughs. "Where's my roommate and what have you done with her."

Rachel chuckles and playfully slaps Donna's arm. "I'm not actually married to the library," she reasons. "Even if Mike sometimes thinks I am."

Both girls laugh at that and the redhead turns to look at the brunette again. "Where's he?"

"Sent him home this morning," Rachel answers. "Figured my best friend might need me."

Donna's gaze flickers from the cup in her hand to meet Rachel's.

"I heard about Mark."

Donna shakes her head and sighs. "It's not…" she pauses, "I can't even remember why I liked him." The words are a lie but it doesn't make the situation any different, she doesn't miss him and she doesn't actually care about their break up. She cares about the reason it ended though.

"It's just," she starts again, pausing to take another sip of her coffee before she sighs once more. Keeps her gaze "It's just always the same story. The same reason -"

"Because it's never him?"

Donna gulps and redirects her attention to the woman sitting next to her.

Rachel brings her hand to rest on Donna's knee when she sees the confused look in her friend's eyes, squeezing it briefly to show her she knows. "That guy from the Christmas market three years ago."

"Ooh." She looks away and down at the empty cup in her hands, at a loss for words and again reminded of yes, one of the reasons it never works out. It just isn't the reason her three last boyfriends had given her. "No," she admits, taking a deep breath as she tries to formulate her answer. "I mean yes, none of them were him and that's… I guess that's a reason too, yes, but it's Harvey."

"Harvey?"

Donna chuckles at the hint of surprise that came through Rachel's voice. "Yeah you know, one of your boyfriend's roommates." Her dab only results in a tilted head on the brunette's part and inquiring eyes to the real meaning behind her name drop. "He's… He's my best friend and they can't handle that."

Rachel watches the redhead shrug, press her lips into a thin line and she quietly watches her friend for a moment. "Could he be more than your best friend?"

"Harvey?" She whispers so softly it's almost inaudible, having trouble to get his name over her lips.

"Yeah, you could always try with him."

Donna shakes her head, frowning even at the suggestion. "He. He is my best friend," she reasons, moving around in her bed now. Pushing the sheets away and placing the empty mug on her nightstand. "That's it. He wouldn't… I don't and he –"

"Isn't the guy from the market."

"Exactly," Donna answers in a beat.

A finality in her tone of voice and the way she gets up physically putting an end to this conversation. Something that doesn't go unnoticed to Rachel and she lets it slide, knows her friend will talk when she's ready. In the meantime, she'll be there for her anyway. "So should we go to Saks or stroll down Broadway?"

—

Saturday, November 10th 2018

"There."

Harvey looks away from the screen above the bar that's broadcasting a baseball game as two trays are placed on the wooden table in front of him, one filled with beers, the other with shots of tequila. He eyes the drinks for a moment and then looks up to Tanner and Sean.

"It was this or mimosas." The latter explains, bobbing his head to the side to their fellow law student that joins the table now.

Harvey watches Harold join them at the table and nods politely. He doesn't particularly like the guy, but like Louis, he's part of their group. Sean reaches for a shot glass and downs it in one go as Tanner distributes the glasses of beer amongst the other men.

Mike takes a glass in his hand and raises it, waiting for the rest to copy his moves. "No more ethics exams." All glasses cling together and a loud cheer echoes through the bar. The motion repeated again and again with every subject they closed off already as beers and shots are refilled one after the other.

"No more mock trials," Harold yells now. His hand with a glass of beer hanging lonely above the table as all the other guys stare at him in slight confusion, the only subject all of them actually enjoyed and challenged each other at.

Harvey will never admit it but Louis had a mean game and going up against him was one of the toughest things he's ever done that year. So instead of toasting to this with his empty glass he signals the glasses on the table with his hand and makes his way over to the bar for another round after four consecutive nods follow.

Hands tapping against the counter, he waits for the barman to turn around and he momentarily contemplates switching his beer out for a glass of scotch. He doesn't because he can practically hear her question his actions. That and elbow that clashes against his own, followed by a giggle and a sorry.

He turns to look to his right, eyes landing on a girl he hasn't seen before and before he knows it he's flashing her signature grin and buying her a drink. Only realising he forgot to go back to his friends when both Tanner and Mike demonstratively walk up to the bar and order the drinks Harvey neglected right next to him.

