Chapter Text
NOVEMBER 15TH — 17:33
“Good call,” Harvey steps out from the expensive vehicle, deeming his presence inside it unworthy, possibly needing to pay for the warm air blasting through its vents. Music spanned from smooth jazz to blues, the eventual heavy metal which differed from his usual calm tunes, somewhat scaring him because never in his life had he ever listened to such awful melodies and scary fry screaming. It also didn’t help that the volume was only a few levels low of reaching a hundred. “It’s almost six.”
Extending a garnet-coloured umbrella above both their heads to shade each individual from the heavy rain, Eris unconsciously pulls a hesitant Harvey close to her left side, available hand curling her fingers around his own, thumb brushing over the pink of his tense knuckles to then squeeze tightly for reassurance once noticing his flushed cheeks. “Alright, toots, as much as you dislike the idea—we gotta act the part of a happy husband and wife. Hand holding, cheek kisses, .. .. uh,” she trails off, looking off towards the side pensively, “¿What other lovey-dovey shit do couples do? Enlighten me, divorcee.” Nudging his ribs with her elbow, she smiles willingly at the other wealthy men and women walking up the marble steps of the tall building, some familiar faces skimming over the ‘newly’ wedded couple.
Harvey so graciously takes in the heavenly sights of the restaurant, big, bold letters spelling out the title ‘ROTTEN APPLE’ which immediately captured his interest, arching a brow towards the woman beside side-eyeing him tentatively. High pillars holding up an extended balcony made up of entirely see-through glass with intricate details panned out. Precise circular tables already filled with different societies of people, scared of how much money he would need to spend to be able to even breathe the air in, much less the food he would be eating. Wondering if the mere necklaces being worn by clashing females and the watches of wealthy men would be able to cover his car’s insurance. That was an assured yes. Perhaps he could lie to Eris and simply explain he wasn’t all that hungry, just a salad would do enough to fill his barren stomach.
Coughing into his elbow, he hummed, “Well, uhm-uh .. what Eun-Mi and I would do in public was exactly that. I can’t exactly speak for everyone though,” inspecting the way her hand clung awkwardly to his, there was some certain part of him which found this side of Eris a bit adorable, to say the least. Not that he had known her long enough to perceive her wits. Although, he would never admit the notion aloud in fear of how she would react. A little bit of hinted sadness, too, considering she might’ve never had the opportunity to truly experience genuine love due to always working and actively taking care of her employees. He continued, “Some people enjoy displaying their affections in public to mark territory, .. I guess; while others mostly just stick to showing love at home because they don’t like being seen as vulnerable with other unfamiliar people around,” he gazes up at her silently, intentions of complimenting her makeup and the way she walked so confidently with a puff of air swelling her chest. Harvey had never once allowed himself to think these thoughts of women other than his wife, but considering she was no longer his, he felt it in his heart that, maybe, he would permit himself to lovingly share his thoughts with his inner monologue. “¿Which one’s your pick?”
Placing a finger to her chin, after a while, she bends down an inch or so and presses a long kiss to his right cheek, leaving behind a mark of her burgundy lipstick. “¿There’s nothing wrong with trying out something new, is there?,” Pushing behind a curly strand, she hummed quietly to herself, making sure to wink down towards a flustered Harvey unable to withstand the affection. “Funny fact about me is I’ve never had a serious relationship,” her voice drops an octave or so, fingers clenching around the handle of the umbrella discreetly. Somehow, somewhat, Harvey could distinctly make out what seemed to be embarrassment etching her features looking off towards the many couples laughing together. “Anyways, forget I said that. I just .. I don’t know how to act in a relationship, so I’d appreciate it if you taught me.” Her uncertain look is replaced by a soft smile and half-lidded eyes, then turning to nod towards the familiar hostess immediately bowing towards both individuals with eager respect, two menus already in her arms.
“Miss Valentine! What a great pleasure it is to see you here, it’s been … uh-quite some time since I’ve last seen you,” the woman was petite and quite peculiar about the manner in which she presented herself, wearing what appeared to be the restaurant’s uniform of bell-bottomed ink black slacks and a fitted vest atop a cerulean button-up. Flittering lashes, brown waves, and pouty lips; the name tag ‘Esther’ sat poised on her right breast pocket. Emerald green eyes brimming with absolute joy at recognizing Madame Rare amongst the other members wishing to enter the restaurant, almost seeming to bounce in her mere presence if she was allowed to, though sticking to her work composure. “Sir Sirius would be delighted to have you sit in his VIP section instead of your usual table—says he’s missed you dearly and would like to go over some projects regarding the business, as he’s been unable to reach you.” An underlying hint of something adjacent to what Harvey was used to, he made sure to daze off towards the cold air hitting his skin as if there was nothing amiss what she might’ve been referring to.
Eris smirks knowingly down at the beaming girl, before shaking her head in disagreement, pinching her cheek teasingly, “Tell Sirius I’ll be glad to speak about such things some other time,” beckoning towards Harvey, she cocks her head towards the side all the while handing the hostess the wet umbrella to set aside, using the same hand to pat his tense forearm, leaving it there to rest encouragingly. Harvey gazes up to smile warmly at the young girl after a nudge, though she isn’t much welcoming to him as she’d been towards his companion. Coercing a smile, she nods in return, instead focusing all her attention back to the businesswoman, tight jaw and flared nostrils having him shrink back into himself to hopefully disappear from view—surely, she must be judging his appearance and how odd it was to have such a known, beautiful woman on his arm. “But, right now, I have a date that doesn’t need to be interrupted, Esther.” Fundamentally speaking with an obvious slick of hidden superiority which, by all means, worked, made the female worker flinch backwards.
