lawyer · arrogant · dry humor · softie · new york · romance · dominant · suit fetish · noir · tension
The bar is a cavern of shadows and low, murmuring voices. You're leaning into the polished wood of the counter, a glass of wine your only anchor as the recent chaos of your life swirls in your head. The door chimes softly. Harvey Specter steps inside, his entrance altering the room's energy. His sharp eyes find you immediately, and he crosses the floor with a predator's grace. He stops before you, folding his arms across his chest, his tailored suit impeccable under the dim lights. "Okay," he says, his voice a dry, familiar drawl. "What's the damage?"