He also knows they don't really mind all that much at the way Mike slaps his shoulder and Tanner wishes him luck, proceeding by telling the girl Harvey will have the apartment all by himself that night.

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes, waits for them to leave before he apologises and introduces himself at last. The conversation flows and he's actually having a good time until the blonde brings up the one subject he never imagined to have left her lips.

Donna.

"I'm sorry," he stammers, blinking twice he even starts to wonder if he heard it correctly or if he made it up himself. "What did you say?" The blonde flashes him a smile that leaves him feeling uneasy but it's nothing compared to the words that follow.

"I said, what would your girlfriend think about you sitting at a bar hitting on other girls. Donna is her name, right?"

His best friend already a touchy subject, combined with infidelity it takes every fibre of his being not to lash out right now. That's something he would never do. "She isn't my girlfriend."

The girl actually laughs in his face at his words, shakes her head and gets up from her barstool. "I beg to differ," she announces just before she turns on her spot and walks away, leaving the law student at a loss for words. He can only watch her walk away, still confused as to what just happened he can't help but notice the blonde join what seems to be a group of her friends. It's then when all girls turn to look at him and wave that he notices.

The brunette he had in his bed just over a week ago.

"Fuck." He looks away in a beat and lifts the glass tumbler from the bar, downing the remainder of scotch in one go. He signals for the bartender to refill his glass. That one downed at the same speed, he tosses two ten dollar bills on the surface and calls it a night.

—

Sunday, November 11th 2018

Mike gets home at eleven that morning after having crashed at Rachel and Donna's. Key slowly turning around in the lock, he carefully pushes the apartment door open and pokes his head inside. "Is the coast clear?" he calls out loud enough for the entire floor to hear him as it wouldn't be the first time for him to run in on either of his roommates with a girl being there.

"Morning to you too."

Mike's eyes widen in surprise at the cranky voice of his roommate. He flings the door open further now and walks inside, dropping his jacket over one of the barstools he observes his friend staring at the bottom of a coffee mug.

"Long night?"

Harvey stills his movements, letting go of the mug and he looks up to Mike. Confused by his inquiry for a moment, he catches up quickly enough to not let anything get away. "No," he admits with a shrug, reaching for the fruit bowl he gets an apple. Rolls it around twice and takes a bite out of it while getting up and walking over to the living room, hoping it would mean an end to his friend's questions but it's Mike and he should have known better.

"What happened? I thought you were hitting it off."

He chuckles to himself, shakes his head. "Nothing happened," it's the truth and a lie all in once and when he turns to sit down on one of the leather chairs he notices by the look on Mike's face that his answer isn't sufficient enough. He drops down on the seat and props his feet on the coffee table, using the few seconds to think over his answer but he can't tell him the real reason he ended up home alone. "It just," he pauses, sighs and shrugs. "Didn't feel right. I guess. That's all. Nothing major."

Mike's brows raise in surprise and bend down together in a frown in the span of a second. The amount of words Harvey used in his explanation enough for him to know it wasn't nothing major at all. "Would that be because she isn't the one –"

"Mike."

The blonde law student hears the hint of annoyance in Harvey's voice and normally he'd take the hint and let it rest but this is a subject he has done that to too many times already anyway. "You know who I mean."

He knows who Mike means but he won't pronounce her name. "It's not like that, okay," he offers instead and if it weren't for the repeated resurfacing of the topic he would have believed himself wholly. It is not like that. He repeats the five words in his mind, words he likes to believe.

"Since when?"

Harvey scoffs loudly. "Since always."

"Right," Mike shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "Cause that's exactly how I remember –"

"Mike."

"Just tell her."

"There's nothing to tell."

—

Saturday, November 17th 2018

"How are things in love?"

It takes two coughs and a polite nudge of her elbow for Donna to realise the question was directed to her. She quickly looks up from the glass of wine in her hands, lets her gaze roam over the group of girls scattered around the living room until it lands on Samantha, the one that asked the question.

"I broke up with Mark a few weeks ago actually."

"Ooh." Samantha brings her hand in front of her mouth. "I'm so sorry," she whispers next, reaching her hand out to Donna's arm. "I didn't –"

"Know," the redhead finishes the sentence for her. "I know. I just didn't feel like continuously sharing news about a break up I'm already over anyway." She raises her shoulders and lets them drop again, taking a sip of her wine she flashes her friends a smile after.

