my blog for my writing, pls don't take it as your own, I work hard for my own writing; do not repost as your own!!
♡ ʟɪɴᴋᴛʀᴇ ♡
star wars girl + too many others. horror is my thing , i love making character inspired playlists, on my linktre ! i love halloween 🖤
currently listening to : sinister by 6arelyhuman
period comforts are my specialty, but I write a lot of different things — this is a safe space, no hateful comments ! I do not write smut, but some kissy dialogue (I have word counting on more recent writing than my old. + there is always a risk of typos in my writing ♡ sorry)
ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ: ୨୧
linktre above . ignore community labels , ai free writing , I make all of my photo banners (combos) please don't take as your own ♡ please lmk if any of my links don't work, message or ask box is totally okay!! ♡ ⊹₊ I DONT TAKE REQUEST
synopsis: you and him are friends in the reve penitentiary, but you have your period and he notices you aren't yourself
warnings: menstrual pain, cramps, angst, a kiss scene (non sexual), typos
-
I didn't see Abner all day. He was probably on lockdown, like a lot of us were for a couple of hours in an empty room. It was mind torture.
I sat at a table, looking down at the brown tea sitting in the little glass cup. I sighed to myself as a cramp hit my lower back, making me wince. I bit my lip, trying to silence myself.
I didn't want anyone looking at me. Not even the prison guards standing behind the bulletproof glass and bars.
This wasn't Arkham. And all this time I've been here, I've tried to convince myself it wasn't really a prison. Not really.
Because I had Abner. Then a sharp buzz echoed through the prison cafeteria.
I looked over my shoulder.
It was Abner.
A few inmates laughed under their breath. Others threw cruel comments his way, mocking him just because they could.
He lowered his head slightly, almost ashamed of himself.
I shook my head as he approached me. "What did I say about listening to them?"
I watched him sit beside me.
He grumbled, "I know, I know. It gets to me sometimes."
He glanced at me, then looked around before his eyes settled back on my face. He noticed I looked more tired today. Paler, even.
"Hey... you okay?" he asked quietly.
I nodded a little. No way in hell was I telling him I was on my period. That would be embarrassing.
Not that I thought he'd treat me badly.
I just... how was I supposed to tell him? He nodded a little to himself.
She was lying.
"I was gonna get some water. Want some?" His eyes drifted down to my tea. It wasn't even steaming anymore.
I shook my head.
"I'm okay, Abner. Thanks, though."
He walked over to the water dispenser and grabbed one of the little paper cups. He filled it to the rim before bringing it to his lips.
One of the guards watched him from the doorway.
Abner glanced at him for only a second.
He always felt awkward whenever someone watched him for too long.
Especially someone with more authority than him. He swallowed nervously, filled the cup again, and walked back over to where I was sitting.
He looked a little shaken up.
I smiled.
He noticed it the second he sat down.
"Shut up," he mumbled.
His hand shook slightly around the paper cup, but after a few seconds, he managed to steady it.
Yeah, I teased him sometimes about his social anxiety.
But when it mattered most, I always helped him through it.
Just like he always helped me. Another sharp pain shot through my lower back.
I lowered my head and let out a quiet moan.
His eyes immediately snapped toward me.
He leaned forward. "Y-you okay?"
I shook my head and gripped the side of the table.
His eyes followed my hand.
My arm was shaking from how tightly I was holding on while my body worked through another rough wave of pain. He looked around, making sure no one was paying attention.
Then he hesitated.
His hand hovered near mine, struggling to touch me like I was a hot surface that might burn him.
I bit my lip so hard I thought I tasted blood.
He stayed quiet, he didn't say another word until I slowly straightened back up.
And when I did...
"What was that about?" he asked.
There wasn't any judgment in his voice. Only concern.
His voice stayed low, barely above a whisper.
I sighed and finally loosened my grip on the table, I hadn't even realized how tightly I'd been holding onto it.
His eyes never left me.
He gently pushed his paper cup toward me. I shook my head.
He understood. Whatever was happening, water wasn't going to fix it.
He mentally scolded himself.
Stop being stupid. Stop nagging her, even though he wasn't nagging me at all.
He took another small sip from the paper cup before speaking again.
"You sounded like you were in pain..."
"I'm just..." I let out a slow breath. "I have my period."
He immediately spat out his water.
It sprayed clear across the table.
He slapped a hand over his mouth, coughing as he tried to catch his breath. He didn't even bother looking at the people who had already turned to stare. He wasn't embarrassed.
He was just... shocked. I felt my cheeks heat up.
That reaction definitely wasn't what I expected. Abner coughed a few more times before finally clearing the water from his throat.
I stood up.
I was too embarrassed to even look at anyone.
Not even him.
He stood up so fast his chair scraped loudly across the floor.
"No, no, no. Wait."
He gently grabbed my wrist, not hard. Never enough to hurt me. "I didn't mean to... do that."
He mentally hit himself and groaned.
"That... makes sense why you're in pain."
I looked up at him. I was pale and lightheaded. He noticed immediately.
Nothing ever seemed to slip past him when it came to me.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. He looked around, jaw tightening.
Not now.
This matters more than being embarrassed about the water.
"Here."
He gently guided me toward the hallway leading back to the rooms.
He stayed close the whole walk, ready to catch me if I stumbled.
"Abner, I'm fine."
He cut me off. "You- you don't have to keep saying you're fine when you're not, Y/N."
A lot of his insecurities slipped into those words. But I never held that against him.
He got me back to my room and helped me inside the small space.
He carefully sat me down on the bed.
He didn't even realize his hand had stayed against my lower back the entire time. Abner watched me closely.
I was hurting too much to hide it anymore. I leaned forward as another sharp cramp hit my stomach.
"Oww!"
He flinched at the sound. But this wasn't the time for him to panic.
He rested his hand against my lower back again and leaned down so we were eye level.
"Is there something I can do to help the... the cramps?"
I shook my head and groaned into my hands as the pain reached its peak.
"Shhh," he whispered gently near my ear.
He wrapped one arm around my waist, hoping it would comfort me somehow. I took a slow, shaky breath.
"Okay..."
He smiled just a little. "That's good."
He didn't want to move me too quickly.
He was afraid he'd somehow make it worse.
So instead, he carefully guided me until I was lying back against the bed.
He brushed his fingers lightly against my arm before tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
A tiny smile crossed his face.
Then he caught himself.
"You sure you're okay? Is it like this every time?"
He didn't want to overwhelm me with questions.
He just wanted to understand. I shook my head.
"It's just a bad month," I explained.
"I'll be right back." He stood almost immediately.
His sudden departure surprised me.
I stayed where I was, finally finding a position that eased the pain just enough that I didn't want to move.
He was gone for several minutes. For a moment, I worried he wasn't coming back.
His presence somehow made the pain feel easier to deal with.
Then the door opened again.
He walked back in holding a small paper plate with both hands.
A slice of cake.
Something he'd quickly grabbed from the cafeteria before anyone else could.
He smiled awkwardly as he sat beside the bed and carefully placed the plate near me.
I smiled a little, my head still resting on the pillow.
"I know it's not your favorite flavor out of everything, but... I've heard sweet things help."
I pushed myself up onto one elbow and pulled the paper plate closer.
Using the little plastic fork, I took a small bite.
He watched me carefully.
Waiting. Looking for any change in my expression.
I smiled a little more.
"It's good."
He smiled too and let out a quiet sigh of relief. But as he watched me continue eating, that smile slowly faded.
Worry settled across his face, this was going to last all night.
Probably tomorrow, too, and he wanted to make it better.
He just didn't know how. I caught him staring. He leaned forward. The awkwardness that usually surrounded him disappeared completely.
Like something inside him had finally stopped overthinking. Though his hand shook slightly: He gently cupped the side of my face and leaned closer. His lips met mine softly.
