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iamthatonefangirl · 2 months

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unrequited - harvey specter

now that i'm getting back into the hang of writing hopefully my work quality will improve from whatever this is

send fic ideas!!! all the love on my recent harvey posts is what's keeping me going

also i can only write angst because i am still desperately crushing on my coworker oops

~~~

Your relationship with Harvey was like a ticking time bomb.

You knew that you couldn’t keep this up forever; your feelings for him were too intense. They kept you awake at night, and they kept you from being able to date other men you knew you could like if not for him. Your feelings boiled up inside you day in and day out, and you were forced to suppress them. Harvey Specter was not the relationship type.

You loved him too deeply to think the feelings would just go away one day. No, you would have to cut them off at the source. And that meant leaving not only your firm, but also the city in which you had built your connections, your career, your entire life. All to get away from the one thing you wanted so badly it was beginning to destroy the rest of your life.

He had so easily turned into the main character of your story; it was time to reclaim your position as the protagonist. But that meant outcasting him for good.

When you first started at Pearson Specter, now Specter Litt, you were one of the few associates who Harvey had ever chosen to work directly with him. Years of watching and picking up on how he operated allowed you to grow to your full potential as an attorney at the firm, and for that, you couldn't be more grateful. Which is why even though you no longer worked very closely with him, having been promoted to junior partner, you knew he would be upset to hear your news of departure.

You didn’t want to think about how you would eventually have to quit returning his calls and effectively ghost him to get on with your life.

You expected him to ask what you wanted in return for staying at the firm, and when you would turn down the offer, he would lash out at you. You would leave the office and wouldn’t hear from him again until he called you a month later to check in. This was how it always went with him; it wouldn’t be any different this time around.

Monday morning came around eventually, no matter how much you willed it wouldn’t. Stepping into his office, you were rightfully nervous to broach the topic. “Harvey, do you have a minute?”

He glanced up at you from his desk before replying, “Do any of us around here have a spare minute?” You chuckled at his response and shut the door behind you.

“I’m serious.” He shut his laptop and turned to you. You sat down in front of his desk, hands fidgeting and eyes darting back and forth between him and the files on his desk.

“I’m here to give you my official notice.”

The half-smile he wore when you first walked in shattered. It pained you to see, but you steeled yourself. You knew what to expect next; you just had to grit your teeth and bare through the conversation.

“I’ve been working on finishing up my recent cases over the last few weeks, and so I’m giving you my two-week’s. I’ve already spoken to some of the other partners who have agreed to take over my cases going forward, and I’ll be giving notice to my clients this week.”

He didn’t say anything at all. Now that was uncharacteristic of him.

He soon gathered his thoughts. He averted his eyes as he told you, “No need. I’ll waive your non-compete. You can take your clients with you to wherever you’re going.” He shifted his gaze back to you. “Just answer me this, what did they offer you?”

You didn’t quite understand. “What do you mean?”

He had that serious look on his face, the one he always sported when he realized he was caught in a bind. “The firm you’re leaving me for. What did they offer you to get you to leave?”

“Harvey, they didn’t– I’m not–”

“Senior partner? A higher salary? Because all of those things can be arranged for here, you know that. Just say the word.”

He may have been upset, but he could not possibly have understood how difficult this was for you. His words the firm you’re leaving me for couldn’t have been more true, you were leaving him; no matter how you tried to tell him, you reminded yourself he couldn’t know that.

You paused a moment to exhale before telling him the truth.

“I’m not leaving to go to another firm, you don’t need to waive my non-compete.”

His lips parted ever so slightly as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m going home, Harvey. I’m leaving for San Francisco.”

~~~

He had no idea what you were talking about. Home? How hadn’t this city become your home? This firm? Him?

You rendered him temporarily speechless. He tried to offer you more and more incentive to stay, but you refused.

“I’ll double your salary. I’ll give you a bigger bonus than you’ve ever seen in your life.” You declined. “I’ll promote you. You can be elected a senior partner within the week, and I’ll pay your buy-in fee.”

Why was he trying so hard to get you to stay?

No matter how enticing the offers he made you might have been, you had one goal in mind: protecting your peace. Protecting your future from a man who would continue to take more and more parts of you until you were nothing apart from him. You had to leave before you couldn’t find your way back without him.

“Harvey, I’m leaving, That’s final.” You stood and began for the door.

“How dare you?” You heard from behind you.

Suddenly angered, you turned back to him, “Excuse me?”

