Chapter Text
There were moments when your insecurities took over, and you found yourself asking him while he was fucking you if he would ever tire of the same body every night.
He would pause inside of you, his eyes bore into your own, and he would answer, no.
No, he wouldn't.
You weren't sure if he was trying to reassure you or himself.
The second time, he answered you as he took his time, and his movements were slow and tender. He was a different man in those moments.
The third time, he was so desperate for you that he almost didn't have the chance to answer; he was so distracted with trying to be inside you again.
You would have asked again, but he had pulled you to him, his lips kissing yours and his arms around your body, keeping you safe, either avoiding the question or comforting you.
———————-
You were getting ready for the wedding, and you couldn't help but remember those nights with Harvey as a shaky reminder of what you were both about to do.
The grand hall of the Waldorf Astoria was a chaos of last-minute preparations. Florists darted about, making final adjustments to bouquets, while caterers set up an opulent spread that screamed old-money elegance. Guests in their best evening attire trickled in, excited to celebrate the love of their close friends. But inside the bride's suite, the atmosphere was anything but celebratory.
You stood before a full-length mirror, your reflection a pristine vision in white lace and satin. Yet, your hands shook as you fussed with the delicate veil, betraying the storm inside your mind. Doubts crashed over you. Was this truly what Harvey wanted? The man who treated vulnerability like a disease—could he be ready for something as permanent as marriage?
Your Maid of Honor sauntered over, her sharp eyes missing nothing. Donna placed a firm hand on your shoulder. "Alright, spill. What's rattling around in that pretty head of yours?"
You bit your lip, struggling to keep your composure. "Donna, what if... what if he's only doing this because he thinks it's what I want? What if he doesn't really want this?"
Donna's gaze softened, "You know Harvey. He doesn't do anything he doesn't want to. But if it'll put your mind at ease, I'll drag him in here myself. He loves you so much."
You nodded, feeling a knot of gratitude and anxiety twist in your stomach. Donna squeezed your hand reassuringly before striding out with purpose.
————————
Harvey stood still, his reflection in the mirror embodying perfect composure. He had anticipated the usual jitters and nagging doubts from this life-altering moment. Instead, an unsettling calm enveloped him, a peaceful tide. This was uncharted territory for him, and this is how he knew he was sure this is why he was making the right choice.
A sharp knock at the door. Harvey's breath hitched. "Who is it?"
The door burst open, and Donna stood in the doorway. Her maid-of-honor dress didn't soften the concern and fury in her eyes.
"Harvey," she said, her voice low and urgent. "We need to talk. Now."
His gaze flickered between Donna and the mirror. "Can this wait?" he managed. "I'm kind of in the middle of something here."
Donna arched her eyebrow. "Trust me, Harvey, this can't wait. We've got a situation."
A flicker of irritation crossed his face, quickly replaced by curiosity. "Define 'situation'," he replied.
Donna's expression hardened. "Your bride is contemplating a runaway. Move it. Now."
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Harvey's face, a carefully constructed facade of confidence, cracked. Without a word, he was out the door, Donna right behind him. The corridor stretched out before them, an endless expanse of white carpet and pink and gold accents. Silence stretched between them, heavy and oppressive.
Thoughts of abandonment clawed at him, the image of you leaving him at the altar playing on a loop. Panic surged, tightening its grip around his chest.
What if she changed her mind? What if she couldn't bear the weight of this commitment?
Each step felt like a mile, the distance between hope and despair widening with every heartbeat.
He glanced at Donna, her expression unreadable, but he could sense the concern radiating off her.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
He had fought for this moment against every instinct that told him to run. Now, the very idea of losing you felt like a betrayal of everything he had worked to build.
"Harvey?" Donna finally broke the silence, her voice a gentle nudge against his spiraling thoughts. "Are you okay?"
He gave a nod, even as the truth seemed it was swallowing him. "Yeah, I just… I need a minute." He stepped to the side, trying to steady his racing heart.
What if you were waiting for him, ready to walk away?
The weight of uncertainty pressed down on him, and for the first time, his confidence felt like a fragile mask.
Would he be able to face you if you chose to leave?
The thought was unbearable. He had to find a way to pull himself together—because losing you was not an option he could accept.
He stood beside the door, knocking softly. His back was to the door while you faced it, speaking through the solid barrier. Only doubt lay between you. Harvey broke when he heard the anxiety in your voice. He reached out, sliding his hand through the narrow gap beside the door, and gently squeezed yours.
"You're not supposed to see the bride before the wedding, Harvey."
"Since when have you been into doing anything traditional?" He laughs, trying to break the tension.
"Harvey," you began, your voice shaky. "I'm scared. What if this isn't really what you want? Marriage, the future—it's all so... permanent."
"Are you kidding me?" he said, voice low and intense. "You think I'd be here if I wasn't sure?"
He rubbed his thumb over your hand." I've spent years dodging anything that looked like commitment. But you? You changed everything. You changed me. This isn't about doing what you want or what I think you want. It's about us."
He gripped your hand. "I want this. I want you. Not because it's easy or convenient but because it's real. And, yeah, it scares the hell out of me, too, but I'm not backing down."
Tears pricked your eyes, but they were from relief. "You really mean that?"
"You're all I'll ever want. Now you tell me, do you want this?"
"More than anything, Harvey."
You both waited a few minutes, letting the emotions subside, letting the weight of the moment take hold.
"Then we're getting married today." You could feel the tears in his voice.
You couldn't help but smile, the excitement bubbling in your chest.
————————
When the ceremony started, your hands were sweaty. Your stomach was in knots.
And then you saw him.
He always looked handsome, but today, he was devastating. And he was yours.
His eyes were locked and you forgot everything else. You forgot about how your life would change. You forgot about your fears. You forgot everything but him.
————————
At the reception, the air was filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and the quiet of conversations. You and Harvey made your rounds, greeting guests and basking in the warmth of their well-wishes. When the band played a slow song, Harvey took your hand, leading you to the dance floor.
"You look beautiful," he murmured, pulling you close.
You smiled, resting your head against his chest. "And you look ridiculously handsome. As always."
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through you. "Guess we're stuck with each other now."
"A tragedy."
His arm tightened around you, and he kissed the top of your head.
He leaned in, his rich baritone voice vibrating in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
"I've waited my whole life for this moment, to hold you like this,' he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "I can't wait to take you home as my wife."
"Thank you," you said softly, your fingers tracing his jaw line.
"For what?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.
"For being you. For showing up. For believing in us."
He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. "Always."
———————
At one point, Mike took the mic to deliver a toast.
"Here's to Harvey and his obsession with perfection," Mike said, raising his glass. "May he finally realize that he found it in you."