round one prompt post - CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS
ROUND ONE IS CURRENTLY CLOSED TO PROMPTS. ANY PROMPT POSTED HERE FROM NOW ON WILL BE DELETED.
New rounds will open at suits_meme.
Round One is officially closed. Round Two will open on Wednesday morning. Feel free to continue posting fills.
Refer to the Rules before posting a prompt.
Direct any of your concerns to the Mod Post.
I'll be archiving prompts (both ( Read more... )
New rounds will open at suits_meme.
Round One is officially closed. Round Two will open on Wednesday morning. Feel free to continue posting fills.
Refer to the Rules before posting a prompt.
Direct any of your concerns to the Mod Post.
I'll be archiving prompts (both ( Read more... )
“So I chose to believe that was your way of telling me this was something you could handle without my help,” Harvey’s voice is so steady and close that Mike imagines he’s as near to the door as Mike is. “I was still worried enough to put a PI on you, but I rationalized that as long as you didn’t want to tell me the truth, there was nothing more I could do. But, Mike-”
The way he exhales Mike’s name makes Mike draw a sharp breath and hold it, because no one has ever spoken his name like this before.
“What I didn’t realize,” Harvey continues, “is that you’re so good at what you do that sometimes it just doesn’t cross my mind that you’re-that there are some things I shouldn’t expect you to figure out on your own.”
Mike wipes the back of his hand over his eyes. He stays where he is, his ear pressed to the wooden surface, and he tries to imagine Harvey on the other side, talking to the door.
“And sometimes I also forget,” Harvey’s voice becomes even quieter, although the shape of his words are still low and clear through the door. “Sometimes I forget that it’s not just my job to know what’s going on with you, but also...”
Harvey’s voice trails off, and Mike can’t believe he’s actually listening to Harvey Specter falter. And Mike can hear the regret in his tone, heavy and dense like fog.
“It’s also my job to protect you, Mike,” Harvey finally says, quietly. “And I didn’t do that.”
Mike feels a lump in his throat; he tries to swallow past it to say something, but no words come out. Harvey doesn’t speak, and Mike doesn’t speak, and the silence stretches between them like emptiness, like an infinity. Mike closes his eyes and aches, because he knows that part of him just wants to be left alone, to never let anyone close enough to hurt him like this again-but another part of him just so badly wants to feel Harvey’s touch right now.
Mike musters every ounce of strength to pull himself to his feet. He rests his forehead against the smooth wooden surface for a long time before he reaches out, unlocks the door, and turns the knob.
He pulls the door open and stops when he sees Harvey standing there, right in front of the doorway. He sees the two lines of worry knitted between Harvey’s brows, the way he has rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, and how a few strands of his hair have come loose, probably from Harvey threading his fingers through them without even thinking.
And when Mike finally dares to look into Harvey’s eyes, he feels a sharp hitch in his chest.
Because Mike doesn’t see pity there; he doesn’t see disappointment, not even the slightest trace that could even remotely be interpreted as such. A troubled expression clouds Harvey’s eyes, and he seems almost pained-but most of all Harvey looks lost, as if this is something he so badly wants to fix but doesn’t know how to, and it’s tearing him up inside.
“Harvey,” Mike whispers, his voice soft and broken, and he feels the prickle at the backs of his eyes again.
Harvey wordlessly steps forward and puts his arms around Mike, enveloping him in a careful, warm embrace. Mike wraps his arms around Harvey and presses his cheek against his shoulder. The silent tears leak and soak into the soft fabric of Harvey’s shirt, and Mike exhales and closes his eyes again-only this time the darkness is a little, just a little lighter than before.
When Mike finally pulls back, Harvey releases him. Mike sniffles and ducks his head; it has become a reflex in the past weeks, to shy away from attention, from anyone who might look too closely and see the bruises, visible or unseen.
Harvey takes a step back but doesn’t move away. Instead he puts his hands on either side of Mike’s face and tilts his chin up gently so Mike has to meet his gaze. Harvey’s thumbs brush the wet corners of Mike’s eyes, wiping away the tears, and then he just looks at him-and although Harvey doesn’t speak a single word, Mike feels as if Harvey is silently making him some kind of promise with his eyes, a promise that everything will be okay, that Harvey is going to make sure of it.
And with every fiber of his damaged soul, Mike believes him.
[tbc]
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but what ARE the two guys doing in the background??
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MY CRAYS T_____T miiiiikeeee!!!!
*clings*
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Group hug guys!!!!
I know everyones saying poor Mike but OMG Poor MIKE! And Harvey too!
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I can't wait for more! This is just great!
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I totally didn't notice.
failsuccess?
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Can't wait to see how this plays out :D
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