There was no rush. No pressure. Just a gentle kiss meant to reassure both of us.
He practically dragged me along on this one, saying it wasn't so intense now that I was his new partner.
He noticed, himself, that he got along more with women than other men. He was glad that I was his partner, but today wasn't the day for me.
He pulled me into the train station. "Okay..." he said quietly to himself as he checked his watch.
He was wearing those fake glasses and that stupid hat. I sigh. "What are we doing in Japan?"
He looked at me before going back to his watch. "The bullet train. There's a case left in there for us. We need to grab it and get it off."
I smile a little, unamused. "Really? That's it? What, is there a bomb in it?"
He looked upward like he was looking for a sign, exasperated. "If there was, you wouldn't be here."
"You think I can't handle something like that, do you?" I groan slightly and lean against the tiled wall, putting my hands in my jean pockets.
"I trust you. I do. But I just don't want you getting hurt," he explained as he looked down at me.
He was calm, but I've seen him on days where he needed to breathe into a bag just to calm himself.
Ladybug had a "bad luck" issue he always talked about. Even when he tried to stay positive, it always backfired.
Then, just as I looked up from my shoes, the train slowed on the tracks. He didn't hesitate to grab my hand and step through the sliding door.
I wanted to pull away from his grip, but he insisted on keeping his eyes on me. He was scared for me, not anymore for himself.
He led me down the cars. I was praying in my head that we wouldn't be walking around so much, that we'd be able to actually sit down.
He felt how slow I was going when he felt a tug on his hand. He finally stopped to look at me. "You okay?" He looked me up and down.
I nod a little. "Just wanna get this over with."
He nodded once, like he didn't believe me. I scratched the stubble on his face and looked around. Not many people in this car. Could be an advantage.
"Here. Let's just chill for a second. We don't want anyone to suspect anything." He gestured to the empty seats.
He sat across from me.
"Are there other people looking for the case?" I ask.
He sighed and took off those fake glasses, rubbing his eyes. "Maybe."
I raise an eyebrow. "Maybe?"
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, leaning back as he stretched. "Yes, okay. So we have two people on our tails."
I eyed him and shook my head. He corrected himself. "It's okay! They don't even know what we look like. We're safe. Just take it one car at a time."
I thought to myself, the way I am right now, having my period and how painful and aching it is, I didn't think I could do this. How long would it take to find the case? How long would it be until those two other assassins he was talking about found us?
Ladybug tilted his head a little at me. He recognized that look, but soon realized it wasn't stress or fear. This was utter exhaustion.
"You sure you're okay? You seem a little pale." He wanted to touch me, my knee or my arm, but held back.
I nodded a little and leaned back in my seat. "Not feeling well. I think I'm going to use the bathroom. If a service cart comes by, I want something to eat."
Ladybug nodded and watched as I stood up. He felt conflicted. Maybe I was in pain. He saw me wince.
Now he was overthinking, or he thought he was.
I found the bathroom, unoccupied. I entered and shut the door. A warm light shined on the interior. It smelled nice, at least.
I unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down a little to assess my underwear. Was I bleeding through?
There wasn't any accident. I sigh to myself. "Fuck."
I felt the ache again. I winced and gripped the edge of the sink. I tried to breathe through that sharp pain in my stomach, my hips being affected too.
I need to push myself, to help him on this. I needed to shut everything else out, but it felt almost impossible.
I finally came out of the bathroom and headed back to the car I left.
He was still in his seat, biting the inside of his cheek as he looked at his phone.
I came back and sat down.
He looked up from his phone before putting it down. "You okay?" he asked softly, like he was tiptoeing past a sensitive bomb.
He knew when a woman said she didn't feel well and she obviously wasn't in a perfect mood. That meant something hormonal.
He never blamed hormones on my emotions. They were real to him, but he still couldn't deny it was the only logical explanation.
"Are you..." He fell into a whisper. "Having cramps?" He leaned forward.
I blush and cover my face. "I'm going to punch you right in the nose."
He knew that was a yes. He sat back again. "It's okay. It's not like it's the worst possible thing in the world."
Crap.
That was the wrong thing to say. He corrected himself immediately. "...I actually have this really bad cramp in my leg."
He grabbed his calf.
I gave him a look.
He brought his hand back up. "Not comparing experiences..."
I exhaled quietly. "Just perfect timing."
He got sympathetic. This was important to him for some reason.
When the service cart rolled by, he raised his hand slightly and smiled at the woman pushing it. "Can I get some dark chocolate?" he smiled.
The woman nodded kindly. She couldn't speak English but understood it well. She handed him a black-wrapped bar of dark chocolate as he dug into his pocket and pulled out the money she asked for.
When she pulled away, he gave me the chocolate bar. He was a little awkward but wanted to be supportive and show he cared about my pain.
"Thank you..." I said quietly, looking down at the chocolate.
He smiled a little and looked around. "You sure you're okay for this? I can call and..."
"Please don't tell them I can't do the mission because of stupid period cramps." I was embarrassed.
He got slightly defensive. "If you talk to yourself like that, you're gonna have a hard time."
I gave him a look again. "Wanna try bleeding for about 160 hours?"
He winced, not because he was embarrassed, but because that did sound like hell. He sighed.
"Okay. That was the wrong thing to say. Eat the chocolate. It'll help the pain." He stood up from his seat.
"I'm going to find that case. Stay here."
He tried walking away but turned back again. He wanted to ask me something.
I already knew what it was. I lifted my shirt to show my firearm tucked underneath my jeans.
He smirked a little and nodded once.
Damn.
He went to find that case. He could admit it would be faster with my help, but I was in pain.
It would kill him to make me push through that.
I took a couple bites of the chocolate and let it melt on my tongue.
My eyes got heavy. I was more exhausted than normal, and lately the pain wouldn't let me sleep. But I felt better after the chocolate. Calmer.
I fell asleep.
It was almost an hour before Ladybug came back and spotted me curled up, attempting to sleep. Maybe I was successful.
He tilted his head at me and bit his lip. Should he wake me? No.
He sat down and watched me, then noticed how weird it would be to just stare. But he couldn't help it.
He watched me for a moment longer before I woke up. My eyes fluttered open and I lifted my head from the lopsided position I was in.
He quickly looked away, acting like he wasn't just staring at me in my sleep.
But I didn't notice. I winced. I felt hot and queasy. My period did that to me sometimes.
He immediately noticed the shift in my expression. He leaned forward and hesitated to touch me. His hands hovered over my knees.
"Are you okay?"
I gasped in pain, holding my breath and squeezing my eyes shut.
He immediately got into action. This was bad pain. Something he'd never felt, but had an idea of how it could feel.
He helped me stand up. "Let's get to the bathroom. You're not puking all over my shoes." He wanted to lighten the situation.
He led me down the car, trying not to draw attention. Not because he was embarrassed, but because it would be too much for me in the moment.
We got into the bathroom. He immediately locked the door, and I wasted no time vomiting into the toilet, sitting on the floor.
He winced and knelt next to me.
Unsure if he should touch my back, my hair? He mentally cursed at himself.
DO SOMETHING!
He slowly moved his hand from the middle of my back upward, gently rubbing it over and over until I calmed down.
I took a deep breath, the first one in a while after the pain made me vomit so violently.
I leaned back from the toilet and sighed. A little sweaty on my forehead.
His brows furrowed sympathetically. "Feel better?"
I nod. "Yeah." I rested my head on my hand and closed my eyes.
Ladybug leaned forward to pull off his jacket, leaving him in that white T-shirt he thought he lost that morning, going on and on again about the bad luck he had.
He was awkwardly silent for a couple of minutes, thinking maybe I didn't want noise, or maybe I wanted someone to talk to me.