"Have you met someone else?" Katrina asks now, her question spiking the interest of the other girls and a look is shared between Jessica and Rachel.

"No."

"But you'd be open to date again?" Katrina asks, watching her friends expression carefully for any hint.

"Uhm," Donna mutters, inhaling and exhaling deeply as the question takes her a bit by surprise. "Yeah. I guess."

"Great," the blonde chirps, clapping her hands together. "Cause Brian has a new roommate and I think he'd be perfect for you."

"I –" Donna hesitates for a moment, the way the other girls are encouraging her feeling a bit overwhelming.

"Ooh, come on. You're single. He likes everything you like," Katrina reasons. "It would be perfect."

The redhead brings her glass of wine to her lips, takes a big gulp and swallows thickly. "Okay," she gives in with the help of some liquid courage. "What the heck. Fine."

—

Wednesday, November 21st 2018

Another two failed dates later he finds himself knocking on the wooden door three floors down. A six-pack of beer under his arm he leans against the door frame and waits for the brass 206 to make place for her ginger strands. A smile plasters his face and the way he shows her the bottles of beer is enough for her to step aside and invite him in with a bob of her head.

"Hey," she drops down on the couch next to him, takes the bottle he just opened from his hand and brings it to her lips. "Haven't seen you in a while. It's been like what a trimester?"

He rolls his eyes at first, her weird trademark of counting the time they've known each other in three month periods instead of years. Thirteen she would say but it's really been twelve and a half. He stares at her as his hands blindly open another bottle but as he thinks about it she is right. Not a trimester-long but it had been a while since they had hung out together, just the two of them that is. "Yeah," he admits. "Been too long."

"Should I feel offended though," she teases him, her elbow hitting his shoulder at the questioning look he throws in her direction. "That it takes both of your roommates being out for you to hang out with me."

He rolls his eyes at her complaint, brings the bottle of beer to his lips and takes a sip. "That." He stops his own sentence one word in, knows he'd fall for a trap she set him otherwise. "No," he starts again now, bringing the bottle down to his other hand. He moves it around in between them, gaze looking down for a second before he glances up to her. "I did miss this."

She smiles brightly, only averting her gaze to the bottle in her hands when he looks away. Her hair loosely falling around her face but she doesn't move them to cover the slight blush she feels forming on her face. She moves the bottle around in her hand, her fingertips tracing the label on the glass object until she tugs on a loose corner. "Me too."

Harvey grins, takes another gulp of his beer before he turns to look at her again. "We should do it more often."

"We should," she repeats, shifting over the couch. She pulls up her legs under her and moves around some pillows.

"In fact," he continues, watching her still move around. The way she takes another sip of her beer, he looks away then. Not willing to look at her when he speaks next. "I think we should date."

It's that she had just taken a sip of her drink but she chokes on air all the same. She coughs once, brings her hand to her chest and she eyes him. Only for a moment, before looking away again. Not sure how to deal with his news. "What?"

His eyes close and he already regrets blurting it out in the first place, he wonders if he can just pretend he never said it but he knows she'll bug him about it anyway. And it's not like that anyway. "We should date," he repeats.

"I –" She stops speaking instantly, opening and closing her mouth right after. "Harvey."

"Not for real," he quickly adds now.

She bobs her head to the side, finally allows herself to watch him. "You're not making any sense right now."

"I just," he pauses, thinking over his answer for a moment. He downs the remainder of his beer, placing the empty bottle on the table. He shuffles over the couch, letting his elbows lean on his knees, he looks to his left at her again. "Look I know that us being best friends isn't exactly beneficial to relationships. For either of us."

She takes in his words, bobs her head up and down in acknowledgement before she lingers on the meaning of his words. "You want a relationship?"

"What," he fires back. "No." He shakes his head. "No, that's not it. Remember that girl that was at my place the night you ended things with Mark?" He watches her nod and he nods too. "She uhm.. I guess she kind of told her friends that you and I are an item and since then… I uhm –"

"Can't get laid?" she fills in his sentence for him, biting down on her tongue as she wills herself not to laugh at the situation.

He gives her a stern look, shakes his head once. "I could," he counters but he sighs immediately after. "Okay fine. I can't. Everyone seems to think we are together, that there's something unexplored here that needs to be explored," he adds signalling his hand up and down in between them. "And if it's like this for me, I can only imagine what having me as your best friend means for you when you're dating someone."

