The Portrait of Gamophobia (2) Harvey Spector

Sorry

Harvey had learned a very vital thing about his new wife.

She hated airplanes.

In fairness, she had pre-warned him months in advance, letting Harvey know of the horror that he was faced with at that moment. He tried to hide his laughter as he watched Max grip the armrest, riding out the turbulence on the flight. Harvey had told her repeatedly she was going to be fine, but Max couldn't help but not believe him in that moment. It didn't feel like she was going to be alright. It's been more than seven hours, Max kept reminding herself. It's been more than seven hours. Less than thirty minutes until you arrive.

Less than thirty minutes until London.

Harvey dropped the bomb when they arrived at JFK, just after they had picked up their luggage. It had been very early, and the airport was practically empty when Harvey told Max the honeymoon was in London. Well, it was going to start in London, and then spend their last two days in Amsterdam, to which Max rolled her eyes before laughing her ass off at his choice. She figured Harvey would be the type of person to have a surprise within a surprise, and her unpredictable husband didn't let her down. Max hoped that her honeymoon would end up somewhere in the Northwestern part of the world, but knew that Harvey wouldn't let a little thing like her fear of flying stop him from spoiling her (to Max's standards, of course).

"Attention passengers, we will be arriving to Heathrow Airport within twenty minutes-"

"Would you ease up on my hand, babe?" Harvey had cut off the pilot's announcement as Max was snapped out of her thoughts, realizing her hand had caught Harvey's in a vice grip, effectively cutting off all circulation.

"Sorry." Max pried her hand off, watching her new husband flex his fingers.

"Now I'm definitely scared of you in labour."

Harvey's wife smirked as she leaned back on her headrest. "Hopefully I get to break your other hand."

"Is that a bet?"

"Do you want to make it one?"

Harvey scanned Max's face, a grin growing on his own.

"A hundred bucks."

She opened one of her eyes to peer at Harvey. "Let's make it a thousand."

Max stuck her hand out, watching one of Harvey's eyebrows lift slightly. He met her eyes, watching the mischief dart around the hazel gems as she turned her head to stare at him.

"You're on, Specter." Harvey bit out playfully, clasping Max's hand to confirm the bet.

Turbulence hit the plane again, causing Max to flinch back into her seat as she clutched onto the armrests for dear life. Harvey tried to muffle his laugh, being unsuccessful as his chuckles annoyed Max. She was frustrated at him for thinking her aviophobia was hilarious, but she knew her fear of flying was ridiculous. It didn't help her though, as the pit in her stomach wouldn't settle every time the plane jolted.

"You could try not being an asshole, thanks."

Harvey sighed, the smile still on his face as he took Max's hand back in his. His favourite shit-eating grin was slowly growing. "But then I wouldn't be myself."

"Heaven forbid that shit happens." Max shook her head at the man beside her.

The atmosphere they were in was whirling in sarcasm as Maxine Specter watched her Harvey give her an unamused look. "I can't wait until you're old and bitter."

"Old? Most likely. Bitter? Nah."

He smiled. "So you won't get upset when your boobs hug your knees?"

Max snorted. "Why do you think there's plastic surgeons in this world?"