He looked at the toilet. There were so many buttons he'd never seen before. He squinted at one button, written in Japanese he didn't understand.
He glanced back at me. Both of us on the floor in the bathroom, a quiet area that was peaceful for me.
"Should we go back to our seats or..."
I immediately shook my head without opening my eyes. He nodded and fell silent again.
"Should I help you find the case?" I ask.
He shook his head. "I can do it by myself. I just thought... you know, bad timing."
"I feel so embarrassed," I admitted.
He shook his head immediately and scooted closer to me. "It's not a big deal. I understand."
"We have to find that case, and I'm throwing up inside a train bathroom." I groaned at myself and stood up.
He immediately stood up as well. He was quick to take one of my arms.
"Slow down, y/n. You're gonna kill me."
He looked back at the closed door. "You sure you can do this?"
"I got it... I'm not going to be slow if that's what you're worried about," I said.
He watched me for a second, scanning my expression. "Okay... Okay, fine, but if you faint, I'm not helping you."
I eyed him slightly, smiling.
"Of course I'm going to help you," he finally admitted. "Come on."
He led me out of the bathroom. He looked left, then right. "Okay, the case is silver. It has a train sticker on its handle."
I nodded slowly. "And we still don't know what's in it?"
He shook his head and put his hand on his hip. "No. We just need to find it and get off the train."
"So we still aren't thinking about the possibility of there being a bomb in there?" I shook my head at him.
He shrugged. "Just follow me and don't go anywhere. You can be slippery sometimes."
I smiled a little. He could be right sometimes about that.
He didn't really want to take his eyes off me, but he needed to find that case.
He wanted to make sure he wasn't going too fast for me, making sure I was keeping up. My pain was manageable. He didn't understand that yet.
He was worried I would faint or get lost.
But without a doubt, he would quit this mission just to make sure he wasn't pushing me.
Ladybug didn't want to admit he liked me, for whatever reason he was feeling, and that this brought him even closer to that feeling. He couldn't admit it did something to him.
synopsis: Ohm finds that his feelings for you are in conflict between believing and being his skeptical self... but his love for you proves him wrong
warnings: psychological horror, night terrors, paranormal encounter, blood, claustrophobic situation, strong language, fear and panic, relationship conflict, kissing, typos
-
Ohm didn't believe in monsters. I never asked him about that, something I believe in. Even that strange man, Jerry, whom he met after spreading his parents' ashes.
Ohm didn't tell me about Jerry.
He sat at the bar in the hotel, and I sat near his other seat. We didn't talk about the kiss in the woods, my night terror, or anything else I felt beforehand. He acted almost like it didn't happen this morning...
I lean forward slightly to catch Ohm's eye. "You really don't believe the honeymoon suite is haunted?"
Ohm sighs into his glass and puts it down. "No, I don't."
Classic Ohm, he was always so skeptical about the unknown. Then again, I couldn't blame him... I thought about it for almost six full minutes. Staying quiet for Ohm was like trying not to cough when the urge was strong. Impossible.
Till I saw Alby Connell again, the bellboy. I smiled at him, and he smiled back. "Oh, hello! How are you two settling in?"
Ohm glances at him from his whisky and sets the glass down. "Good..." He recognized the bellboy, whom he thought he was.
I glance at Ohm's expression; I don't want Alby to think anything of it. "We're good... It's very cold in the mornings, though."
Alby chuckles and nods. "It is quite crisp here in Ireland." He couldn't help but look back at Ohm.
Ohm side-eyed him from his whisky. "If this is about my book."
Alby laughs. "Oh dear, no! I just... Well, overheard you two talking about the honeymoon suite."
I smiled and nodded. "Yes, I was told it was haunted."
Alby nods. "Well, I have my own experience with that. They say it's a witch. You see, I was standing by the elevator; you know, before the suite was closed off. I heard something; I didn't have a flashlight but a lighter in my pocket."
Alby cleared his throat and looked around, as if telling that story was a secret, or maybe he was embarrassed. "I saw something... It was pale and—well, the tales say you draw a circle of chalk around yourself... for protection. "
Ohm cut him off. "She's already having a rough time sleeping through the night. She doesn't need to hear that."
I roll my eyes and hit Ohm's shoulder before turning back to Connell. He seemed apologetic in his expression.
I reassure him, "He's exaggerating."
Alby spoke a bit more gently. "It's all fun and games...I'm sure it was nothing."
I scoff, "No, I believe you."
Ohm chuckles, unamused, into his glass. Alby gave a nervous nod. "It's best I be off."
"Thank you, Connell." I thanked him for what he shared with me. He seemed vulnerable doing so.
Connell gave a tilt of his hat before leaving us.
I turn back to Ohm. "You need to stop being so rude to him."
"He wants to be a writer," he told me. I'm just giving him some thick skin. "Ohm took off his glasses to clean them on his flannel shirt.
I shook my head, disappointed. "That doesn't mean excuse him; he seemed very insecure sharing that with me. He got to the very important part before you shooed him off."
Ohm smirked. "If I were being chased by a witch, I'd find a psychiatrist, not a piece of chalk."
I shook my head. "Do you believe in anything you can't explain, or is that just when you write so you can just brag to me about how it comes from experience? We both know that's a lie."
Here we went off again... Fighting like we did when we arrived. Ohm just looked at me for a moment, nothing to say... Damn. "Clearly, you didn't sleep very well." He finally blurted out.
I scoffed and got off the chair near his. "Screw you, Ohm."
He watched me leave; he took another small sip of his whisky and put the glass down on the wood... The cold glass was making a wet ring around his pinky— He thought he was too hard on me, too hard on everyone, to be completely honest. Then, about the kiss, he was being an idiot now.
It was a longer night than last. But we didn't have anything to do the next morning. So when Ohm came into the room, only the bedside lamp was on— casting a warm glow into the room as I was turned on my side, sleeping already.
Ohm sighs to himself and slowly changes into his pajamas... All we shared was a kiss; why did he imagine he'd find me in his bed? He took off his glasses and placed them down on the wooden table as he got into bed.
It was only about three am when I woke up; I thought I was dreaming...it felt like a dream. But when I walked out of our room into the hall, barefoot and barely walking straight, Ohms' eyes fluttered open to see me turn out of sight.
He puts his glasses on; he groans as he gets out of bed. "Y/n." He said under his breath.
He peeked out into the hall. Was he sleepwalking? No, I was completely awake... But I thought I was dreaming. Something was leading me, and I didn't understand; I was too tired.
Ohm follows me. "Y/n!" He tries to whisper, calling for me as I turn the corner down the hall towards the closed elevator.
I didn't hear him, my bare feet on the soft red rug.
Ohm ran up behind me. "y/n." He touched my shoulder.
I jumped slightly, gasping. He took his hand away fast. "Hey...it's me."
I look up at him, then at the elevator... Closed off as it should be. "I thought I was dreaming."
He nodded a little. "This is exactly why we got one room. Come on." He gently took my arm, tired, annoyed—not at me, at least not this time.… Already on it to guide me back to our room.
We ran into Alby on our way. Alby looked up from his notepad, a little surprised. "Oh, hello, y/n, Ohm." He nods to him.
Alby noticed my sleepy expression. "Oh dear, she's very drowsy; is she well?" Alby asks.
Ohm nodded; he just wanted to get back to the room, his hand still around my arm. "Yes, she's fine..." He walked past Alby.
Connell nodded a little and watched me walk slowly to our door. "Give her my wishes!" He called.
Ohm ignores "fuck." He was tired as he got me back into bed. He thought about it for a moment; he's seen me sleepwalk before, have night terrors, and so much more— This was different.
He got me underneath the covers. "Just... Try not to walk off for the rest of the night, okay?" He took off his glasses to rub his eyes.