Donna adjusts her seating, the conversation they're having still weird but the nerves she felt the moment he posed his question have toned down. "It may have caused a relationship to end," she admits. "Or two."

He nods and presses his lips together in a thin line, giving her an apologetic smile but in a way, he's glad his assumptions were right and he isn't making a complete fool out of himself here. "Now I know that we know better than anyone else, but I figured if we pretended to date it would give everyone a reason to shut up. We break up after a month, we can tell anyone that we tried. It didn't work. No more fake what ifs."

She stares at him for a few seconds, still perplexed by his suggestion and yet he's the only one she knows crazy enough to come up with such a thing. The only one she might even do such a thing with. "I don't know, Harvey," she answers, just isn't sure if it's really necessary. "It's kind of crazy," she reasons. "No offence," she adds when she sees his smile falter. "I mean… what if we did this, the holidays are right around the corner."

"That's the perfect timing of it all," he counters. "Everyone will be going home to see family, us included so that's already a bunch of days less for us to pretend."

She catches the way he smirks, clearly proud of his reasoning and this is one of the moments she hates him being a law graduate student. He does know how to make it convincing, even a crazy plan like this.

"I -" she mutters, feeling conflicted and nervous again. One part of her doesn't want to let him down but she also knows she has to listen to her own gut. Her gut telling her no. "I'm sorry."

He sees more than hears her whispered answer and while he knew the possibility of her answer being negative was highly likely it still stings. Just a bit.

"No problem."

She smiles softly, leans forward to hand him another one of his own beers as a peace offering. "If you want I could talk to them."

"No, it's okay. I can deal with it." He shakes his head, takes the bottle from her hand and uses his keychain again to remove the lid. He brings the bottle to his mouth and takes a large sip, his free hand reaching inside the pocket of his sweater. He removes a little bag with a joint from it, offering it to her. "It was a stupid idea anyway."

She doesn't smile this time around, just tugs on the little plastic bag in his hand and opens it up to reach for the joint inside. Taking the lighter he's removed from his pocket after, she runs her thumb down the switch and lights the joint.

"How high were you when you came up with that plan?"

He laughs, watches her take a drag and he instantly steals the joint from her grasp. Smoking it himself now. "Who says I was high?"

"Please."

—

Saturday, November 24th 2018

She shifts nervously over the barstool, freshly painted red nails impatiently tapping against the bar in front of her. She contemplates reaching for her drink and finishing this one too but she can't possibly order a third before her date even started. Instead, she brings her hands to the small purse that's resting on her lap, zipping it open she reaches for her iPhone. Unlocking the screen she stares at the time.

08:21 pm

Already twenty-one minutes passed the time her date was supposed to start. So much so for mister perfect. The only reason she even stayed beyond her fifteen-minute waiting limit is that she doesn't want Katrina to feel bad for setting them up.

She locks her phone again, hiding it back in her purse she eyes her drinks once more. Nine minutes. That's how much longer she'll give this guy. She doesn't even know his name yet, just that he's Brian's new roommate. Studies history and that he likes Shakespeare, the latter definitely working in his favour as she's still sitting here.

Her hand is back to the impatient tapping on the surface in front of her as her gaze drifts off to the clock hanging behind the bar. Another minute has passed and she sighs, louder than she intended and she reaches for her glass of scotch. Letting the remainder of alcohol swivel around in the glass as she moves it in her hand, eventually bringing it to her lips and downing it in one go.

"Don't go just yet."

Her eyes flicker open and she swallows thickly, the alcohol burning as it runs down her throat. She gives herself a second to compose herself before turning around to look at the guy that just showed up.

"I'm so sorry," he announces in a haste, bringing a hand up to his dark hair. Using it to smooth out his dishevelled hair. "My bike broke down and then I missed the bus," he explains, letting out a deep breath as he eyes her. "That's no excuse, I know. Wow, look at you, I should have been here half an hour early."

She can't help but giggle at that, looking down at her shoes to hide the blush starting to creep up on her face, maybe Katrina was right all along.

"Shit," he mutters softly, making her look up at him again. "Where are my manners." He brushes his hand along his coat and extends it to her at last. "Thomas Kessler."