“After everything I’ve done for you, you’re leaving, just like that. You’re going to drop everything just for some nostalgic memory of where you grew up?”

“How dare you! Don’t you speak to me that way, Harvey. You have no idea why it is that I’m leaving!” You yelled back at him, finger pointing in his face.

“So tell me!”

“You want the truth, Harvey? I’m in love with you. And I will never escape you any other way. So forget my two week’s notice. I’ll handle all my affairs from home. You’ll have my letter of resignation within the hour.”

With what little dignity you felt you had left, you walked out of the room with your head held high.

~~~

He had no idea, obviously. Of course he felt a connection to you; he trained you, taught you how the world of corporate law worked.

How long had you felt that way? Is there something he could’ve done to avoid this whole situation? His most promising junior partner was leaving, and there was nothing he could do about it. It was his own fault entirely.

He was determined to get the chance to apologize when you came back with your resignation letter. He would straighten out the situation, explain that you could still work there. It wasn’t the end of the world.

Of course, he got called away from his office for a period of time. The letter was there when he returned, and his hopes of keeping you were gone.

~~~

You knew that in the books, the idea of people saying things in the heat of the moment were common occurrences. You didn’t think it could ever happen to you in real life, though. You intended for him to never discover this truth you hid from him. It was simpler that way.

But of course, you were wrong, and it all came out before you had a chance to bite your tongue. Now you had to clean out your desk quickly and say your goodbyes quietly.

~~~

Three months later, you were settling into your new position. Since you anticipated spending another two weeks in New York, you had a whole month between your resignation and the time you were expected to start in California.

You were finally starting to live your life more for yourself. You thought about Harvey less and less each day, until you could go out and meet another man without feeling like you were cheating on him. Crazy how you never got to call him yours, but still felt disloyal whenever you tried to go out with someone else while you were still in New York.

Although you didn’t have the close relationship with your new supervisor that you had with Harvey, you felt welcomed and supported by your coworkers. You hated to admit that life was dull for a great number of weeks as you went through Harvey withdrawals, but it was true. Things were finally starting to get better until you got a knock on your door one day.

~~~

You’d blocked Harvey’s number on your phone for a great many number of reasons. You never expected him to just show up at your new place, though.

“Harvey? What are you doing here?” you questioned.

“Can I come in?” You allowed it.

“You haven’t been taking my calls,” he pointed out to you, to which you replied, “I blocked you, Harvey. Why are you not in New York right now?”

“I needed to see you,” was his only response. And with just those five little words, all the work you’d done to get over him was erased. It allowed your mind to flood with ideas of him wanting you in any way other than professionally or platonically. Damn you, Harvey, you thought.

“For what?”

“I want you to come back.” Unhelpful answer.

“Why?”

“You sure ask a lot of questions, don’t you? I want you to come back because I trained you, and you’re an asset to the firm that we’re losing out on.”

“So you’re only here for a return on your investment in me.”

As you said that to him, he realized he fucked up.

“Look, I didn’t mean–”

“Yes! You absolutely did! You show up here, out of nowhere, telling me that you need my skills to benefit the firm, not that you might just want me to come back. Not that maybe I myself am beneficial to the firm, or even that you just miss me! God, can you really not acknowledge what I told you the last time I saw you?”

He paused. “Look, I know what you said. Yet still, I came.”

“And what does that mean, exactly? That you’ve suddenly come to terms with it and realized that you love me too?”

He didn’t respond at all.

“I’m not coming back, Harvey. I need a life separate from you. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

He shook his head in agreement. “I’m sorry I can’t be what you need me to be.” He turned towards the doorway and saw himself out as the tears started welling up in your eyes.

