Harvey was... a little complicated. His feelings and inner workings were not something that many people were privy to. It just wasn't how he operated. Lawyers didn't need feelings to win a case. Just intelligence, grit, and a sharp suit. And effortless flair, in his case, but that couldn't be taught.

Romance, for Harvey, was like second nature. He had standards, obviously, but he tended to pursue whoever he wanted (exempting married women. Too messy.) He had left plenty of dinners with a pretty thing on his arm. His appetite was quite impressive.

But things got complicated when it came to you.

His first love, if Harvey was the type of man to throw sappy phrases like that around. Old Harvard classmates. Constantly butting heads out in the real world. You worked for a rival firm, and.... God, you were at your top form. He'd always liked to watch you tear people limb from limb on the witness stand when they lied and got caught. And with you, with what you had now? They always got caught.

No one knew why you and Harvey disliked each other so much, chalking it up to friendly competition that had soured. Not even Jessica knew. Knew what, someone might ask.

You and Harvey had dated. For a long while. Almost his entire time at Harvard, he was coming back to your arms every night. You were the person- the first and only since his mother - that had gotten to see Harvey Specter break. And then you'd split, suddenly, violently. Harvey got irritated just looking at you. So he'd left in the middle of the night. The two of you hadn't talked properly since then.

He wished he could say you weren't that anymore.

But every time he was outsmarted. Every time he drank just a little too much when the weight of everything was too much to bear. He'd pick up his phone and call the number that was burned into the backs of his eyelids. The number he'd deleted but never been able to forget. Unlabeled. But known.

Tonight was one such night. He was drowning in grief. His mother had just died. He needed something, someone.

Your voice on the line still made him close his eyes and lean into the sound. "...Hey. What are you doing?" His voice was quiet. The way it always was when he pretended things were okay between you.