prompt: “The moon hung large in the sky waiting for their next move.”
They always so say so much to one another, in witty quips exchanged back and forth—they’re so great at that. But what of the things unsaid, the thoughts that are kept hidden—those they’re not so great at. They say everything and not at all.
“I don’t even know why I’m allowing you to invite me back to your place after that god-awful dinner party,” he teased. He slowed down their pace on the sidewalk despite the frigid winter air, clutching the paper bag he was holding tighter.
She pouted, “It wasn’t that bad; you’re clearly over-reacting.”
He looked at her wide eyed, “Donna, that guy friend of yours hit on me! Not to mention the other things that happened.”
Donna sighed, “I thought we’ve agreed to never mention the other things? What was the point of asking me to watch Fight Club with you a hundred times? And like I’ve said, George—ahem, Georgina—I told you he’s confused. He still is. He can’t help that, Harvey. But I mean, no one asked you to reciprocate!”
At this, Harvey halted; he crossed his arms and said, “For the millionth time, I was only trying to be nice. Proper dinner etiquette, hear of any? As the hostess, it was your responsibility to warn a fellow. “He looked at her angrily, grumbling almost incoherently, “But like I said, he was way too convincing!”
Donna rolled her eyes and laughed while looping her arms through his, urging him to keep moving. “Whatever,” she replied. “I thought a man such as yourself, so secure in his masculinity, would’ve gotten over this much sooner.”
“I am over it. I’m over it until you decide to bring it up again.” He saw that she was about to interject, and knowing exactly what she was going to say, “And by asking me to your place, you brought it up,” he finished quickly. “You should move!”
“Buy me a penthouse overlooking Central Park and I will,” she replied, grin from ear to ear. “Now, c’mon and hurry up. It’s really cold!”
They finally reached the door of her apartment and Harvey pulled back a little, hesitating.
“Really? You’re not coming in? All that walking in the cold was for nothing?” Donna questioned. She looked at his face, “Wow, my place really does bother you.”
“Now why does that tone indicate you’ll never leave this place just because of the fact that you see I’m uncomfortable here?” Harvey countered.
Donna held up her arms in defense, “Hey, however you read my tone is your problem. If that’s the way you choose to hear it, I won’t dare stop you.”
They narrowed their eyes at each other. Staring, illuminated only by the light of the moon as it hung so large in the sky waiting for their next move.
The winter chill was biting yet their close proximity radiated unexplainable and comforting warmth, a heat. Donna didn’t understand his hesitation. She knew that the dinner party, awful as it was, wasn’t the whole reason. He’d been weird since Jessica came to talk to him a couple of days ago, he didn’t know it but she’d been listening—she’d always listen to all his private conversations, an intrusion to some, but a normalcy for them. The older woman’s words cracked in the intercom as she held the phone to her ear but she spoke it with unfathomable finality. But yet, they’re so close right now. She could see his eyes sparkle at her, the snow that clung to his hair because he refused to ruin it by wearing a hat, and she could see the thoughts running rampart in his mind reflected on his face. Then he blinked, as she sucked in the cold air—unaware that she’d been holding her breath.
Harvey could barely feel the cold air, a certain scorching heat hung in the air between them, a space currently very little. Harvey can sense that she knew he was hiding something, or was it her hiding something from him? Either way, he couldn’t look away. Harvey could see the playfulness in Donna’s eyes, teasing him; see the specks of her fiery hair poking out from the giant toque, and he could see her: just her mere welcoming presence like a beacon. He wanted nothing more than to grab her, take her in his arms and kiss her. Would she dare stop him then? You have plenty of time to find the right girl, Harvey. Jessica’s words kept ringing in his ear and jarring his thoughts, the intended meaning loud and clear. He blinked, the reality of the cold winter around him setting in…he made up his mind right there and then.
“All right, all right,” Harvey sighed. “I’ll go up. But only because I really want to show you this can opener trick. You’ll never believe it!”
Donna rolled her eyes at him, inserting her key in the front door. “Oh please, I bet you say that to all the girls.”
He looked around the throngs of politicians, clad in gowns and tuxedos, at the party but found no signs of her. He had been looking for about half an hour now with no luck. And although he knows how much she hated these “monkey suit shindigs”—as she referred to them—he never knew how good she was at avoiding them.
Rounding the corner adjacent to the balcony for the third time, he spotted a silhouette outside. Sighing—partly with relief and exhaustion—he opened the double doors to the frigid night air.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked, walking towards the bench where she sat. She had on an elegant white gown that had him speechless the moment he saw her and if it wasn’t for the black wool coat she now wore over it and her charcoal hair, she would’ve blended perfectly with the snow.
She smirked at him and replied, “I don’t know. Looking at the stars, getting some air; there are many clichéd answers to choose from. Plus, they won’t even miss me in there; once I’ve been paraded and introduced, I can pretty much do whatever I want.”
He sat beside her with a sigh. “I missed you in there. I’ve been looking for you for a while,” he replied, choosing to veer away from her less than serious response.
She turned towards him and with the moonlight hitting her face; he thought she never looked more beautiful. Although, he had thought her beautiful the moment he saw her.
“Have you now?” she countered, “And why, pray tell, did you miss me?”
“Well,” he started knowingly with a smile on his face, “Yours is really the only company I like to share. I couldn’t care less about poll results or whose campaign costs more money.”
“Likewise,” she answered, “As I said, I hate politics. Plus, I know you care more about girly gossips and the latest parties anyhow.”