Those were the last words you heard from him for a very long time.

~~~

masterlist

#fem reader #harvey specter #harvey specter x reader #harvey specter x you #self indulgent #self insert #suits #suits tv #my writing #angst #sad ending

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writer-by-the-sea · 8 days

Note

Um, hi! I'm new and I really like your works!

I want to make a request for Haley and Penny (separate) if that's okay with you!

Scenario: how would they react when they find out that their s/o, the farmer, used to be a member of the Mafia? A hitman to be exact, but they've changed and left that life behind.

I don’t think I’ve ever done a full on headcanon before, but I figured why not!

Instead of doing mini fics for only two characters, I am going to attempt to write these thoughts into a slightly coherent but readable mess. WARNING: These do not all end happily. Some are very heavy angst and they break up with you.

-------------------------------------------------------------

“There’s… something I need to tell you,” the farmer began, rubbing the back of their neck while they looked away from the person in front of them. Someone that they’ve come to love, to trust enough to finally open up to, and someone who might understand.”Before moving to Stardew… I was... Part of a very bad crowd,” they pause and take a deep breath. “Not just a little group of delinquents that spray paint the side of buildings.

“Something.. Far worse. I know that you might view me differently because of this but– I want you to know who I truly am. I never want to lie to you, and while I wanted to keep this secret buried deep inside; I care about you too much to allow you to continue dating me without knowing…

“I was a hired killer, an assassin, a hitman.”

-------------------------------------------------------------

Alex

“Hey, man, you don’t have to lie to me to look cool,” Alex laughed and gave you a thumbs up. “You’re already really cool in my book.”

You grimace before saying, “Alex, I’m not lying.”

“Oh,” he breathes out. A minute passes, the gears turning in his head as he thinks it over. “Ohhh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you reply. “I understand if you need some space–”

Alex leaned back into his bed, letting himself land softly on his back. “Gramps has killed a few guys, so I’m not really worried about it.”

You look down at him and raise a single brow, “Wasn’t that in war though?”

“It was, but it’s the same thing, isn’t it?”

“Not.. really.”

Alex shrugs and sighs, “if you asked him for stories, he would spend the rest of the day telling you every single bloody detail. I’ve heard them all a thousand times.” He sat up, dropping her face to a sneer and pulled his lips back. “During that war,” he began, perfectly mimicking his grandfather. “I killed fitty men! I collected their earlobes and wore them around my neck like a trophy!”

You laughed, bumping your shoulder into Alex. “Okay, that’s a little fucked up actually.”

“You haven’t even heard the worst of it,” he answered with a grin. “He likes to tell this story about the time they had to go save some guy–”

“Wait,” you cut him off, gently placing your fingertips against his lips to stop him. “I just.. I want you to know that I love you, and that all of that shit is in the past… but I understand if you want nothing to do with me after this.”

Alex pushed your hands away with his lips, laughing again as he pulled back. “It’s alright, I get it. Just don’t keep anything else from me, okay?”

You nodded and pulled him into your arms, giving him a good squeeze. “I promise.”

Alex slid out of your arms and ran to his bedroom door, swinging it open before playfully glaring at you. “As punishment for not telling me in the first place!” He took a really deep breath filling his lungs before shouting “Grandpa! The farmer wants to hear all your war stories!”

Alex wasn’t scared of you. Afterall, nothing you’ve done could ever compare to the stories he grew up with. He knew his grandpa regretted the choices he made, but sometimes, you have to do cruel things to survive.

Elliott

Elliott quickly grabbed his wine, downing the glass in one huge gulp before placing it back onto the table. “What you’re telling me,” he whispered, his gaze focused on the empty wine glass. “You’re being truthful? This isn’t a jest?”

“No,” you answered, scooting your chair closer to his. “Just.. I know you’re in shock right now, but please just give me a chance to explain–”

“This is wonderful news!” Elliott jumped up from his chair, darting to a notebook that lies open with scribbles across the pages. He sprinted back, throwing himself back into the chair as harshly it nearly toppled over with him in it. “Tell me, what does another man’s eyes look like as you choke the life out of him?”

“W-what?” you stammered, glancing down at the notebook that was now on the table where Elliott held his quill above it, ready to write. “Are you trying to get a confession from me?”

“Heavens no!” He replied with a laugh, putting his quill down and turning to grab your hands. “My next novel is a murder mystery! I would love to have your feedback.”

“You’re kidding,” you replied, your mouth hanging open.

“Not at all, my love!” Elliott smiled so brightly, you would have thought you just told him his book had a million sales; not that you used to kill people for a living. “It truly is destiny that we were to meet!”