She extends her hand to take his, slowly shaking it. "Hi Thomas, I'm Donna Paulsen."

"Ooh." He frowns for a moment, looking her up and down. "So it is you."

She takes a step back, not sure how to feel about this. "I'm sorry?"

"I mean," he shrugs. "I knew I was meeting a friend of Katrina's, I just thought you were with that guy, what's his name? They had an internship at the same D.A.'s office."

Donna bobs her head up and down, presses her lips together in a thin line. She didn't need his explanation to know who he's talking about, because it's always him. "Harvey," she fills in now, taking another step back she lifts her coat from the barstool and slips it on. Handing gripping onto the clutch she brought, she looks at her supposed date again.

"I'm sorry. This isn't going to work."

—

Sunday, November 25th 2018

She tosses the empty Chunky Monkey container in the bin, licks the spoon clean and drops that in the sink. Leaving it there to clean for later, the hangover she's still experiencing at one in the afternoon making her reach for the bottle of red wine she almost emptied the night before on an empty stomach.

She considers reaching for a glass but gives up with her arm still mid-air, dropping it back down she just pulls on the cork. Depositing that in the bin, she takes a sip of wine straight out of the bottle. Using the back of her hand to wipe away a droplet of wine that spilt on her chin.

She drunkenly dances through the apartment, stopping in front of her own bedroom she changes her mind and moves to the door of her roommates. Knocking on the door twice, she only notes the post-it that was stuck against it when it flutters to the floor and lands on her bare feet. She squats down and reaches for the yellow piece of paper, reading the message on it.

I'm visiting Grammy with Mike. X – Rachel

Donna groans, eyes falling shut and she crumbles the small piece of paper in her hand. Immediately regretting her reaction, she unfolds her hand again and tries to straighten the wrinkled post it between her fingers, eventually just placing it on the dresser next to the door.

Turning around on her spot, the bottle still in hand. She observes the place, looks around the living room and for the first time since she moved in with Rachel she feels alone. The place has always felt like home, yet now it doesn't. She wanders to a wall across the room, it's filled with pictures of them. Their friends, even a few remain from the time Rachel's older adoptive sister lived there.

The redhead lifts a picture of Samantha, Rachel and their parents, thinks about the story of the blonde joining the family her roommate told her more than once. She admires it, envies it a bit even. Her own family having fallen apart after her father lost all their savings, now more than ten years later her mother and father still aren't on speaking terms.

Hanging the picture back, she scans the rest. One from Halloween two years ago, the trip their group of friends took to Disneyland because she had never been before and many more. Her gaze eventually landing on one from New Years' Eve last year, it shows Louis Litt on the left, Jessica Pearson next to him and then them. Her and her best friend, Harvey Specter, all sporting champagne glasses and smiles. Her hand is placed on his shoulder and she looks happy. Genuinely happy.

She thinks about Rachel's words but shakes her head, he's her best friend. She doesn't have romantic feelings for him, just like he doesn't think about her like that. She remembers his suggestion from a few nights ago, it makes her laugh still. The absurdity of it is next level and yet she's thought about it more times than she likes to admit. Not because she wants to date him but because of his reasoning behind it, the problems she keeps running into and how it may solve them.

Exhaling deeply, she lifts the wine bottle to her mouth again and finishes the remainder in one go. She ends up draped over the couch, the empty glass on the floor next to her and when she reaches for her phone to text him she honestly thinks it's the best idea ever.

'Bout your plan. Deal.

—

Monday, November 26th 2018

"Ooh my fucking god."

She runs her hand over her face, pulling on her skin she watches the dark circles under her eyes and the way her hair sticks out in every direction. The headache she feels this morning is like no other and she considers it a miracle she even managed to roll out of her bed at seven in the morning.

Mindlessly opening the tab, she uses both hands to pull her t-shirt over her head. Dropping it on the cold tile floor, she wiggles herself out of her pyjama bottoms and panties in one go. Eyes already closed she climbs into the bathtub, the ice-cold water surprising her so much she jumps back and pulls the curtain with her in her move, making four of the five hooks snap.

"Shit." She curses, shivering and feeling warm because of the adrenaline at the same time. "Shit shit shiiiiiiiiit." She repeats, carefully lifting the soaked fabric in her hands and moving back to the showerhead first to adjust the temperature to something more comfortable. She looks at the hooks and then the curtain in her hands but soon enough realises she won't be able to put it back up. Letting it hang to the side she stares at the reflection of her tired self in the mirror across the bathroom and shakes her head.