Mask awkward situations with humour—she had taught him that. Apparently, she thought this discussion to be awkward, fine by him; he can be humourous, too.
“Oh, yes,” he nodded his head. “Nothing screams more interesting than who Tina slept with this week or whose party has the better beer.”
“Hey,” she said, pretending to be offended, “Tina does not sleep with everybody and as long as there is beer, then it’s all good.”
He laughed; revealing a set of the most adorable dimples. “You need to smile more often,” she said.
“These,” she stated while poking his dimples, “need to be seen by people more, so they don’t think you’re always so serious.”
“I only smile when I have a reason to, Prentiss,” he said. “Smiling all the time will make me look like a lunatic needing to be locked up.”
“Well, Hotch,” she responded, as he became increasingly aware of how close they were sitting on the bench, “I believe you’re still smiling.”
“That’s because I have a reason to,” he replied as their hands met against the cool surface of the bench.
His gaze shifted from her chocolate brown eyes which were glistening in the moonlight to her perfectly shaped lips. God knows he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to take her in his arms and show her just how strongly he felt about her. But, as with all things in his life, even matters of the heart are ruled by reason.
So, he let her go.
He shifted away and for a second, he believed he saw a flicker of disappointment in her eyes. But it could have been just his hopeful heart playing tricks on him. And as he shifted his gaze towards the sky and away from her, that moment of his life forever turned into one of his many what could’ve been.
- Current Location:purple room
- Current Mood: pensive
- Current Music:James Morrison - Broken Strings
I think I was only six the first time I saw her. She had her blonde hair in pigtails on her head. I thought she looked funny in her pink, flowery dress. So, I pushed her in the mud by the big oak tree.
I was wearing my pink dress that day with big sunflowers drawn at almost every inch of it. I saw him approach me, with his hair like dirt and his eyes like leaves. Next thing I knew, I was in the mud, staring up at the big oak tree.
We’re in the school play together; yet another rendition of Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet. I look up from my place on the stage and pulled the rope to change the scene—she was calling out for her Romeo. She was someone else’s Juliet.
I’ve awaken from the dead—to find the slain Romeo at my side. Quickly I plunge the dagger into the space between my arm and body and the curtains close. The play is over; he opens his eyes and looks into mine—they’re bluer than the ocean and I turn away.
The dance is in a week. Plenty of time left. I saw her walking down the hallway with her blue sweater and khakis—I approached her. “Would you go to the dance with me?” –I hadn’t even opened my mouth yet; figures, someone beat me to it again.
I saw him coming towards me. Flaming red shirt, blue jeans, and glasses—he looked at me expectantly. “Would you go to the dance with me?”—wait, those words didn’t come out of his mouth. I turned, sure enough; someone else has asked me first.
She’s going away—one kiss to her mom and a fierce hug for her dad. She looked up briefly, for me maybe? But it was gone in a heartbeat. She put all of her stuff in a tiny Beetle and headed off down Main Street.
I see him across the street sitting on his porch as I pack up my room and head off towards “finer education”. I kiss my parents goodbye and glanced his way for a nanosecond. I sighed, got into my Beetle and headed off.
It was pure chance by then. A few buddies wanted to drink after work, I was beat and ready to head home. But, one drink…just one, they insisted. We went into an upscale bar with actual lighting and I sat at the corner of the booth. I can see out the door from here—and there she was.
I was walking home from work; groceries in my hand and thinking of ordering in Chinese once I’m in the comfort of my fluffy bunny slippers. I has just walked past a bar when I heard the chime ring as the door swung open. “Hey,” I heard from behind me.
I’m nervous as I rang the buzzer for her apartment. Flowers in hand, check. Hair combed neatly, check. Shirt tucked in, check. Breath…haaahh, check. “Come on up,” I hear. And truly, the pounding of my heart drowned out each step up the creaky stairway.
It took me just about ten hours to find the right dress. Then, I hear the buzzer. My voice shakes as I tell him to come on up. I opened the door and come face to face with a bouquet.
It’s the third time she’s sat across from me at a fancy dinner table. I watch her as she tells me a story about her school…I share my own. We reminisce. It’s nice. Who am I kidding? I’m having the time of my life.
He takes my hand as we exit the restaurant. It’s a nice night and he suggested he walked me home. We talk about everything and nothing. I can’t help but think that sometimes, it is the simplest things that count the most. I squeeze his hand and smile.
We’re at her door. She looks so beautiful. She always has. I grab hold of both of her hands and close the distance between our lips. It was magical.
He grabbed my hands and leaned towards me. I find myself closing my eyes as our lips touched and my right leg “popped”. Fireworks!
She can’t cook. Her singing voice sounds like scratching on a school board. And for some reason, she can’t put her clothes in the hamper. But I’ve never seen anything more beautiful when I open my eyes in the morning than seeing her there.
He knows I can’t cook. Singing, please…people pay me not to do that. I’m messy and disorganized. Yet, each morning when I wake up, he never fails to be staring back with so much love in his eyes.
I’m standing by the big oak tree in a scratchy and stuffy suit. I see her walk towards me…a vision in white. I feel tears dampen my eyes as I think, “This is it, finally.” I do.
I see him waiting up there for me, shaded by the big oak tree. He grabs hold of my hands and I stare up at his adoring eyes and can’t help but think, “This is it, finally.” I do.
- Current Location:purple room
- Current Mood: artistic
- Current Music:Sara Barailles - Love Song