“Do… Are you okay with my past?”

“Ah,” Elliott nodded, understanding now why you seemed so hesitant with your words. “We all have our demons, don’t we, darling? If I were ever to judge every person I knew by the skeletons in their closet.. Well, life wouldn’t be very fun, now would it?”

“I’m…” you tried to focus, confusion swirling in your head making everything foggy and hard to follow. “What?”

Elliott was already back to his notebook, licking the pad of his thumb while he flipped through the pages. “This part here,” he held the book out to you, the page filled with brainstorms and more messy scribbles. “Could you fact check it for me? I honestly don’t know what a man sounds like when he gets stabbed like this. Also, the shoulder would be a good spot for them to survive from a stab, right?”

You laughed, shaking your head at this ridiculous man. “Well, actually, there’s a main artery that going along the shoulder–”

Part of you wasn’t surprised that Elliott was excited to discuss bloody, brutal, cold murder with you. Although, the writer did make a point the next day to scold you for keeping the secret from him. He could have finished his novel even sooner, and… he could have told you how much he loves you and would never give you up.

In fact, he would help you get away with murder.

Harvey

“No,” Harvey stood abruptly, his knee hitting his kitchen table and nearly knocking his coffee over, the hot liquid jumping out of the mug and onto the table. “Shoot!” he cried as the coffee landed on some of his folders that were spread out.

You joined him in grabbing napkins, trying to clean the coffee before it caused too much damage.

“I can’t believe this,” he whispered as he tossed the dirty napkins aside, uncaring of where they would land. “Not you, not my farmer, no…”

You pressed your lips together, trying to hold back your emotions. “Harvey–”

Then he broke before you, a sob ripping through his throat right before he began sobbing. His glasses getting wet and foggy as he let each tear slide down his cheeks. “Not you…”

“Please, I just–”

Harvey straightened up, taking a deep breath and forced himself to meet your eyes. “I have dedicated my whole life to helping those who need it. I took an oath to assist any single soul that cries for help. If a patient dies on my table, I have to live with that for the rest of my life. The rest of my life knowing that I couldn’t do enough for them!”

Your eyes widen, dread filling you as you realize this is the end. “Harvey, please–”

“Get out,” he growled, his voice deep, dangerous, and oozing with hatred.

“Let me explain–”

“For you to come to me, and tell me that you took human lives for your own gain? I don’t need to hear another word,” Harvey took a step towards you, his body tensing, preparing to fight you if he must. “Get the fuck out of my home.”

Everything in you wanted to stay, to fight for what you had…

You left, crying on your way back to the farm, your heart shattered beyond repair.

Sam

“For real?” Sam's face scrunched in disbelief. “No, you’ve gotta be joking. Ain’t no way the hot farmer killed some dudes.”

While your hands may have been tough from constantly working in the dirt, Sam could never imagine in a million years that you would kill a fly on the wall, let alone another human being!

“Is it April Fool’s? It is, isn't it?” he joked and nudged you. “Well, you got me–”

“Sam,” you breathed out in reply, the truth hanging between you.

“Holy shit,” Sam stood slowly, taking a step back from you. “You’re serious? You’ve actually killed people?”

“Yes.”

“Dude…” he ran a hand through his wild hair, not caring how the gel stuck to his fingers.

He needed more information, but right now, he needed to make one thing clear.

“Look,” he started and made his way back to you, dropping himself on his mattress next to you. “Like, I’m not gonna dump you over this; but keeping that from me was seriously not cool.”

“I know,” you mumbled in reply and offered a weak smile. “I just–”

Sam raised a hand, cutting you off. “No, we’re gonna talk about this later, after we’ve both had some pizza, and maybe a couple… or an entire case of beer. You’re gonna break all this shit down for me, and then we’re gonna talk about how you’re doing like.. Mentally. After doing all that shit.”

“Mentally?” you asked with a laugh. “What--”

“Nope,” Sam stood and grabbed your hand. “Pizza first, you asshole. I can’t believe you killed people, so fucking weird.”

Sam was in it for the long run, and while he viewed you differently (as like, a cold blooded killer what the fuck,) he wasn’t going to give up on you just because of a dark past.

Sebastian

“I mean, who hasn’t?”

Your head whips up to stare back at Sebastian, not sure you just hear those words correctly. “Wait–”

“You think I haven’t killed a man? Why do you think I hide out in the basement coding shit all day instead of living in the city and making a fortune? Be realistic.”

“Sebastian, I–”

“No, it’s cool. I really don’t care,” he said with a shrug and went back to typing on his computer.

“Well, no, wait; Sebastian that’s a lot to drop on someone–”

“Hey, I wasn’t a fucking hitman though now was I?”

“I don’t know, were you?!”

He shrugs again, reaching for an open pack of cigarettes and lights one up. He takes a deep drag and then blows it out slowly. “I’m gonna go get some leftover pumpkin soup, I made it last night, you want some?”

