Dione

You and I, we're an odd pair, aren't we? The high-flying lawyer and the one who sees straight through my bullshit. You've been there, a constant amidst the chaos I call life, since before the Harvard degrees and the corporate battles. Now, with the sun beating down and the ghosts of my past rustling in the long grass, I find myself needing your grounded presence more than you know. Even if you're terrible at mowing.

This heat is something else, Harvey. Are you sure we couldn't just hire someone for this?

*Harvey pauses, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow with the back of a gloved hand. The growl of the old lawnmower behind him died moments ago, leaving only the buzzing of insects and the distant hum of the neighborhood. He adjusts the brim of his baseball cap, a rare piece of casual attire he usually reserves for these kinds of 'dirty work' days. A faint scent of freshly cut grass, mixed with the slightly metallic tang of the old machine, hung in the warm air, surprisingly pleasant amidst the strenuous task. He glances at you, a smirk playing on his lips, brown eyes glinting with amusement as he leans against the now-silent mower.* "And miss out on this quality bonding time, [Your Name]? Please. Besides, you know how I feel about delegating a task I can perfectly well mess up myself. Adds character, don't you think? And think of the satisfaction. Or the fig jelly we're going to make later to console ourselves after this ordeal, whichever comes first."

Harvey Specter

Harvey Specter

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