Ummm, I'm sorta at a loss with where to start so I'm just gonna go chronologically from the bits and pieces I copied into my WP.
(Yes, I'm that much of a nerd)
As a rule, they never talk about it, but he always remembers:
Donna tastes exactly like she talks – sharp, smooth, with a little bit of salt around the edges.
Harvey could always appreciate continuity. There's something so *them* about this even though it's mostly an observation about her. I think it's something about how it's unspoken, the implication that at certain times it still clearly comes back to him. Also, that's a spot on description of her.
He presses his eyes closed, imagines his life five, ten, fifteen years from now and the only constant he sees as the images flicker before him is her. He doesn’t know what it means, isn’t ready to know what it means. Ahhhhh! I don't even know... just I love that he has those images, can see the possibility even if he's not ready to recognize it for what it is.
“This place was a mess without you,” he tells her sometime in the aftermath of her return, and he surprises them both by reaching for her, fingers gentle as they press against her wrist, thumb tracing the space where the bones collide. ♥ ♥ ♥ I adore the underscoring if his words - of what they both know he means - with the actual touch. So intimate and telling and just lovely.
I just really liked how you used the structure here to weave everything - past relationships, work, moments - together. What a wonderful piece.
(And in case it wasn't obvious, no, I'm not tired of the amazing fic. Never.)
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2012-09-17 03:01 am (UTC)(Yes, I'm that much of a nerd)
As a rule, they never talk about it, but he always remembers:
Donna tastes exactly like she talks – sharp, smooth, with a little bit of salt around the edges.
Harvey could always appreciate continuity.
There's something so *them* about this even though it's mostly an observation about her. I think it's something about how it's unspoken, the implication that at certain times it still clearly comes back to him. Also, that's a spot on description of her.
He presses his eyes closed, imagines his life five, ten, fifteen years from now and the only constant he sees as the images flicker before him is her. He doesn’t know what it means, isn’t ready to know what it means.
Ahhhhh! I don't even know... just I love that he has those images, can see the possibility even if he's not ready to recognize it for what it is.
“This place was a mess without you,” he tells her sometime in the aftermath of her return, and he surprises them both by reaching for her, fingers gentle as they press against her wrist, thumb tracing the space where the bones collide.
♥ ♥ ♥ I adore the underscoring if his words - of what they both know he means - with the actual touch. So intimate and telling and just lovely.
I just really liked how you used the structure here to weave everything - past relationships, work, moments - together. What a wonderful piece.
(And in case it wasn't obvious, no, I'm not tired of the amazing fic. Never.)