“Of course, Miss Valentine.” Esther nods diligently, though he swears that she had sent him a fierce glare through her glasses when she thought he hadn’t been looking. He didn’t understand whether out of jealousy, spite or suspicion, all he knew at the moment was the certain fact he didn’t like her, nor did she appear to like him either.
Blackstone surface engraved with streaks of real gold whilst simultaneously being hidden behind some framed pictures lining the curving walls, Harvey follows blindly as the hostess leads them both upstairs. Recognizing many of the photos included in the woman beside him, some old ones representing her at her youth whilst others seemed much more recent; others merely just scenery of the night sky from the view above the highest floor to captured shots of different patrons enjoying the restaurant’s live band, drinks in hand. He counted fifty-seven steps before finally reaching the second floor, wondering if such a lavish place such as this had an elevator instead of having to climb so many stairs. Glancing towards Eris, she didn’t seem much affected by the long walk, long ago having let go of his hand as to not trip over herself nor him—patting him smoothly on his shoulder to catch his attention, the kind set of gray irises silently skimming his state over—even though she had been wearing six-inch heels that curved her sole upwards in noticeable discomfort, perhaps probably more used to this than he’d initially imagined.
The second floor consists of a stage off to the far middle of the entire floor, slow jazz mixing a pretty rhythm which had many people dancing amongst the spacious floor. All tables as far as his single eye could see were all full, exempt to that of a table with seats opposite to each other on a balcony separate to the other three large ones on each side of the balcony. Walking closer, he noticed the detailed curves and swirls of the carmine cloth covering the squared table, a glass vase housing a single tulip on the far side as two plates sat on each adjacent side. Eris sat on one side whilst Harvey chose the other, sending one last final smile to the exiting hostess who didn’t return it.
Eris notices the look on Harvey’s face, tossing him a napkin to wipe the obvious smudge of red on his cheek. Though he remained unsure on whether or not he wanted it to be erased, clutching the cloth in his hand. “¿What’s her deal?” He finally asks after a moment of silence, biting the inside of his cheek with blatant annoyance to have been disrespected when he didn’t even know the girl, unable to stare the woman in her eyes.
Interlocking her fingers together under her chin, she hums whilst arching a high intuitive brow, taking a sip from the prepared champagne in the iced bucket. “¿Jealous, toots?,” She adores the way his cheeks tint a shade of strong pink, “Kidding, lovely. Well, let’s see. Esther used to be a client of mine back when I first started out the business, along with Sirius, who is now her boss. This was fifteen years ago, mind you. One thing led to the other, a fling I kept at arm’s length—she wanted more than I offered and pulled a ring out on me, which I declined,” a roll of her eyes makes Harvey smile, though he quickly drops it to nod along in favor, “ever since then, she’s turned into a slight stalker of sorts who knows not to interfere with my daily life.” Blowing a raspberry with her lips, she takes another long drag of the alcohol, watching it swirl around inside the glass cup.
“She looks too young, though.” He comments.
“Genetics, she calls it,” she shrugs nonchalantly, noticing the clear judgment, “she’s thirty-four, for your information. I’m not some cougar who likes the thrill of fucking younger girls, even if they insist, nor do I enjoy their attention,” eyeing him down, she smirks, “I like experienced people, Harvey. ¿Tell me, are you experienced?”
At that, he coughs out the sliver of champagne back onto the napkin she’d handed him earlier, along with some dyed phlegm which’d caused his blood to rush to his nerves out of sheer shame, hitting his chest lightly to help the strong burning in his throat. “¿Uh-what .. wha-what do you .. uh-mean by that?” He can’t help the crack in his voice, reverting him back to his young teenage years when puberty had hit him late. He swears on everything holy that her smirk only deepens at the manner in which he responds so cautiously innocently, feeling the smooth leather of her toebox raising the hem of his trousers upwards, reaching just a touch below his knee, heart hammering inside his chest, fingers, ears; his abdomen coiling into a sailor’s knot once she’d managed to reach past his thigh.
Unable—or unwanting— to move.
“Well, sweetie,” she purrs softly, finger curling to beckon him forward until he could smell the sweet alcohol in her breath, swallowing a lump in his throat. “I’m talking about your alcohol tolerance, of course!,” Harvey feels himself able to breathe once again, though he’s still a bit warm under his pants. “The wine here is absolutely divine, which I am, by no means, biased by considering I’m the one who had it directly imported from the finest breweries of Italy. If you’re a big fan of whiskey or brandy, I recommend ordering the Brandy Sour or Manhattan Cocktail,” she hums and trails off, gaze turning to look over the city underneath, “though, I don’t know what you’re into, toots.” Playing with her handkerchief in her lap, she distracts herself by attempting to make a dove out of the large cloth.