It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, though the occasional stressor of me getting up again kept him awake every hour... Until around dawn, I was out of my bed when he woke.
He jumped up. The room door was closed; there was a faint scent of perfume, and my luggage was a mess again... Maybe I had already gotten up.
I was downstairs, sitting on one of the guests' sofas near the bar, a hot chocolate in both my hands. I was dressed warmly and cozily. The steam of the hot chocolate kept me warm in the cold, roomy lobby.
I heard footsteps; I looked up. "Oh, hey, Alby."
Alby smiles a little. "Sorry to be a bother. But I saw you and Ohm last night in the hall?"
I tried to think, 'Last night was a blur.' Yeah, sorry about that... I was sleepwalking, and he had to take me back to our room."
Alby nodded and looked around the empty lobby. "Of course. I'm glad he did. Are you under the weather?"
I shake my head and smile calmly. "No, I've always sleepwalked and done all the above, I believe."
He chuckles, "You know, we call people like you 'clairvoyants.' You feel things deeply, unlike others," he said matter-of-factly. "You think you felt something, and that's why you chose to walk out of your room?"
I smile a little. "I had a weird feeling about this place anyway. More after you told me about the haunted suite."
Alby nods. "What did you feel, if I may ask?"
"I felt... Strange, uncomfortable," I replied.
Before Alby could speak further, Ohm came hoeing behind him. He was dressed. "I thought I said to stop bringing this up."
Alby glanced at him before looking back at me. Nervously. I stood up, holding my hot mug still in both my hands. "Ignore him, Alby."
I walk past both of them to put my mug on the bar counter. Ohm raised a brow; he didn't care. Alby didn't even look back at him after that.
I look back at Ohm. "So you're basically saying you don't believe me?"
Ohm sighs and rubs his eyes under his glasses. "I never said that."
"Then tell me how you feel about it."
Alby stood awkwardly in the corner, thinking maybe he should walk away. Ohm looked back at me as he fixed his glasses.
"I think you're really tired from jet lag," Ohm replied finally.
I scoff. "See? You don't believe me."
"I'm trying to think logically," Ohm said.
"Was the kiss in the woods logical, or did you do it to shut me up?" I ask... My hands slightly shook at my sides.
Ohm felt stunned for a moment, but he shook it off. "I—" He got cut off by Mal grabbing the keys to lock up the front desk.
Ohm came to him, away from the bar near the staircase. "What's going on?"
Mal looked up, keys jangling in his palm. "Closed for the season. I hope you remembered to pack your bags." He chuckles.
But then Mal saw how serious Ohm looked. "Oh, you have plenty of time. I can ask Alby to—"
Ohm shook his head. "No thanks. I've got it."
Ohm turned back to me, still by the bar. Alby wasn't speaking to me, but Ohm knew he was being unfair.
Ohm walked back to me. "We need to pack the car. Get on the next flight out."
He didn't give me time to reply when he walked back over to the staircase and went up. I sigh to myself and turn back to Alby.
"I'm still really curious to find out more," I whisper to him.
Alby looked around. "Well, the honeymoon key is right there..." He gestures to the front, past the staircase.
A wall of keys took keys. There was one key with a red heart attached to it... That was the one. I turned back to Alby. "Are you suggesting I... break in?"
Alby bit his cheek, nervous. "You didn't get it from me. But I went up there once."
"What did you see?" I ask.
"It's not what I saw... It's what I didn't get enough time to see." Alby explained. "There's a dumbwaiter; past that, there's a basement... I saw something in the basement, just looking up at me."
I nodded a little, believing every word. The pit of my stomach felt like it was getting deeper.
"Do you have any more information on that room?" I ask Alby.
Alby nodded; he wasn't so tense now that Ohm had gone upstairs to the room. "Unfortunately, I don't know so much... But I do know someone who does."
I got a little closer. "Yes?"
Alby looked around, and then his eyes landed on me. "His name is Jerry. He lives around here in the woods, in a van." Alby smiles a little.
"He's a bit—" he gestures, "—but I imagine he knows more than I do."
I smile at him. "Thank you, Alby." I hug him.
He took it by surprise, but he didn't hesitate to give a hug back.
Once I pulled away, I immediately ran upstairs, but I ran into Ohm, dragging four carry-ons. He sighs at me, almost a groan. "Want to help me?"
I hesitated; I took my two carry-ons. "Ohm?"
He drags them down the steps, with a loud thump every time the baggage hits the wooden staircase. "What?"
He didn't want to listen, but I answered anyway. "I really want to take a stop, you know, near the hotel. I want to meet someone."
Ohm rolled his eyes at the front door of the hotel, his car parked just outside near all the employees' cars. "We have to get on a plane."
"We don't even have the tickets!" I said.
Ohm eyed me slightly, giving me that look. He opens the trunk; it creaks. "Are we near the hotel?" It's all forest and—"
"It's someone in the woods I want to meet," I explained.
Ohm turned his body towards me. "Alby tell you another story or something? Besides, that's a sure way to get murdered."
I exhaled and said, "Come on."
Ohm grabbed my luggage and put it in the back. "What's so important?"
"I want to understand. I have a feeling something's not right," I said to Ohm as I came closer to him.
Ohm just looked down at me; he took a moment to respond. He rolls his eyes again and gestures to the car. "Who is it?"
"His name is Jerry."
Ohm sighs, "Yeah, I know him."
"And you didn't tell me?" I hit his shoulder.
Ohm winced. "Ow! Okay... He's just strange. I ran into him the first couple of days here."
"You know where he is?" I ask.
Ohm sighs, his breath seen as a cloud in the cold weather. "If he didn't move locations, sure. But this doesn't mean I believe there's a witch in that hotel."
I smiled a little. "I never said you did."
He couldn't believe he was doing this, but thinking about what I said about our kiss and how he made me feel about all of this, he didn't see a way out of it.
He led me past some large logs and wet leaves that stuck to the bottom of his shoes.
He couldn't believe he was doing this.
Ohm looked around, and just by that little sheer luck, he saw Jerry's van. He shook his head and looked back at me; I tried to walk in front of him.
Ah—" He grabbed my arm. "Just let me... go first." He didn't trust Jerry that much, but that was Ohm.
He might have been smarter not to trust him. "Jerry?" he called.
He went around the van, covered in mildew. Suddenly, Jerry popped out of the doors, making me and Ohm jump. "Shit," Ohm exhaled.
I stayed slightly behind Ohm. Jerry smiled at the familiar face. The red-bearded man wore a hat to keep warm, his fingers dirty, but something about his eyes showed he was kind.
"What're you doing out here??" Jerry asks, clearly happy to have company. He got a glimpse of me. "You never said you had a lady friend."
Ohm sighs, "Yeah—"
Jerry cut him off, smiling at me. "What's your name?"
"Y/n," I replied. I smile at him.
Jerry smiled back before focusing his gaze on Ohm. "She's a pretty thing."
Ohm cut him off with the wave of his hand. "Look, Alby told her that you have more information on the honeymoon suite."
Jerry took a moment to process that. "Yes, I do."
"Good, she won't let me leave till you explain it to her." Ohm tilted his head to me.
I step forward. "I don't think it's anything spiritual."
Jerry waved me off, walking back towards his van. "Of course it's spiritual; otherwise you wouldn't be feeling it." Pulled out a milk bottle, but it was filled with clear fluid.
"What is it then?" I ask Jerry, following him.
Ohm wanted to stop me. But he'd get nowhere if he did.
Jerry took a drink of whatever was in that bottle. "Well," he cleared his throat.
"My late wife showed me what was in there," Jerry explained. "It's a woman, Fiona; she used to work at the hotel. My old friend... It was her ghost speaking to me."
"The woman who went kissing a couple of days before Ohm and I showed up?"
Jerry nods.
