It was bubbling with excitement, as any wedding should be, the whole room shaking and bustling with the joy.

"To the newly weds!" They all shout with a laugh, their glasses chinking against each other as they made a toast in the centre. He'd much rather down the wine in one go, push the toast away, but Harvey had mannerisms to keep up to, and joined in the clinking away.

'Here's to my regrets and lost pleasures. Hopefully this drink will aid to drown and numb them, bring me back to a feelingless monster.'

He thought bitterly, bringing the glass to his chapped lips and downing it in one. As he brought his head down, he saw the smile bright and wide kissed off the lips of the man, the reason for all of this, by the reason he's still here.

Was Harvey really so shallow, and low as to be jealous, feel a tug at his heart at the sight?

The answer was yes. Of course he was. But the more pressing question was;

Why did he come?

Like a widower visiting the grave of the recently deceased love of his life, he wanted to see him one last time.

The band begins to play, and Harvey wasn't quite sure when the majority of the group had bustled away from the main bar. (Or when four glasses of whiskey had been downed. He hardly felt tipsy.) He brought his attention to the now clear dance floor, the beginnings of their first dance playing. Harvey couldn't help the drifting hand that picked up a glass that probably wasn't even his and drank from it as he watched. The pair danced like an old pair of bluebirds flying within one another, a dance they knew by heart and did each year. It was slow, and a Harvey could see the tears in the eyes of the man he loved. The first tears of happiness he'd seen from him for a near five years. He looked to Harvey, a soft smile etching onto his features and Harvey tried to fake a nonchalant smile back. Got to fake it for the show, right?

It died down, people slowly taking their first steps onto the floor. Harvey watched as the newly weds parted, the hands that had once touched his, sliding down the arms of his husband, and he looked to Harvey.

"Harvey." The voice was bubbly, light, full of love and joy. Harvey felt selfish for resenting it. "Care to ask me for a dance?" His hand slipped from his husbands, and he cast a beaming smile to him mouthing a 'don't worry, Ol. It's fine.' To him before extending it towards Harvey.

"Mr. Ross." Harvey said, unable to help the happiness that snuck its way into his tone as he stood. "Or should I say Sanders-Ross? Or Ross-Sanders?"

He earned himself a shove.

"Care to dance one last time?" Harvey asked, formality in his tone, taking the extended hand.

"My hands in yours for a reason." He laughed, and Harvey couldn't help the pang of regret he felt at it. Harvey took one last glance to the glass of alcohol before wrapping his arm around the waist of the man he had asked to dance, pulling him close.

Harvey loops his hands around his hips, and the person he was about to dance with looped theirs around Harvey`s neck. The lawyer couldn't help the nolsalgia that he felt as the danced, movements swaying within one another. Their dance was in no way as beautiful or as crafted as the one between him and his husband, but it was new. Like two butterflies dancing within one another, unknowing to the fact that in a few days one of them will be dead.

Harvey couldn't help the ache in his chest as the body pulled away and ran back to the one who had pieced it back together.

He despises the man he runs to, the man who was all grunt and groan, only to smile when he is greeted with the man that should be his, and he despises the feeling of despising it.

Because waking up each day in a bed two sizes to big, the side only now just becoming less deep and less Mike shaped, was worse than the despise.

One last dance, Ross. One last dance.