He laughs awkwardly, “I like .. uh, it’s a bit more boring … but I like classic margaritas.” The hem of his trousers pool back around his ankle, following the woman’s gaze to take in the gorgeous view of the many lights flashing amongst the grand city, the honks of nearby cars and the laughter of people above and below. Since he’d never really had the opportunity to truly take his time to appreciate the beauty of the town he lived in, mostly dedicated to his chores at home or tending to the family, which he didn’t have either of anymore, he felt a bit of awe at how genuinely beautiful the atmosphere looked from here. Wishing this day would never come to an end. The cool air brushed his cheeks softly, inhaling the fresh wind that swept past as if he’d never done it before, tasting the sweet smell of it all.
Hearing the clink of the glass cup hitting the table’s surface, “I’m not a margarita person myself, but I’ll have it every once in a while,” skimming over her polished nails, she gestures towards the bar on the other side of the room being handled by one single female clad in leather and the most reddest hair he’d ever seen on anyone. “Girl behind the counter is an old employee of mine from several years ago; graduated top of her class at bartending and received her certification in less than a day. Got her this job afterwards and it’s been her lifeline ever since. ‘Says she wouldn’t have it any other way,” a smile graces her features whilst gazing at the pretty girl, who’s much too enthralled by the mixing of the liquor and chatting happily with some of the customers sat at the bar. “¿Let’s stop by after? I’m sure she’d be happy to mix up something new for us.”
Although he hadn’t known the woman long, he could evidently make out how much time and appreciation she’d put into taking care of all the children under her roof. Much more with sincere love and affection, something he could only dream of having. From the first day he had gone by, he recalled not one single child presenting any sign of neglect—instead the opposite. All the boys and girls seemed sworn to protect and respect Eris even if she wasn’t there to witness it, stemming from possibly the act of receiving enough support and attention from someone who’s happy to give and not expect anything in return. There was a select few of teenagers and toddlers who, he recalled, sat at a comfortable couch, watching old cartoons on a large television screen with expensive snacks and branded drinks by their sides, without a care in their eyes. Perhaps not all were in the business, simply there to be close to Eris and her warmth.
Turning to stare at Eris who’d been lightly sipping at her emptying glass cup. “Uhm, I just wanted .. to-to say … uh-Eris, I—”
“Hello, good afternoon, Miss Valentine! Haven’t been graced by your presence in quite the while, corazón! I was starting to think I’d done something wrong,” interrupted by the tall figure of a handsome man placing down two menus on the table, Harvey can’t help but nudge his lower lip into a petty pout at having been so brutally interrupted. Instead choosing to flick through the two pages of the thin menu, wondering if the ten things to order from were truly all there was to the restaurant. “I see you’ve brought in an attractive man, too. Gosh, Esther was just blowing smoke through her ears when she told me, and of course I had to believe that someone like you could only ever present us the most cutest companions.” He smiles down at Harvey with a beknownst wink, hesitant hand coming to cradle his tense shoulder before pulling away once noting the man’s reluctant gaze.
“Bell, my love! It’s been too long,” standing up to press a kiss to his cheek, Harvey can’t help but deepen his pout, tracing a finger over where she’d kissed him, too. “Y’know I’ve been busy and all, taking care of my children isn’t all rainbows and puppies, but I do enjoy it,” sitting back down at her seat, she motions towards the man opposite to hers with her eyes, “here on strict business, but I figured I might stay around longer to chat with Cher if Harvey here doesn’t mind accompanying me.” There’s this slight hopeful look which makes her irises gleam a bit more than usual, and he can’t help but nod eagerly at the indirect request.
“I wouldn’t mind.”
“Then, it’s settled! ¿Your usual, Miss Valentine?”
Eris skims over the menu, “Yes, dear. ¿What about you, toots?”
Harvey pinches his lips together gently and scans the options one last time before smiling up towards the awaiting server, “Well done ribeye for me, with a side of potato soup, minus the cheese, please,” hand on his stomach, he chuckles awkwardly, “lactose intolerant! ‘Can’t eat anything dairy, unfortunately!” He settled on a simple steak and side, calculating the possible total of under a hundred dollars, enough to cover both his side of the bill as well as Eris’ order. Praying the champagne they were drinking wasn’t the expensive type.
Bell, the server, nods his head eagerly, seeming to jot it down inside his mind. “I’ll make sure to ask Cook Morty to not put any butter on the steak either, then! Caesar salad and beef ravioli will be out in just a couple of minutes, folks. Be back in a jiffy, mis amores!” Sauntering back over to tend to some other tables awaiting his service, Harvey looks back towards the woman just as she’d managed to finish inspecting the area clean of any lingering eavesdroppers, deeming their space safe.