Ohm cut in, "Okay, that's enough. What is up with you people?"
I roll my eyes. "You can't tell me you don't feel like something strange is happening!"
Jerry wants me and Ohm to fight. He shakes his head. "These things are real, you know, just people with closed minds who can't see them."
Ohm glared at him. "Were you drinking your magic milk when you saw it?"
Jerry smiles and laughs. "Yes, I was."
"So you were drunk and hallucinating?" Ohm said.
"I saw it because my mind was open!" Jerry handed me his bottle.
Ohm rushes to snatch it from me. "Don't drink that."
I groan at him, "Why won't you just listen?"
"Because he was drunk!" Ohm snapped.
Jerry smiled slightly at me. "She's got an already open mind by gift."
Ohm, put the bottle down. "Yeah, that's what Alby said."
Jerry sighs, "I feel it too. There's something wrong. You can get in there if you really want to."
I nodded a little. "I know where the key is."
Ohm closed his eyes. "We aren't breaking into the fucking honeymoon suite!"
I smiled a little and turned to him. "Just a couple of minutes." I wasn't asking.
Ohm looked back at Jerry. "So we just go in there and what? Find a dead body or a—a witch."
Jerry looked back at me like I was the only logical one. "Trust me. Fiona is telling me something." He put his finger to his temple.
"Fine, let's just get this over with." Ohm tried to walk past Jerry.
Jerry grabs his arm, not harshly. "You need to wait till night."
Ohm turned his head to me, giving me that "you're kidding me" look.
But he did it. He waited ... and waited as long as it took for it to be the right time to do anything, for that matter. All he was going to do was sit next to me as Jerry lay on his coat, looking up at the stars.
Ohm glanced at me. "It's not that I don't believe you."
I looked at him as well. "I know. You just have a closed mind."
He heard the teasing in my voice; he almost smiled.
He never spoke about a lot of things, even if he was friends for a long time, even when he kissed... I couldn't stop thinking about it, even if I felt like he didn't mean it.
I was wrong.
He thought of it, too, and never asked me about it again. Not after that... And he did mean it.
Jerry finally stood up, breaking the silence. "I think Mal left by now."
I stood up with Ohm beside me.
We were actually doing it. But part of me was doing it for Jerry's friend Fiona. I believed him.
Jerry had helped us get into the hotel, quiet and empty, almost creepy.
Jerry snuck around the front desk to grab the honeymoon key. He then gave it to me and pointed up. "Oh, and this is very important!"
He reached into the pocket of his dirty coat and pulled out a small, broken piece of white chalk.
I nodded and took the chalk. "Thank you," I whispered.
Jerry nodded at my kind gesture. Ohm was slowly growing trust in him. But this was all made up to him... He sighed at the chalk clutched in my hand.
Once we unlocked the elevator up to the honeymoon suite, it all felt unbearable, the suspense of what we'd find, even if he didn't want to admit to himself that he felt strange, too.
We reached the door; he didn't hesitate to open it. Maybe he wanted to get this done as fast as possible.
"Are you scared?" I ask him.
Ohm glanced at me. "No."
We walked in; I didn't believe him. But I was scared myself.
It was dark, dirty, and dusty, with a bed across the way in another room. The canopy bed was dirty as well; the sheets were grey, far from the white color they were supposed to be.
Small stone children lined the fireplace and the shelves. A smell, a bad smell, got worse as we got closer to the bathroom connected to the bedroom...
The large bath, black water, smelled rotted and dirty. We both wanted to get away from it... But that feeling got worse when I spotted the dumbwaiter Alby was talking about.
I walked towards it. Ohm tried to stop me.
"y/n!"
I opened the door; the dumbwaiter was down there... All the way. I looked around for a button or a switch to operate it.
Ohm grabbed my arm. "Stop touching things."
"Ohm, there's something down there," I explained.
Ohm let out a heavy sigh. "Did Jerry tell you that?"
I look back up at him. "Alby did... And I mean it."
He saw how serious I actually was; I wasn't teasing anymore... I wasn't making a joke.
He looked down at the dumbwaiter...
He looked around for the button or switch I was looking for around the edges.
Ohm saw the small button on the side and pressed it...there was no hesitation for him anymore. He felt something was off.
The dumbwaiter went up slowly.... Till it reaches the top. There was a smear of blood right in the top right corner.
I tried to get a closer look. "Hey, no," he pulled my arm. "Get off of it."
"I'm just trying to look," I said.
"I know, but this probably isn't—"
"It has a chain; it's fine." I cut him off. I lean forward, placing both my hands on the wood inside the dumbwaiter. It was blood; I confirmed our suspicions.
Ohm's breath hitched. "Okay, we need to leave. Now."
"Wait... We need to get into the basement."
"Did you take a drink from Jerry?" Ohm sounded serious, angry.
"No!" I snap. "Just take me seriously for once."
"Why do you think we're up here?" Ohm exclaimed.
"Because you just want to go home, you knew I wouldn't leave without—" Something interrupted me.
There was a sound, a scratching sound coming from below the dumbwaiter... It was faint but noticeable by both of us.
"What if she's down there?"
"Now you're—" We got interrupted again.
The dumbwaiter started going down; Ohm didn't press the button. But it did anyway.
When it stopped back down into the basement, there was silence... It was too quiet. Ohm glanced at me; his pulse picked up.
This wasn't explainable to him.
The chain on the dumbwaiter shook as it buzzed back up. Getting closer.
Ohm immediately shut the door in front of the waiter and held onto my hand; we took a couple of steps back... This wasn't real. Ohm wanted to convince himself that.
I clench my jaw, my eyes wide and set on the oncoming waiter. Then...
It got to the top; we knew that when it fell silent again... It was too dark; my eyes played tricks on me.
But this was real... And it was happening.
"What the hell is that?!" I yell.
There was a pair of pale, long fingers. Ohm didn't hesitate to run to the door, pulling me with him.
But the door was locked from the outside... How? Ohm banged on the door. "JERRY!" he calls.
I grip Ohm's sleeve. "Ohm," I say, my voice quiet, shaking.
Ohm turned his gaze back to the dumbwaiter... The door opened. The pale fingers wrapped around the edge.
There was an enigmatic entity, the long grey hair over the shoulders of the being... It smiles at us almost like it loves us, scared.
The teeth on this being weren't normal, unlike the rest of it. Sharp and uncanny.
Ohm was panting hard. I gasped when he pulled me towards the other side; he led me to the bedroom and shut the door to that side...
Locking it. He immediately stood back; I was on the verge of tears.
I was confused and scared; I didn't understand. "Now do you believe me?!"
Ohm didn't answer; he watched the door.... It was quiet again. Then the scratching continues over the wooden door.
Ohm stepped back and held onto my hand, but the scratching got uncomfortably close to the right... There, the bathroom door connected to the bedroom.
Ohm ran fast to that door and locked it. Before he saw the fingers of the entity scratch the glass, it was teasing us.
"Ohm!" I pulled out the chalk.
Ohm turned his head fast towards me. What other option did he have? Ohm took it from my sweaty hand and got on his knees.
I watched the bathroom door... There was a missing tile of stained glass, right by the doorknob.
Ohm began drawing a circle around the bed... He tried to do it fast. His hand slipped a couple times.
"Ohm..." I shook in terror when the pale hand of the entity reached through that missing tile and tried the knob.
It tried the lock soon after...
"GET ON THE BED!" Ohm shouted, finishing the circle around them.
He got on the dirty bed as well; he pulled me again to him at the sound of the door unlocking and opening.
I started crying; a tear fell both my cheeks when I realized how fucked up this actually was. Why was this happening? And worse, I got us into this.
Ohm saw the figure outside of the thin curtains surrounding the bed. It didn't go past the chalk circle.
But it smiled again at us... creepily as it walked around the bed...
