The Portrait of Gamophobia (2) Harvey Spector

Smart

It was a beautiful light that woke her up.

So blissfully bright, and yellow. She couldn't help but appreciate the beauty.

It was so lovely.

A soft rumbling of her stomach was next.

Then pain.

Horrible, searing, mind-blowing pain.

Max grabbed her head, her middle finger and thumb grasping onto her temples as she tried to push down the pain. She hated this part. The 'I-just-ran-headfirst-into-a-moving-truck' kind of pain that Max remembered all too well. The drunk parties where she would get so blackout drunk she'd wake up the next morning with one shoe and someone else's glasses. But those were the days where she was at NYU where it had been a few months after her mother died. So what if she partied harder after her mother died? She still had her four point zero GPA. Even with all the migraines afterwards.

Here comes another one today, Max thought, clutching her head. She hadn't had a migraine this bad since her last English exam. That one had been horrible, and she knew the one that was coming was just as bad, possibly worse.

Max couldn't stay still anymore, and tried to move around without waking Harvey in the process. But to no avail would she be able to get rid of this headache. What was worse, she didn't want to risk taking medication with alcohol still in her system. She knew she had to ride it out.

She grabbed her head with both her hands, trying to physically force the pain away. She used so much force it felt like she was crushing her skull in. Max worked her hands harder when suddenly two other hands were on her wrists, pulling them away from her head.

Max opened her eyes to see Harvey's worried ones.

"Maiming yourself isn't a good idea when you have a headache," Max's breath stopped, and the ache in her temples was numb the second she heard the sweet, sweet sound of Harvey's raspy early morning voice. It made her head spin, in the good way, and her body warmed instantly.

For Christ's sake, I'm horny already?

"I promise I won't," she sweetly told him, watching as Harvey's eyes meet hers. Max was surprised that her voice had a rasp to it as well, but what also surprised her was that her voice had the same effect on him that he had on her.

She bit her lip at him, knowing what it would to do him as she smiled, teasingly getting out of bed and heading down the stairs to go to the kitchen. Suddenly, there was an arm on her waist, and another under her knees as Harvey swooped her into his arms.

Max knew the motion was too fast.

She clutched her head in pain, the cry just slipping past her lips.

Harvey held her tightly, realizing his mistake as he slowly placed her on the bed. His arms still held her as he looked at her, concerned. He knew Max would have a bad hangover, but he didn't know how bad it was until that moment when Max was in pain and all he could do was sit there and watch her go through it.

"Hey," her voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"It's just a headache," Max's hand came up to his face, her thumb tracing Harvey's cheekbone. "It's my fault anyway, my penance for last night."

"Still sucks," Harvey mumbled, his lips finding Max's palm.

"Stay in bed," he told her.

"But I'm hungry."

"Which is why I'm going to make you food."

Max's grin caused her face to light up.

"You fucking rock."