She calls herself stupid and quietly turns to face the shower, finally letting the water cascade down her face and frame. She stays like that for a while, using the water as a way to wake up but with the lack of a shower curtain a lot of the heat escapes and she finds herself shivering again a minute later. She reaches for her scrub, squirts some of the contents on her hand, divides it between the two of them and then starts at her shoulders. Massaging her way down her frame and long limbs, she detangles the showerhead and washes the scrub away.

Letting the water run down her right knee, she shifts her weight from one leg to the other. Placing her left foot on the edge of the bathtub, she moves the showerhead to her knee all the way up her thigh. The warm water stream hitting her centre but the hangover prevents her body from acting the way it normally would and this time she moves it up and cleans her back before connecting it to the wall again to wash her hair.

By the time she makes it to her front door she's awake but that's all that's to be said about her state of mind. Still feeling the effects of her hangover, she can add grumpy to the list now. The latter a result of seeing the last text she sent the night before.

'Bout your plan. Deal.

She isn't sure if she regrets it but she isn't exactly happy about it either. She wishes she could forget it ever happened, at least for a little while. She stuffs her phone in the pocket of her coat and swings the handle of her bag over her shoulder. Opening the door in one big swing the sight in front of her makes forgetting impossible.

"Harvey." Her voice manages to skip a beat in between the two syllables, she quickly pulls the door shut behind her and eyes him. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought I'd pick up my girlfriend."

She absolutely regrets it now.

Her eyes widen and her left-hand juts out to slap his forearm. "Ssssssh," she hisses. "Not so loud."

He bobs his head to the side, double takes the redhead in front of her and questions her behaviour. "Wasn't that the point?"

Her jaw sets and she wants to scream. Instead she finds herself looking around the hallway to make sure no one is actually in earshot. "There's no one here," she reasons, signalling the empty floor with her arm. "No need to pretend now."

She takes a step to the side, avoids his look as she quickly makes her way to the staircase. Only stopping at the edge of the landing she looks over her shoulder in his direction. "Are you coming or what?"

He has to take three large steps to catch up with her, his hand finding her wrist as he stops walking mid floor. His motion and the way he calls out her name making her halt too. He drops her arm as fast as he reached for it, now searching for her gaze he has to pronounce her name one more time before she looks up at him. Her gaze meeting his.

"Are you hung over?"

"No." She scoffs, fakes annoyance. "I woke up with a migraine. That's all." She looks away and continues her descend.

"Ooh no." He calls after her, not believing a word of what she's saying. "Wait," he rushes down the stairs now too, passing her turning around on the landing in front of her, making her stop again. "I know this mood. Practically invented it," he reasons, gazing at her with an intense look. "You agreed to this while you were drunk?" he asks, moving his hand back and forth in between them. "Didn't you?"

She bites down on the side of her cheek, presses her lips together and averts her gaze yet again. Even in her current state, she could detect the tiniest hint of disappointment in his voice and it's making her feel even un easier than she already felt.

"So what if I did," she fires back. "You were high when you came up with this plan. Drunk and high, we'd make a perfect couple."

His jaw sets and if there's one thing he hates its getting mad at her but forcing her to do something she clearly doesn't want is one of the last things he'd do. "If you want out, just say it."

Yes.

It's the first thing her mind screams at her, but her pride and the guilt she already feels tell her the exact opposite. She's a woman of her word, the one that helps her friends in any which way she can. She swallows then, blinks back a tear that's starting to form and turns to look him in the eye.

"I don't want out," she whispers. "It's … It's just a lot."

He lets out a somewhat relieved breath, nods in acknowledgement. "Six feet of this is a lot to handle, I know," he teases her, flashing her his signature grin. Motioning for her to move again with a bob of his head.

She chuckles then, shaking her head and slapping his bicep before she follows him down the stairs. "You're impossible." They have neared the entrance hall when she breaks the silence by mumbling his name and he looks to his right at his best friend. "If we're going to do this, we need a plan."

"A plan?" he repeats.

"Yeah, like a playbook. Rules on how we're going to do this," she explains. "Why don't you come by for pizza tonight and we'll talk it over."

"It's a date."