Ohm gently grabbed my face, wanting me to look at him. "Look at me—look!"
I cried silently, his hands cupping my jaw at both sides. We were close.
"Don't look at it." He said gently. He pulled me closer to him on the bed. He put my head against his chest, away from view.
This was no longer made up to him; this was real. This was happening, and all he could think about was how to protect me...
He held me close against him and shushed me gently.
The fear of it all, the adrenaline, hit us at once.
We didn't remember falling asleep. On that bed.
We didn't remember why we got so tired, thinking the fear would keep us up long enough till morning.
We didn't find Fiona. All that found us was a witch. I was still worried Ohm wouldn't believe what had happened... He'd shut down every possible idea that what we experienced was real.
Ohm woke up; first, the Irish sun shone a soft orange into the once-dark room. I was against him, sleeping... Tears stained my cheeks.
He gently moves me and scoots to the edge of the bed, where he opens the dirty curtains.
Nothing... He looked around.
Nothing.
He finally stepped off the bed... Hesitant to step out of the circle.
I woke up, my eyes fluttering open. I shot up at the feeling of Ohm not next to me. "Ohm?"
Ohm glanced back at me. "It's okay. It's gone."
I shake my head. "No..."
Ohm nodded gently and held out his hand. "It's okay."
I slowly scooted towards him and took his hand. We were both a mess, physically and mentally.
But then the door opened... We both jumped. But it was just Mal.
He sighs at both of us. "Now what in the hell are you two doing up here?"
Ohm took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. "We were just—"
Mal shook his head. "Yes, a young couple like you. Well, not so young on Ohm's part," he sighs. "Now whichever one of you has the key..."
He extended his hand out, a silent ask for the key.
Ohm dug into his jeans pocket and pulled out the key he wanted. He put it in Mal's palm.
Mal sighs again. "If you two could please..."
I slowly got all the way off the bed; my hair was in all sorts of different ways. Mal didn't bat an eye even though his suspicion was wrong.
Ohm rubbed his head slightly, peeking past Mal to the dumbwaiter... closed again. Like, whatever just happened never happened. But Ohm knew better.
Ohm and I took silent glances at each other; that bad feeling didn't get any better...
Ohm saw that confusion in my eyes and that desperate need to know more.
But as of right now, all he could give back to me was reassurance that whatever had happened, he wouldn't stop till we both understood.
Once Mal annoyingly put the key back where it belonged, we were escorted to Ohm's car. Ohm kissed me again, not as intensely as the last time, but something to say he was sorry.
I accept it.
‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊‧ my writing, do not steal or repost as your own
I came into work, or I think I did. I don't remember anything before that, ever. But according to my "boss," I chose to be here. I chose to stay. My innie didn't want this job, but my outie did, and I hated myself for that.
I walked in, as always, down the long white hallway, turning corner after corner until I reached the office.
The green floor I never liked, and the cubbies. Next to mine was Mark, always the second to arrive before Irving.
"You decided to come in? I thought you were going to play hookie," Mark said, not looking up from his computer.
I roll my eyes. We fought frequently, even though he's the only reason I actually like this place. I'd never admit that to myself, though.
"Obviously I didn't remember," I replied.
He smiled a little. The thing about innies and outies was that they had their perks.
"It's nice to see you." He finally turned in his chair.
I glanced over the cubicle wall. "Yeah?" I looked into his eyes.
He nodded and looked back at his computer, ignoring my gaze.
"I'd ask what you did over the weekend, but I don't remember leaving myself." Mark chuckled.
Dylan looked over his cubicle at Mark's stupid joke and sighed.
Mark rolled his eyes at Dylan. "What? Your outie speaking to you today?" Mark teased.
"Matter of fact..." Dylan started.
He waited for a response. Only me and Mark stared at him.
Finally, Dylan scoffed. "Obviously not."
Mark shrugged. "You never know."
Mark was never one for breaking the rules. Part of that was trying to remember things, and if you did, it was off to the break room where they gaslighted you over and over, or so I've been told. Never been there.
Mark glanced at me. I didn't remember that my outie had left in a hurry, and I didn't know why.
"You okay? You seem a little pale."
Mark had spotted something only my outie knew.
I looked at him. No scary numbers anymore.
"Don't know. I mean... yeah, I'm fine." I shrugged.
Mark nodded once, like he didn't believe me. Pushing me would achieve nothing, so he looked back at his computer.
Irving finally arrived, saying the usual.
"Hey kids, what's for dinner?"
I rolled my eyes. It always itched my brain when he said that, but then I got a sudden pain in my stomach.
I bit my lip and couldn't contain myself.
"Ow!"
I groaned slightly as I leaned forward. I stood up immediately, not wanting to see the watchful eyes on me.
I headed toward the bathroom.
Irving sat down and fixed his tie. "is she okay?
Mark stood up and scooted back in his chair. "I'll go find her."
Dylan cut in. "That's your job. Don't act like you don't need to."
Mark waved him off as he walked to the door.
Mark knocked on the bathroom door.
"Are you okay? You seemed a little angry today. And... is your stomach hurting or something?"
"And that's new? And obviously..." I said through the door from a locked stall.
He bit the inside of his cheek.
"Yeah, well... you're more agitated this time."
"I don't remember. I can't remember, Mark!" I snapped, covering my face with my hands.
Mark felt genuinely sympathetic. Whatever was bothering me seemed to be connected to my outie, too.
Mark leaned against the door. He checked his watch once.
Twice.
I've been in here for almost sixteen minutes. Soon it'll be twenty.
"Look, I know something is bothering you. Is it the job?" he asked gently.
I started to cry. Though he couldn't see me, he could hear me through the door.
I forgot something. I know I did.
Would it be breaking the rules to remember why I felt so achy? So annoyed and impatient?
"Go away, Mark, please," I sobbed.
Mark checked his watch.
"I can't. I'm in charge of you."
"Even in the bathroom?" I asked through tears.
"If you're taking more than ten minutes in the bathroom, yeah."
I looked up at the ceiling, hoping to find an answer there.
Then another stabbing pain hit my stomach.
I had a feeling and went along with it. I pulled my underwear down beneath my skirt and saw blood staining the inner fabric.
Fuck.
"Mark, I..."
I stopped myself.
"...Yeah?"
I held back another awful sob.
Why does this have to happen to me? Like I'm living in a hell my other body wants me to be in, and I can't even remember why.
"What's wrong?" Mark asked again.
I must have gotten my period, and when I came to work I wasn't prepared.
Maybe I knew it was going to start, but why didn't I remember to prepare?
What do I do?
I got myself situated. The bleeding was only light.
I came out of the stall and walked to the sink.
"Look, I'm... I'm going to come in," Mark finally said.
"What? No."
I turned off the running water.
Mark sighed to himself.
"Sorry."
He barged through the door.
"Mark!" I yelled.
He opened his eyes just enough to make sure I was decent.
I was, but he could clearly see something was wrong.
"You okay?"
"You already asked. I already said I'm fine."
I leaned my hip against the counter.
Mark nodded slightly and watched my body language. I was stiff, pale, and slightly sweaty.
"You can tell me what's wrong. Is this about your outie?"
I bit my lip. I wanted to explain.
"I just... my outie was expecting my period. I arrived here and forgot."
He nodded as I spoke, understanding.
He looked at the door behind him before turning back to me.
"Okay. So, you have your..." He cleared his throat. "Period. Have you brought anything for it?"
"In my locker... upstairs," I said.
Mark knew no one could leave until work hours were over.
He sighed and rubbed his forehead.
"I can ask Milchik."
"What? No, Mark. I can just go upstairs and..."
He cut me off.
"You can't." I cut him off right back, walking past him toward the bathroom door.
"I've got it, boss."
My tone was slightly mocking.
