Colder Parts

Harvey's shaking hands finally come to grasp the age-roughed leather of his belt, and fumbles with the silver buckle - the tremors spreading up his thickly muscled forearms, and it makes it impossible for him to do much of anything, his grasp on it becoming looser and less meaningful, until his arms fall back down to his sides. The belt belonged to his father. This was never confirmed, but he knows this.

After all, he found it in his father's drawer, and in need of a belt, and knowing it would be another couple of years until he saw his dad again anyways, Harvey took it. It now feels suffocatingly tight around his hips. This time, despite his shaking, he grips it firmly, and unwinds it through his belt loops, and then throws it down on the ground like a snake he's trying to kill. For good measure, he steps sharply on the buckle with enough force to crush the imagined head.

He lets out a tense heave of a breath, and then falls backwards into his unmade bed, making no attempts to break his fall. His empty room is that uneasy, clammy cold that comes uninvited at the beginning of winter. Not yet frosty out enough to justify turning on the heat, and burning money to stay warm, but too cool to sit comfortably, even with sheets on. At this thought, Harvey shivers, now just in his undershirt and boxers, but he makes no motion to move and seek warmth.

The discomfort feels familiar, and familiarity is the closest thing he can recognize to comfort. Recently, he's become aware of how unsettled he feels when good things happen to him, and the immediate relief that washes over him when things take a turn for the worse. It's as though something at the very core of his being, at an unconscious level, can't believe that anything good that might happen upon him could be meant to last.

As such, with all the good luck he's been having, he has been tormented for days, and he's been quietly trying to sabotage himself, as to feel normal once again.

He recently started seeing this girl. She moved to town just recently, and he likes her, he really does. She's kind, and pretty, with big dark eyes, and warm smile. Since she's new, she doesn't look at him and see his brother, which he likes. And she doesn't know anything about his past, beyond what he's been ready to tell her. He likes the clean slate he's never really had before, but he knows for sure that something like that really doesn't last.

Hand shaking again, he reaches over to his bedside table, and picks up his phone.

The ringing sounds like a hollow, plaintive knock.

"Hello?" a small, lilting voice on the other end picks up "Harvey? You okay?"

He wavers for a moment, caught off guard by Pixy's sudden presence in his cold, lonely room. He called her without even really realizing it.

"Uh..." Harvey isn't sure what to say, his mouth feeling numb and useless, just hanging there as he lays prone on his back, fixating on his grey ceiling "What... what did you do today?"

Pixy makes a quiet, 'hm' noise, seeming to recognize in Harvey what he can't quite articulate.

"I didn't do much today, actually. Just had a walk. Did some paperwork, cleaned a little," she pauses for a moment, waiting to see if he might interject, and when he doesn't, she continues "Norman was really busy today. Apparently he always is, this time of year. So it was pretty lonely."

"Lonely, huh?" the gruffness of Harvey's voice makes this simple remark sound almost playful, but in truth, he's choked - and he's unsure if he is grateful for his natural stoicism, or if he loathes it more than ever right now.

"Would you mind if I came over?" Pixy slips this in quickly, not giving Harvey the chance to add anything, this time "I'd like to. I'm feeling restless. And... I miss you."

"I miss you too," Harvey can say this with sincerity. His grip tightens on his phone, finding reassurance in its warmth, coupled with Pixy's sweet voice "Um... I have work tomorrow... I'll have to eat, and get ready for bed, and-"

"I'll bring food! And I'll help you get your chores done," Pixy interrupts him, but Harvey just makes a bemused chuffing noise at this "I can even tuck you into bed~!"

She's nothing, if not persistent.

"That'd smooth things out," he feels lame, for saying so little, but Pixy seems delighted nonetheless, letting out a giddy squeal on the other end of the line that warbles a little in its volume "Jeez, Pix. Careful with my ears."

"I'll be over in fifteen. What do you want to eat?" he can hear her scuffling around, clearly getting dressed.

"Take your time, Pixy. I can eat while you're on your way over," slowly, stiffly, Harvey sits himself back up, and squints at the belt on the floor, and tosses his pillow down over it in a surprisingly graceful underhanded toss.

"No! I said I'd look out for you. I know you're better about this than I am, but is fast food okay?"

Harvey puts a hand on his stomach, and thinks for a second. Sitting somewhat hunched over his lap, his midsection comes together in a soft crease that juxtaposes the tenseness of his dense, muscular body.

"There's a Chinese place on the way. That'd... that'd be nice. Thank you," he falters for a moment, and then adds "I'll owe you one."

"No you will not! I'm doing this 'cause I like you, remember? If anything, you're doing me a favor~! Since I've been so bored all day... this is a good excuse to get out of the house, see my favorite person, and eat something that isn't leftovers. See?" Pixy makes a little whinging noise as she audibly knocks something over, though the jingling of her keys in the background lets Harvey know she's on her way down to her car.

He makes another sound of bemused recognition when it hits him that she very clearly referred to him as her favorite person. He instinctually shakes his head, a half smile coming to lazily cock into his right cheek.

"C'mon, now... that's not how this works..." Harvey gets up, and opens his well organized, but scantly filled closet, looking over what is there with some half-felt disappointment.

"I'm going to have to let you go, but I'll tell you how things do and don't work when I get there, mmkay?" Pixy replies quickly, a grin spoken clearly in her words, as her car purrs to life in the background "I'll see you soon, okay, Harvey?"

Harvey just shakes his head again, smiling to himself, and grabbing a loose-fitting slate colored flannel, and lazily pulling it on, not bothering to button it. Painful heat crosses his body, causing him to let out a breath through his teeth, and roll his shoulders - but that only makes it worse. He took a fall at work, and landed painfully, because some idiot hadn't marked a broken machine, and it had been leaking oil for nearly six hours. It's his first real accident on the clock, too, and it's taking him longer to recover than he'd have hoped.

He gingerly puts on some sweatpants, and changes his socks, and then plods to the living room to wait for Pixy. It won't be too long now. She's very quick, when she wants to be.

(pixy arrives - wip)

"Hey, Harv," Pixy speaks in such a soft, loving tone that Harvey suddenly finds himself worrying the state the day left him in is written to clearly on his face, and then realizes that isn't all that likely, as he has been told that 'grim' is his default look.

Looking cheerful would be more out of character. Harvey is pulled from his thoughts by Pixy setting down the bag holding carry out on the flat arm of his couch, and then standing on her tiptoes to lightly hug Harvey.