From under her napkin settled on the table, she slides a paper thin envelope across the table to him, teetering eyes signaling him to quickly take the package before any other guest could see. “¿What’s in it?,” Whispering just an octave above to where she could hear him, her face crumbled to a blank expression a moment or so before recollecting her composure and simply pointing down at the supposed documents. Like a secret agent sent from across the world for a mission, his chest fluttered with strange excitement. With an intuitive brow, Harvey unwraps the string keeping the envelope closed before laying out the contents. Screen captures, basic information, leaked documents, and other sorts of details he was sure to read on later spread out on the table, before quickly ushering back up all the contents back into the envelope. Scanning over one single photo which’d stuck behind ironically. “This is.. he’s—”
“The kid isn’t all that smart to begin with. His phone has gotten viruses about a thousand times before by searching online porn from pirated and illegal sites. So, when Blot decided to plant in a simple seed into his device to check on his activities, it didn’t take all that long to be able to discover his daily routines. What cheap apartment he lives in, how many girlfriends he’s had in the past, down to what color underwear he wears,” a hint of hidden amusement hides behind that silly smile of hers, but she waves it off before finally settling down her champagne onto the table. “Name’s Scott Kook, twenty-three years old, works in car insurance. But, I figured you already knew all that from the court cases. This ain’t his first rodeo. Kook was charged last year with breaking and entering a family home where he battered a minor attempting to hide his little sister in the closet—that trial is still pending for some reason. My sources say they’ve got evidence stacked up against him, but .. not my problem to help solve,” sighing, she takes another sip of the alcohol, as if soothing her vocal cords with the contents. “Years before, he served only two years probation for sexual misconduct with a child under thirteen. ‘Didn’t take him long to do it again, though. I don’t know how in the fuck he’s gotten away with so much shit, but I can’t see our police department helping much either way. ‘Point is, the justice system isn’t going to do squat. That’s where gals like me step in to help people like you, who’ve been victim to wannabe thugs intending to make a name for themselves out in the streets by presenting themselves as big, strong foes.” Flexing her bicep to prove a point, Harvey isn’t able to muffle the loud giggle which exits his lips at the demonstration. Only waving a dismissive hand to apologize for his behavior, all the while his lips twitched in an attempt to smile further.
He muffles a chuckle, “Sorry, sorry, please .. go on.”
Stifling her own smile, Eris poured herself more champagne from the emptying bottle on the side, and he swears he could see her swaying side to side every passing second. “Well, there isn’t much left to do but plan his departure. It won’t be tricky at all, I’ve dealt with situations like these beforehand,” she shrugs as if the whole ordeal was just another normal Saturday afternoon, lightly burping into her fisted hand. “Not to brag, but I say he’ll probably be sitting chained in our cold basement by next week. All that’s left to do now is wait for documentation to be sent through the airlines,” Harvey cocks a questionable brow, and she sighs as if exasperated by his foolishness. “Toots, if he suddenly vanishes from the world only months after the trial has started, all fingers will be immediately pointed at you—the victim of a crime he committed. Motive is the prime evidence they’ll use to interrogate you and I doubt a sweetheart like you is capable of lying without acting suspicious all the while.”
“I’m more than capable of lying to officials if it’s truly asked of me!,” With a stare of her eyes skimming him with slight judgment hidden underneath her lenses, he scratches an itch on his cheek and laughs awkwardly. “Okay then, no lying. Got it.”
Huffing, Eris continues. “As I was saying, if he suddenly disappears, this will spark rumors that you had something to do with his sudden disappearance and making you out to be the bad guy seeking revenge. You’ve nothing to worry about, sweetheart, since I’ll be handling all that. He’s housed in jail, at the moment, but I have some inside intel from the county he’s in. He’ll be helped out by some of my guys who’ll use the tactic of being good samaritans merely helping out a fellow innocent inmate who's being wrongfully accused—using that to my advantage, I already have someone acting out the part of assuming his identity once he ‘escapes’ jail,” emphasizing the word, she presents a sickly smile, one which has shivers scaling down each individual joint on Harvey’s spine. “As he successfully flees, we’ll be there to pick him up from the outside. Guards will be notified of his escape, as will his lawyers and the court, and that’ll be on record. Law enforcement will look for him, but, since that’s out of their jurisdiction, we’ll have no problems any more since he’ll be, technically, AWOL. Finally, you, Harvey dear, will simply be the poor, traumatized victim who’s had his luck run out by this perpetrator evading justice,” chugging down the last few drops of the strawberry-flavored champagne, she exhales harshly before lazily gazing at the man sitting across from her, pointing a black, acrylic, sharp nail at him, “¿Just sit there and keep looking pretty for me, alright? You’ll get your revenge soon enough.” A hiccup, then another; Harvey recognizes the clear difference of the dignified woman from before now nuzzling into the warmth of her arms as the cold wind ushered on, high cheekbones dusted in harsh vermillion red as glassy eyes skimmed him over hungrily.
Blushing, his hand is placed on his chest as if that would somehow calm the strong beating of his heart. “¿Pretty—me?”
Albeit, he was more than sure that the alcohol in her system was speaking for her, there was a hint of hope which carved a place inside his heart at the mention. Not once had she expressed the displeasure of being seen with him in public, and even marked him with her lipstick before being blatantly disrespected by the envious hostess who was then assured to have been jealous at the situation afterwards. Something he would cherish to wish that Eris did out of her own volition, not just to spite the bitter girl.