Mark rolled his eyes and rubbed his temples before following me out.
"Shit."
Irving saw me leave the office and watched as Mark came close behind me.
"What's wrong with her?" Irving asked.
Mark sighed.
"Who could possibly know this time?"
I walked down the white halls, left, then right, then another right, then a left and a right until I reached Milchik's office.
I didn't want to wait anymore. I could feel the pain getting worse, so all I needed to do now was ask permission.
He wouldn't say no to this.
I entered his office. Mark jogged behind me to catch up. He really didn't want me to ask, so of course I needed to.
Milchik looked up from his computer. He was always looking to see if the name on the home screen had been changed to his. Of course, it hadn't.
He gathered himself and stood up.
"Yes, Ms. Y/N?" he asked, straightening his tie.
"I need to go upstairs and grab something from my locker. It's a necessity."
My fists clenched the hem of my skirt.
Mark approached but didn't say anything yet. He followed me around like a puppy.
Milchik nodded slightly.
"And what is this necessity?"
His voice was smooth in that condescending way it always was.
I glanced at Mark to my left.
A blush crept up my cheeks. "Womanly... supplies."
That came out more awkwardly than I wanted.
Apparently, no one else felt that way.
Milchik took a second to gather his thoughts before smiling slightly. His mustache curled with it.
"I see. Well, unfortunately, if you go upstairs, you won't remember what you're up there to retrieve."
I clenched my jaw. He had a point, possibly one Mark had tried telling me already. Mark motioned subtly, as if to say, "I told you so."
"I can get what you need as long as you go back to your desk. Is that possible?" Milchik asked calmly.
I thought for a second. As embarrassing as it was for me, he didn't seem affected by it at all.
"Yes..."
"Perfect."
He came around his large desk and stopped in front of me, his tall form towering over mine.
"I'll request your key and get whatever you need from your locker. Back to the office, please."
I looked up at him for a second.
"Thank you."
I turned to walk out, Mark giving me an almost teasing look as he followed beside me.
"Oh, and Y/N?"
He stopped me.
I turned my head to face him.
"Yes, sir?"
"Come prepared next time to avoid this again. And Lumon appreciates your dedication despite your temporary discomfort."
I didn't even nod. I just stared at him before walking down the halls back to the office. Mark followed too. That was weird.
"You didn't have to be so awkward about it," he said.
He sounded less teasing and more like he meant there was no need to be embarrassed.
Of course, I took it the wrong way.
"You're not the one in pain, Mark. When I come here, I'm not supposed to be."
I didn't stop walking.
Mark groaned slightly. My attitude had reached its peak, but he handled it.
"Okay, fine. I'm sorry you're dealing with this. Just go sit down before you hurt someone."
I rolled my eyes and returned to my seat in front of my computer full of numbers.
I didn't even want to do this.
The pain messed with my head. I couldn't see the scary numbers correctly.
I needed to remind my outie to take the day off.
Irving saw me and Mark come back after a short while.
Dylan didn't look up from his computer.
"You done being a bitch?"
I glanced at Dylan. Was he talking to me?
Mark immediately spoke up.
"Don't... don't talk to her like that."
Dylan glanced up over his glasses at Mark.
"No. I'm asking you."
Mark seemed baffled. He glanced at me.
I smiled a little and looked down at my keyboard.
Mark cleared his throat. He glanced at Irving for backup or input.
Irving quickly looked back down at his keyboard, not wanting any confrontation.
Mark leaned back.
"Fuck."
My smile slowly faded.
I felt the heaviness in my stomach and the effort it took to control the bleeding.
I was worried I'd ruin my skirt. I didn't have a spare one in my bag.
I bit my tongue to distract myself from the ache in my stomach. Closing my eyes, I gripped the edge of my desk.
Mark did a double take.
He could see the pain on my face, and while it was admirable how well I masked it, he didn't want me to feel like I had to hide my discomfort.
He wanted to say something.
Right when he built up the courage to, Milchik came in holding a small black bag. One of mine from upstairs.
Milchik walked over and handed it to me.
"I hope you don't mind. I needed to make sure there weren't any other belongings inside."
He smiled slightly and straightened again.
Then he looked at everyone.
"Back to work, please."
Everyone watched him leave.
The second he was gone, I stood up, clutching the bag in my fist as I headed toward the bathroom.
I locked myself in a stall and held my stomach.
I'd spent too long hiding the pain.
A tear slid down my cheek.
I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to process the strong cramp forming in my stomach.
"Oww..."
I winced and gripped my skirt.
At his desk, Mark fiddled with his pen, constantly glancing at the bathroom door.
Dylan rolled his eyes and continued working.
"Why don't you just go in there already?"
Mark looked at him and set his pen down.
"Why would I do that?"
"You're staring at the door like it's on fire," Dylan replied. "Just admit you have a crush, dude."
Mark raised his eyebrows.
"I do not..."
Irving finally cut in. "It seems you're a bit sweaty too."
Mark sighed and stood. "Both of you, don't comment on anything. Got it?"
The two of them only looked at each other.
Dylan shook his head.
Mark chose to ignore their silent banter and headed toward the bathroom.
He knew I could still be in a stall, but there was also a chance I'd be by the sink.
He kept thinking of every possibility.
I didn't know he was outside the door.
I sniffled and adjusted myself before unlocking the stall.
The lock clicked. Mark heard the stall door open and straightened.
He shook his head. He didn't want to invade my privacy. "You okay in there?"
I closed my eyes for a second and leaned against the sink counter.
"I'm fine, Mark."
His intentions were genuine. I could hear it in his voice. He didn't want to pressure me into talking.
After a moment, he unbuttoned his suit jacket and walked to the kitchenette. He started a pot of coffee.
He didn't even know why he was so worried about me. He thought he resented me after all the petty arguments we'd had.
I walked in slowly, my movements stiff.
"You wouldn't happen to have any painkillers?"
I rubbed the back of my hip while pulling out a mug.
His eyes softened slightly. He knew I was hurting. "No, we don't keep painkillers here. But I can walk you to the wellness center."
He poured coffee into his mug, then mine.
I shook my head and sat at the round white table.
"I'd rather spare myself the embarrassment."
Mark's brows furrowed as he sat down across from me.
"You're okay with telling me I'm an asshole, but you won't ask for Midol or something?"
I smiled faintly.
"Apparently so."
I took a sip of coffee.
He hid a small smirk.
"That's very you."
I sighed and pressed the warm mug against my lower abdomen.
He winced sympathetically.
"I can get them for you if you really don't want to ask."
"I'm fine, really."
"You're hanging on by a thread. I can ask. It's not a big deal."
I shook my head.
"I'm a grown woman. I don't need a man getting painkillers for my stupid cramps."
I stood up, or at least tried to.
The ache spread from my stomach into my back.
I leaned forward and braced myself against the table.
Mark's hands hovered near me, hesitant to touch me.
The last time he'd tried something like that, I'd thrown a glass ornament at his forehead.
He still remembered.
But seeing me in pain changed things.
He carefully placed a hand on my lower back, trying to be respectful of my space.
The awkward effort it took for him to show concern was almost funny.
"I'll go down to wellness, okay? Just stay here."
I didn't argue.
Another sharp pain hit, and I sat back down, clutching my skirt as I exhaled heavily.
Mark hurried off, bothered more than he wanted to admit that I was hurting.
Fuck. Dylan was right.
He made it down to wellness, only to find the door locked.
Almost like nobody was there.
Strange.
Milchik spotted him.
"Mark Scout."
Mark jumped slightly at the sound of his voice.
"Where's the..."
Milchik smiled in that unsettling way he always did.
"Closed for today. Renovating."
Mark nodded awkwardly.
"Um..."
He cleared his throat.
"I need some painkillers."
Milchik nodded.