You just stare back at him, your jaw hanging open. Now you were the one that needed more information!

But, you supposed that could wait. Pumpkin soup was on the line, afterall.

Shane

He takes a sip of his soda, savoring the flavor and bubbles before putting his can back down on the kitchen table.

“So,” he began, forcing himself to sit up straight and meet your eyes.

“Are you here to kill me then?”

“What?”

“Are you.. here, to kill me?” Shane asked again, slowly.

“No!” you shouted and waved your hands in front of you like a white flag. “You’ve got the wrong idea!”

“I’m not telling you how I made the chickens blue, you can beat me to the brink of death and I’ll never spill–”

“Shane, babe, no– well actually how do you–” you stopped speaking as Shane glared at you and narrowed his eyes. “Nevermind the chickens, I’m not here to kill you.”

“To kill Marnie then?” He asks. “To end the competition for milk and eggs? You make me sick,” he spit.

“No, what? I turn all my milk into cheese to make you Pepper Poppers or Pizza–”

“Then the eggs!” He declares and stands up, pointing a finger down where you sat.

“Please, just listen to me,” you stood with him, on the verge of tears knowing that this could be the end–

Shane’s frown twitched, so quick you could almost miss it.

You opened your mouth to speak, then closed it, then opened it again.

“Oh, I see. You came here to kill Willy, with your gaping fish mouth.”

Any doubt or worries you had dropped instantly. “You’re totally fucking with me, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I found your list of names a few months ago. You really shouldn’t leave that stuff lying around you know?”

“Yoba,” you sighed in relief and dropped back into your chair, the wood lightly squeezing on the tiled floor. “Why didn’t you say anything?” You kept your head down, ashamed to have ever tried to hide this from him.

Shane chuckled and sat back down, “I figured you’d tell me when the time was right.”

You risked a glance at Shane, “do you hate me for it.”

“Hate you? Of all people to hate someone for the mistakes they made in their past, you think I’m going to be one of them? I’m a little offended, farmer.”

“I’m sorry,” you cracked a smile as he gazed at you, his eyes filled with all of the love and support in the world.

He was right, Shane would never judge you for your past, just as you never judge him for his. The only thing that matters is the kind of person you are moving forward, and that suits him just fine.

Abigail

The first thing she asks, with a wicked grin and excited eyes, “So, how many people did you kill?”

While she knows the value of a human life, she could never allow her thoughts to wander towards ‘what if I killed someone?’ She feared she may pursue it herself.

“What was your weapon of choice?” she would ask next, hardly containing the buzz flowing through her body from the quick high; knowing she was talking to (dating!) a certified badass killer.

She does view you differently, however.

Not as an evil person, as you might have expected; but someone strong enough to protect her, someone who told her this knowing that she might turn away from them, someone who loves her enough to put her first.

The subject is sensitive, and she knows not to tease you too much or ask for too many details; but she does ask for the occasional story – if you’re willing to give it.

Emily

She gasps, her hands flying up to cover her mouth as she stares back at you in horror. “W-what do you m-mean,” she stumbles over her words, her hands now shaking as she lowers them away from her face, trying to steady them as they rest in her lap. “You.. you actually, ki–” she can’t finish the sentence.

“I did what I had to, to get by. Please understand that I’m not a bad person-”

“You killed people,” she dropped her head and watched as tears fell into her lap. “You actually killed people…”

“Emily–”

“How can I trust you after this?!” She jumped up, still shaking while she paced around her room. ��How can I know that you’re not withholding more?!”

You stood and put your hands on her shoulders, holding her in place, but she refused to meet your eyes. “I swear to you, I will never hide something from you again… if you just give me a chance to prove myself.”

Emily dropped her head onto your shoulder, softly sobbing and letting her tears drip onto your shirt. “You’re going to tell me everything.”

“Okay,” you whispered back, your arms moving down to wrap around her. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

There would be a lot of trust issues moving forward, and Emily would keep you on a tight leash for a while; but she knew that not everyone was perfect, and while she might not like your past, she loves who you are now. And she’s not willing to give up yet.

Haley

She looked up from her phone, her brow dropping down and her eyes narrowing, “Ew.”

You tried not to snort a laugh at her reply, but failed miserably. “That’s all you have to say? Ew?”

She rolled her eyes at you, “what else am I supposed to say? Oh no, please don’t kill me, super scary hitman?”

“Uh,” you looked around you as if you could find the answer hovering in the air. “I’m.. not.. sure, honestly.”

Another eyeroll. “You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it’s worth. I’m still going to love you no matter what dumb shit you’ve done in your past. I mean, did you know that I dyed my hair black once? Also, ew. Total regret.”