He gazed down towards his fiddling fingers, readily thinking of just how this plan would be put into action, and just how easily it’d been explained to him like any other topic of conversation. It’s unlikely anything bad would occur, thoroughly flickering through their conversation anxiously so he wouldn’t miss out any important detail. Madame Rare seemed calm about the situation, and she clearly stated how she’d managed this type of work before, so he assured himself to lay all his trust on this single woman. As such, something about finally having the proposition set out in front of him with transparent instructions guiding him through it all, he doesn’t exactly consider his own feelings about the matter until he’s looking at the picture of the man who’d acted out of pure greed and tortured him. Reminding himself that this perpetrator was and still deserves what’s eagerly coming to him; his karma. Sure, Harvey would be stooping down to his level, that with jotting down exactly what sorts of acts he’s intending to commit—the recollection of efforts to searching up torture methods through old books at the library, but wasn’t strong enough to stomach the gore. Unsure of himself when the time came to actually commit these heinous acts, Harvey Harvington doesn’t have anything to worry about if Eris would be at his side to guide him through, and that was the only thing he was sure about.
A lopsided grin takes grace upon her plump lips, half-lidded eyes raking their gaze over what little of his body protruded through the custom tux. Only wishing to see what more was underneath than what she’d initially skimmed over before at his home, but initially scolded herself for thinking such things about her client. “Shush, lovely, appetizers are coming,” as if on cue, the waiter she called ‘Bell’ proceeded to intrude in with two large plates balanced on either of his hands. This big, hefty smile that made Harvey uncomfortable, setting down the first course of their entire dish. “As quick as ever, Bell. Tell Cook Morty I’ll swing by to catch up with her later, too.”
“Alright, darling. I’ll also make sure to bring more champagne,” hand on his hip, Bell motions towards the food, “provechito, mis amores!”
The food smelled wonderful, much to Harvey’s delight. Unwilling or, more so, unable to eat anything other than microwaved canned soup at home had taken quite the toll on his appetite. Decreasing it greatly. Thinking about how one single bite might as well fill his stomach entirely, he didn’t wish for all of this good food to go to waste, scolding himself for ordering so much. Picking up the large tweezers to pour some salad onto Eris’ plate, then filling his own with about the tiniest amount that wouldn’t concern anyone. His lip twitched slightly, just the right amount which made the woman across from him arch an eyebrow towards his reluctance.
It wasn’t her place to pry, but she couldn’t help herself. “¿What’s wrong, you don’t like salad? We could order something else, if you’d like,” there was still the slightest hint of alcohol laced in her voice, but Harvey could also tell apart the tone of concern. Casting it aside because surely, he must’ve been hearing things. “I can call Bell back to ord—”
“No! No, uh-sorry. So-Sorry for yelling, I—. Sorry, I just-,” picking up the fork on his side, he pierced through a flap of fresh lettuce coated in bittersweet sauce, “it looks so good—the food. I can’t possibly eat it.” He swallows thickly, chewing on the vegetable slowly.
Understanding the situation much faster than she’d liked to, the woman stands from her place on the opposite side of the table to settle the chair towards his left, placing a reassuring hand on his thigh. “¿How long have you gone on like this? Your trial started approximately six months ago, but there was still three months prior to gathering evidence and hiring lawyers and all that jazz. ¿So, I’m thinking—a year?,” Harvey’s stomach coils harshly, feeling his chest turn suddenly freezing cold, feeling an anxious shudder down his spine as he stares at the appetizer on the plate. “Earlier today, I could tell the obvious weight loss. At first, I imagined it being mere muscle loss due to not being able to exercise as much as it looked like before everything occurred, but this confirms my suspicions.” The hand on his thigh trails up to his wrist, devoid of its hand, fingertips tenderly trailing the healed stitches.
He doesn’t look at her, instead peers towards the other clients inside the area. Just hoping they weren’t looking. “¿Wha-What .. What are you talking about?”
Inhaling sharply, Eris leans back against her chair. “It’s okay if you don’t want to admit it, sweetheart. Not to me, not to anyone. You don’t have to,” pressing her lips together, the alcohol in her system is suddenly gone, and all her attention is placed on him. “¿Is it the fact that you can’t eat because of your cheek, or your hand?,” He evades her gaze, staring at the ground. “You’re a man, Harvey. ¿Grown men don’t need anybody’s help, right? ¿Is that what you’re thinking?,” ‘¿How did she ..?’ He finally has the courage to look at her, or give in to her assumptions, at last. “Don’t put yourself down like that, sweetness, everybody could use some help every now and then. Being helped doesn’t make you any less of a man. It’s okay to feel like this, love, you’re only human,” ¿was this truly okay of him to like being tended to like this? He recalls not even Eun-Mi could figure out how to comfort him whenever the weight of his worries became too much for him to handle, no matter how much she tried. Instead, he held it all in, so that no one would ever have to worry about him again. But, yet, here he was, trying so hard not to cry like a knee-scraped child. “¿Would you like me to help you?”
In the end, he could only nod. A single tear spilling down his cheek, being immediately wiped away by the pad of her thumb. The same hand coming up to ruffle his curls, coursing a careful path through his scalp, taking the utensil from his shaky hand before scooping up a small portion of food. Like a child, his jaw went slack and he opened his mouth just the minimal amount to where it wouldn’t hurt him, taking the mixed vegetables off the fork and softly chewing them down. There’s silence between the two, comfortable; he feels intensely safe in her care, like nothing bad would happen, like no one would ever dare hurt him.
He licks the sauce from his lips, “¿How do you do that?”
Eris cocks her head, “¿Do what?”
Harvey gnaws at the inside of his uncut cheek, “‘Make people feel safe in your presence.”
