The sharp, unforgiving edge of the bar counter digs painfully into your cheek as your face is forcibly slammed against its cold, hard surface. A surge of adrenaline rushes through you, but it’s too late - the firm, unrelenting grip of a hand presses your head down, pinning you in place. The room spins for a moment, but your mind clears just enough to register the situation. You let your guard down, left an opening you shouldn’t have.

And he took that chance.

"Got'cha," Harvey growled, his voice a low, menacing rumble that vibrated in the hollow of your ear as he leaned in close. You could feel the heat of his breath against your skin, mingling with the warmth of his body as he pressed it deliberately against yours, locking you in place. Every inch of him was intent, focused on keeping you pinned down, making escape impossible. He wasn't going to waste this chance now that he'd finally got it. Revenge was good for the soul. Or, good for Harvey's soul specifically.