Bewildered, you plopped down beside her, shaking your head in disbelief. “You don’t care?”

“Ugh. Of course I care,” she slapped you on the side and finally put her phone aside. “But you obviously regret it, like I did with the black hair, and while our past mistakes may have been huge; it doesn’t dictate who we are today. So, don’t worry about it.”

“You realize you’re comparing black hair to the murder of a.. Lot of people?”

“Babe,” she took a deep breath, staring deep into your eyes, begging you to understand…

“I used a box dye. Tell me a worse crime than that.”

You laughed together, her crime never coming close to your misdeeds, and she knew it. But after getting to know you, she knew she could continue to trust you just as she always has.

Leah

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Leah threw her paintbrush at you, hitting you in the chest and leaving a splotch of yellow paint. “Not again!”

“Again?!” you shouted back in shock. “What do you mean again!?”

“Tell me,” she hissed. “How many, what organization, and why the hell did you make me fall in love with you?!”

“Leah,”

“Do. Not. Leah. Me.” Each word spit in your direction. “Answer me.”

You sighed, “it was a lot of people.. The organization was international and I never really knew who was in charge..” Closing your eyes, just to get away from her angry glare for a moment, you continued, “I never meant to mislead you. I wanted to tell you the truth to see if I even still stood a chance with you.”

Leah relaxed, shaking her head before finding a place to sit down. “Thanks, for telling me, I guess.”

Moving to her side, you kneeled next to her, taking her paint stained hands into your own. “Please, just give me a chance to make this up to you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Yeah, well. You did,” she gently pulled her hands away, turning away from you. “Honestly, I don’t know if I can go through this again.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re never fully out of that life, farmer. That past will come back to haunt you one day, and I don’t think I have the strength to endure it.”

“No, Leah, it’s over, I swear–”

“Just leave, okay? I have a lot to think about.”

Dejected, you do as you're told, stopping to say one last thing before you go. “I hope you’ll give me another chance, Leah. I’ve never felt this way about someone before, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

She sniffles and wipes a tear away, “we’ll see.”

Maru

She begins by tilting her head at you, her eyes scanning you up and down before turning back to her studies. “I know that, it’s pretty obvious.”

“Huh?!” you blurt out, shaking your head. “How–”

Maru sighed and put her work aside, realizing that they needed to have a full chat about this now, despite her samples calling for her.

“Once, you mentioned the amount of required poison to kill a person without raising suspicion to require an autopsy.”

“Okay, but–”

“Another time, when my dad asked if you wanted to go camping one weekend and maybe hunting, you asked if a Heckler & Koch P30L would be an appropriate gun to bring.”

“I’ve never been hunting before!” you defended, weakly.

“Sweetheart, it’s a handgun. You don’t go hunting with a handgun.”

“Hang on–”

“Furthermore, you have two bullet wounds that I know of. One on your lower left calf and the other on your upper bicep. You also have obvious scars from being stabbed or sliced and it was most certainly not from a childhood cat.”

You both stared at one another. You felt like an idiot for thinking you could ever hide anything from her.

“Does it bother you?”

“A little,” she admitted with a small shrug. “So long as you don’t go back into that kind of work though, I can get over it. Just don’t ever try to lie to me again, I will always know.”

Penny

Her eyes widen and her heartbeat jumps so quickly she thinks she might faint.

She would have never expected this of you.

Going into the mines was one thing, but killing people was a whole other level of insanity.

It takes her a minute to process what you’ve just told her, her hands twisting in her lap, fearing she’s going to say the wrong thing.

“Were they all bad people?” she finally asks, lifting her eyes up to meet yours.

You take a moment to respond, a lie resting at the tip of your tongue, but you squash it and say, “No, they weren’t.”

At this, Penny breaks.

She drops her head into her hands and cries, pulling her knees up and to her chest while the heels of her feet rest on the edge of the couch.

She was in love with you. So desperately, eagerly, pathetically in love with you.

And now, she doesn’t know how to move forward.

Her whole life, she has dealt with bad people. From the moment she was born she has fought with everything she’s ever had to be one of the good ones. Abiding by the rules, keeping to herself to avoid stepping on any toes, taking care of others when they don’t even appreciate the kindness she shows to them.

“I don’t-” she gasped between her tears. “I don’t think I can do this.”

The farmer nodded, taking her hands into their own and squeezing them gently. “I love you, Penny. More than anything.”

“Why did you have to tell me?” she whispered. “Why..”

“I couldn’t keep lying to you..”

Penny stood, ripping her hands away to rope the back of them under her eyes. “Don’t talk to me. Don’t talk to me ever again.”

Then she ran off, leaving you there as the guilt washed over you.

44 notes · View notes