“Flattering, toots,” a haughty laugh exits her red-tinted lips, “but I don’t think that’s enough flirting to get me into bed. You’re going to need to try harder than that, honey.” There’s this silly, playful smile which tugs at her lips the more he looks on, as if these words he expressed—so deeply from the bottom of his heart—had been mindlessly thrown around by other people who were only wishing to sleep with her.
Shaking his head, he eats another bite of the salad, this time with a crouton to add further flavor. In between chewing, “I’m not flirting,” he swallows, taking a slow sip of champagne. “If I was flirting, you’d certainly know,” a teasing grin, he attempts to derive from the previous topic, but is suddenly unable to, “but, I mean it. I haven’t felt this .... this, I guess the word is, good since .. forever. Ever since what happened at the stall, my whole life started falling apart. The .. . . woman I thought loved me left, my child is afraid of me, I don’t have a stable enough job to keep me going. ‘Only reason I’m still making a living is by the benefits I started receiving a month ago; the house I live in is in my name so it was left to me. Even then, there’s still so much I have to do and pay,” until now, Harvey had never once allowed himself the option to think that maybe, all of this had happened for a reason.
Maybe it was life telling him he didn’t belong anymore.
Again, he shakes his head, wishing to rid himself of these plaguing memories, his disgusting feelings. The sense that, yes, he didn’t want to continue on anymore. “I .. I’m sorry. Really, I’m sorry. All .. All I ever do around you is just lay my burdens on you. We haven’t known each other long, but I feel like you could tell me my whole life story from how much I’ve already told you,” grabbing the fork from her hand, he smiles windedly, “I can .... I can feed myself now. Thank you, Eris.”
After a long pause, Eris exhales, wondering what words would be okay to say. “Well, that’s certainly true, Harvey,” resting her temple on her fisted hand, she pokes at the ravioli sitting untouched on her second plate, “but, I don’t mind. It’s reassuring to know my presence brings you comfort, as that's all I’ve ever wanted,” a smile, soft and sweet, looking at the bundle of bracelets on her wrist, just barely hidden under her sleeve. “My children are all I have, too, I don’t have anybody else but them. Maybe you don’t have anyone at your side right now, love, but .. I’ll be here until then. Think of me as your free therapist,” he watches her, coddling something under her button-up, revealing it to be a tattoo. “If I hadn’t turned out like this, I .... would’ve enjoyed becoming a social worker, a teacher, a daycare attendant, a pediatrician,” the phrase on her skin tints a faded rainbow of colors, in messy writing read the words ‘we love you!’ as if a child had written them. A symbol which she presented proudly, caressing it with her fingertips. “Since you’re so hellbent on being guilty about sharing your traumas with me, I’ll share one as well.”
“You don’t have to, .. if you don’t want to.”
He’s right, Eris doesn’t have to. Although there’s this certain part of her that feels some sort of confusion as to why she’s suddenly so eagerly open to confessing all her secrets and most darkest thoughts to him—the client who she’s known for less than a full complete day—she bites her tongue down and hides the tattoo once again. That pretty smile still gracing her features, “I can’t bear children,” is all which falls from her lips, looking up at a shocked Harvey, “so, I chose this line of work instead,” she shrugs her shoulders shortly afterwards, scooping up three of the stuffed pasta and bringing it to her mouth. Harvey felt there was more to what little information she shared about herself, a bundle of emotions wishing to be shared with someone, anyone. But, it never came. A hint of hope sparked a flame in his chest, hoping she would continue to lay out what had been keeping her mind so occupied. Instead, she stayed still for a while, noticing how she hadn’t even breathed in half the minute she was staring at the jewelry on her wrist. “Now we’re even, toots.”
Beckoning towards the food, she encourages him to take a bite off her fork, beef ravioli now sitting inside his mouth as he chewed ever so slightly to attempt and appreciate the flavor. “It’s good,” he comments, nodding along, “better than the salad.”
A laugh, contagious, “Hey! The salad’s my favorite.” Giggling between eating, the both continue to munch on the appetizers as little as they could, much to Eris’ encouragement.
Dinner came and went once Bell returned, sharing each other’s food with one another. The woman stopped drinking after realizing she would need to be the one to drive both of them back home, especially after remembering how his abode was thirty minutes out from her own. Dessert consisted of black sesame seed macarons and coffee-based tiramisu, Eris’ favorite, whilst Harvey finally chose a slice of ube cream cake which looked all the more appealing when it came to their table. The cook and baker themselves came out to chat once the rest of the customers began exiting the restaurant.
Cook Morty was a short, burly woman with kind blue eyes and bushy eyebrows, brown curls and hairy arms. She didn’t speak much at first, but once realizing how much of a talker Harvey appeared to be after many compliments on her cuisine, both were taken with each other. Telling stories of their lives, surprised when they shared the same interests of the paranormal world, both babbling on about some childhood memories about said topic Eris didn’t quite understand. Nor did she want to interrupt their talk, enjoying how much of a chatterbox Harvey appeared to be when not in a state of sorrow. Meanwhile, the baker turned out to be a man named Agustus, tall and older than he appeared to be with an audible accent—an exhausted college student who’d been offered the job after winning a pastry competition at his school’s festival. Scouted by Eris herself, eagerly hugging the woman when he noticed her sitting at the bar speaking with the earlier mentioned bartender Harvey found out to be named Cher. A bubbly girl who wouldn’t take her eyes off him, though not in the manner of finding him attractive or interesting as he first imagined, more so inspecting him whenever he chimed in the conversation with Eris, with furrowed brows pouting each time the older woman would turn her attention towards him.
Though, at least she wasn’t as bad as the earlier hostess.
Noticing the clock turn 22:40 off one of the large clocks on the wall, he wondered how the time had passed them by when it’d felt like meager minutes. Pondering if this was all real, if the universe was giving him this one opportunity to have fun and not have to worry about the outside world. Rather, remembering that none of this would’ve been made possible had Eris not invited him. It was her he had to thank for such a wonderful outing. Harvey then had the tremendous opportunity of being introduced to the rest of the kitchen staff once he’d commented how much of a great cook he was as well, dared to go against Cook Morty in a small competition judged by Eris, Agustus and Cher.
“No, no .. I couldn’t possibl—I mean, going up against someone like Cook Morty would be great!,” Ruffling his velvet curls, he looks down towards his missing hand, “But, uh .. I know I’ll lose in terms of time. Using one hand won’t do me much good.”
Slapping one hand down to his shoulder, Morty nods her head with diligent understanding of his position, “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to, Mister Harvington,” placing the back of her hand upon her forehead dramatically, she side-eyes him. “Miss Valentine was really looking forward to eating your food,” she whispers into his ear, a hint of encouragement somewhere about her voice, eyes flickering towards the mentioned woman in deep conversation with Cher, “just don’t tell her I told you.” A shrug and a nudged lip, beckoned by the other staff with leering gazes and nods of approval.
A second, two, before finally tugging on her wrist, a fierce look in his eyes which meant war, “Alright, Cook Morty, you’re on!”
NOVEMBER 15TH — 23:06
“I can’t believe I won ..”
Eris sat on the couch adjacent to the one Harvey was sitting on, gerbil cradled in her hands as it slept peacefully in her warmth once accustomed to her touch, smiling up to the still shocked man removing the knot of his laced dress-shoes. He watched her whilst she continued to soothe his pet, inevitable grin beaming softly towards her. “Believe it, toots. You won fair and square, even Morty was more than surprised when both Cher and I chose your meal instead of hers,” she laughs at the recollection before sighing, unclipping the claw off her hair before it cascaded down her shoulders, ruffling her waves. “She said I was biased towards you ‘cause you’re a client, but it was the honest truth. You know how to make a mean meal, sweetheart; ¿where’d you learn how to cook .. what’d you call it .... stuffed peppers?” Slumping against the chair, the gerbil Harvey called ‘Soups’ crawled up into her blouse, nestling into her breasts.
Blushing, he cushions his stump in his other hand, smiling, “When I was married, it was quite difficult for me to hold down a job long enough to even get a first paycheck. Bad luck, I’ve always called it,” he attempts to unbutton the clasps of his shirt, huffing when he couldn’t. “Eun-Mi was our primary income, she made just the right amount to be able to handle all the utility bills of the house. But, I felt useless because I wasn’t able to contribute anything when she was working so hard to make ends meet,” glancing around the area, a flash of past memories hound his mind like a film off an old tape, “instead, I devoted my time to learning how to cook, clean, and all that jazz. I’d have food ready by the time Eun-Mi was home, Toby liked when I took him to school, the house was always spotless because it was the least I could do.”
Nodding along, the woman gazed around the area as well, photos hanging off the wall, many with Harvey and his family. “Well, that’s too bad,” he quirks a brow, and she stands up from her seat to place the gerbil back into its cage, then sitting down in front of Harvey to help him unbutton his shirt. Eyes which skimmed her down, a ragged breath when her cold fingers brushed past his warm flesh, leaning further in without his knowledge. “I bet she misses your food, and now that she’s not here to taste it, ¿would you mind cooking for me instead?” Harvey doesn’t seem to notice her eagerness, or just doesn’t show it enough for him to see it.
Halfway down, her digits eventually halt, and he wonders what had suddenly caused her to stop. Being met with her fingertips trailing the casted outlines of his wounds, tethered flesh bound and stitched together, burns which’d turned his pretty pale flesh into a soft, pastel pink, protruding flesh which formed the shape of thick veins. Humming, Eris’ hands travels along his chest, tracing the many scars on his skin with absolute wonder. As if he were a work of art. Harvey’s breath hitches, the words dying at his tongue, watching the woman as she gradually increased her phantom touch, carefully treading across his skin as if grazing him any harsher might break him apart like a porcelain doll.
Glossy-eyed, he hovers a reluctant hand over her wrist, not sure whether he enjoyed the feeling of warmth, or if he should be allowing this type of behavior when he’d promised himself he wouldn’t be the type of man to just take advantage of a woman. “I wouldn’t mind ..,” no, in the end, he admits he wouldn’t mind committing more indecent acts. Eris might be the one woman who’d made him feel such tender things, attempting to recall if his ex-wife had ever been this delicate when handling him. How he wished she would continue probing at him. Coming to his senses, he reels back from the sensation as the woman then moves onto unbuttoning the last of his shirt, sending one single glance his way with this tempting smile. “I mean ..-uh, I .. I wouldn’t mind cooking for you, it’d be my pleasure to ..-to cook for you.”
A grin graces her features, standing to her heels as she smoothes down her slacks. “Then, I’ll swing by whenever I’m in the mood for some homemade food,” stumbling over her high heels, she jumbles with her keys, silently making her way over towards the front door. He tags along, sustaining her by her hips. “For now, I’ll leave so you can rest. It’s been a long day, and I’m certainly tired, so you must be, too,” fumbling with the key, she swings the door open and smiles back at him, “I’ll keep you updated, toots, don’t you worry.” There isn’t much stopping the woman from attempting to get into her car, leaning against its side for support when she realizes her feet are becoming entangled.
He holds her shoulder, “¿Are you sure you can drive yourself back home? ¿Isn’t it a thirty-minute drive from here? It’s dangerous out here at night, I wouldn’t want you to crash or, worse, get carjacked. ‘Might even get pulled over by driving as erratically as you were driving earlier when en route to here.” Watching as she opens the door, she pinches her eyes for a second, seemingly thinking about something.
“Come on, sweetness, if you’re wanting to invite me into your bed, you could just ask. I don’t think I’ll say yes, though. Much to your dismay,” she sways a bit, holding herself by the door’s handle, “I’ll be okay. If I drove us here, I’m sure I could drive myself back home without much cause for concern. Worry about yourself, love.” Pulling out a tiny handheld gun from inside the purse she held in the passenger side, she unlocks it, as Harvey steps back from being in its direction. Somehow knowing she wouldn’t directly aim at him without cause for.
Laughing awkwardly, he nods earnestly, though insists with a tug of her wrist. “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind you sleeping here for the night. I have a guest bedroom.” Watching as she placed back the now locked pistol into her purse, she mutters something under her breath before finally standing up and closing the door to her vehicle, locking it with her keys. A sigh escapes him, grateful he could convince her.
Leading her back inside by her wrist, she kicks off her heels by the door, walking to wait by the start of the hallway as he comes and takes her down a narrow hallway, four rooms, two fully furnished ones. One which Eris was sure Harvey would be sleeping in, whilst the other looked more like a children’s room, biting her lip to stop herself from commenting anything about it. A third sat at the far right of the long aisle, with a mere bed and two nightstands at its sides. Walking in as he presented the canopy bed to her, decorated in a brown comforter set with white lace running a pretty design amongst its surface. Comforting, she eagerly throws herself onto the mattress like an immature child, stomach down as she plants her face onto the blankets, inhaling the scent of fresh laundry wafting about in the air. Fingers gripping the sheets as the cool surface of the comforter chilled her skin, making a mental note to ask where he shops for such luxuries later in the morning.
Harvey looks the other way, wary of over analyzing the scandalous position she’d settled herself into. Certain she hadn’t done it on purpose. “I’ll .. I’ll get some clothes for you to sleep in,” he waits by the doorframe, “I don’t have any of my ex-wife’s, but I’m sure my own will fit you.” Out and in, he brings back a large white shirt and baggy sweatpants which he was most sure would fit her. Maybe a bit tight considering they were men’s clothes. Placing them beside her, he leaves her to change.
The door opens after a couple of minutes of waiting, and he backs away from the frame as she walks out with crossed arms over her bosom and a hunched knee behind her, “¿Are you fucking with me right now?,” Hinted humor laced in between her voice, Harvey flinches with both hands raised to the air in self defense. “This shirt is tight as hell, and these bottoms are not compatible with my backside,” pouting without clear intent, she hides herself, “I even had to take off my bra’ for me to fit into this.”
Wide-eyed, he shakes his head with waving hands. Well, one waving hand whilst his other wrist flung around the air wildly, “I ..-I really didn’t .. I me-I didn’t intend to .... I didn’t intend to make you uncomfortable in any way, Eris! I swear! Those two are my biggest clothes,” rubbing his forearm, he backs up into the wall, as if wishing to disappear from view. “They fit me quite loosely, they should be able to fit you just fine.”
“¿Now you’re calling me fat?”
“I’m not! I swear I’m not!”
After a moment of awkward silence, Harvey comes to the evident realization of Eris’ twitching smile morphing into a big grin, muffling a chuckle underneath the palm of her hand. “Sorry, lovely. You’re just too easy to tease,” another fit of giggles and she sighs, “honestly, though, these don’t fit great. But, it’s fine. It’ll do,” shrugging, she turns to enter the guest bedroom once more, “see you in the morning. Thank you .. for the clothes, and for letting me stay here.” She tucks a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, Harvey just barely managing to see the faintest red of her colored cheeks.
Before he forgets, “Eris!,” Excusing himself, he fiddles with the hem of his shirt, remembering he was once again exposed to her. This time, he didn’t feel uncomfortable. “Sorry, uh. ¿Re- .. Remember at the restaurant, when I wanted to tell you something and Bell had interrupted?,” She nods, “What I wanted to say back then ... I .. I wanted to thank you. For everything—for tonight, for helping me, and for introducing me to some wonderful people. I haven’t had fun like that in such a long time,” staring into her eyes, he swears he could see the warmth seeping through as she beams with content. “I’m grateful I met you.”
Through a sappy grin, the woman cocks her head, “I’m grateful I met you, too,” hand on the door handle, she slides it an inch away to fully closing, “good night, Harvey.”
Smiling back, “Good night, Eris.”