"I assume this is for Y/N?"
Mark nodded immediately.
"Yes."
"Stay here."
Milchik disappeared down the hall.
Mark never really questioned these things anymore.
After two years, he'd gotten used to the unethical ways this place operated.
Almost like a fever dream.
He checked his watch.
All he could picture was me barely holding myself together.
It bothered him.
And he was right.
Back in the kitchenette, I had my head resting on my arms at the table, barely holding it together.
When Irving came in for coffee, all he could do was gently pat my upper back.
"Is Mark coming back?"
I nodded without lifting my head.
Irving seemed to understand I wanted to be left alone.
So he got his coffee and quietly left.
Six minutes later, Mark returned.
A white pill bottle sat in his hand.
The only label on it read:
LUMON.
I lifted my head.
My eyes were red and my face was stained with tears.
Mark's stomach twisted when he saw me.
He set the bottle beside my hand and knelt next to me.
"Take these."
I looked at the bottle.
"How do I know..."
Mark cut me off.
"Milchik got them."
"Oh, that's great," I said sarcastically. "As long as they don't kill me."
I took the bottle.
At that point, I didn't care.
Anything was better than this pain.
I swallowed two pills with the remains of my now-cold coffee.
Mark sighed in relief.
I looked up at him.
"Thank you."
Mark nodded.
He looked like he wanted to say more, maybe even comfort me somehow, but he didn't.
We eventually returned to our desks.
The pain had eased slightly, and the medication seemed to be helping.
I worked better, less tense.
Mark, however, remained distracted.
He fiddled with his pen and stared at his computer screen.
The numbers shook, begging to be sorted.
Not now.
He couldn't focus.
Near the end of the day, he walked me to the elevator, as he was the last one to leave. This time, I was too.
He walked to the door and pressed the button. I hesitated to say thank you. Would that be awkward?
I shook my head.
"Mark?" I looked up at him.
He looked down at me.
"Yeah?"
His eyes met mine. I felt a small flutter in my stomach. It wasn't that painful ache anymore.
It was something else.
"Thank you for helping me... I know I haven't been very nice to you since being here."
He smiled a little.
"It's fine."
He treated it like it wasn't a big deal.
But then, when I started to step onto the elevator, his body took over.
His brain wasn't thinking first. His actions were.
He gently grabbed my arm and stopped me, turning me toward him.
I looked up at him as he did. A single brown strand of hair had fallen across his forehead as he leaned down.
He gave me the chance to pull away if I wanted to. His intentions were clear.
He kissed me gently, his lips soft against mine.
I felt his breathing hitch as he brought a hand up to cup the back of my head, deepening the kiss only slightly.
Then he pulled back.
The next day was a flash, like going home hadn't even happened.
I could see him sooner rather than later.
He finally admitted to himself that Dylan had been right.
No more denying it.
Even if it made him even more awkward than before.
• he's all about being organized and sanitary, but bilbo knows better than to boss you around on your period
• he makes sure your clean and comfortable, but also you get a good amount of fresh hair too
• he knows what herbs help pain, specifically anything causing inflammation, that causes most pain on your cycle
• he's not the type to poke fun or tease, hes a respectful hobbit and respectful of your space
• big emotions, he can handle well on some occasions, but most of the time it's from your period which he doesn't know what to say, scared to make you cry more, but he tries
• but he's a big comfort giver, making sure you have a comfortable blanket and heat for your aching belly
• "food to give you energy!" he encourages, but understands if you're feeling sick too
• if you have an accident here or there, he makes sure you're not embarrassed about something natural
• but he himself doesn't handle blood as well as the next hobbit, he might get lightheaded if he sees blood somewhere it shouldn't be
• "nope! I'm fine... Just a little-." BANG — he passes out, of course
• but other than that, he loves you so much and does his best to make sure this time of the month goes as well as all the others ♡
-
♡ FILI & KILI
• they're immediately on it when they figure out why you've been so emotional lately
• yes, they both fight who's getting what and what's helping more, but if it's serious, they take charge in comforting you rather than competing
• he understand it can be painful for some and less for others and quickly learn which one you are
• they make sure you have all the sweets you crave even if any bossy hobbit says otherwise (bilbo)
• they'd climb the misty mountain to get you anything you desire
• but most of all, they hate seeing you in pain, it hurts them inside
• "this work better than that." Fili would say very often, "no, this will, just you wait." Kili would argue back
• you'd find it entertaining all the while, that's part of why they bicker so much, because they love you so much
• through all the hell, they'd carry you no matter what species you are, if it's pain keeping you off your feet, they got you
• some nights are harder, and they understand that, they'll talk you through any pain or frustration, tell you some stories of their adventures to distract you and help you sleep
• blood is nothing new to them, a simple mess isn't a big deal, they'll help you if you ask, but sometimes they give you space when you need it
• overly protective, both of them, won't let anyone breathe too loud near you
-
♡ BOFUR
• he's a big cuddle bug, any chance he gets, so when you have your period that's his big opportunity
• he knows how painful they can be, so he takes extra care to make sure you never lift a finger, especially if you're traveling, you ride his pony
• he gives you all his blankets and make sure you're the closest to the fire, unless you're having a hot flash, he keeps you cool
• sweets are always packed just for you, when you desire a little something, or a lot of something
• he rubs out any pain in your body, whether it's in your legs, back, stomach, he's got it all
• he sweet talks you when you get a little moody, he doesn't make you think you're overreacting, you're having a period, that's a big deal
• most of all, he never lets anyone get in your space if you're visibly irritable
• he understands strong emotions, he may not understand the exact pain but he never lets that get in the way of helping you
• "lets take a deep breath first." he always wanted to hear what's going on in your head, if something is bothering you
• he loves you so much he can't stop telling you
-
♡ THORIN
• you don't need to tell him to let him know, he's very observant especially of you
• he knows the pain can be unbearable, and even if it isn't he still wants to baby you
• he makes sure you have everything you need while traveling, and doesn't let you do anything by yourself
• he wants you to be comfortable, and if that means eating more than usual, he makes sure you do just that
• he doesn't want you to be embarrassed for something so natural and he reminds you of that every time
• he keeps things private between you and him, nothing you tell him leaves without your permission
• he holds you at night, wrapping his fur coat around you and making sure your aching belly is all nice and warm
• if anything is switching chaotically, he doesn't want you to be stressed, if it's emotions or pain, nothing matters more than your comfort
• he doesn't let anyone downplay your pain, if anyone does he'll have a very large issue
• he never gets mad at you for anything, mood swings or accidents
• he loves you even if he doesn't always tell you, he'll definitely show it
-
♡ BARD
• bard never asked questions to avoid embarrassing you or making you feel invaded unless you make it obvious he needs to ask
• he knows you can be stubborn sometimes but he always insists to help you, especially during your period
• he gets you anything you need and anything he'd think you want if you don't tell him
• "you're too stubborn." he insists you lay down and rest if you're the active type but if you're not, he absolutely understands and never makes you do anything you're uncomfortable with
• he gives you every fur blanket he has to snuggle in, and he even holds you if you ask
• pain can be intense and he knows that very well
• he rubs your back gently, wanting the pain to stop even if he has to have it himself, he wishes
• he kisses you all over your face and makes you feel loved during a time that can make you feel confused and tired
• he makes sure you're clean and comfortable, if you have an accident he doesn't make a big deal, giving you a kiss to reassure you
• "I've got it, sweetheart." he doesn't want you to cry, not ever
• and, he loves you too much to say no, anything you want he gets it
‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊‧
all my writing, do not take or repost as your own ♡
Ohm was driving down the open road of the beautiful countryside of Ireland. He wasn't happy I came along, all he wanted was to spread his parents ashes... Alone.
But I couldn't let him go by himself; of course I'd give him space, but he and I have been friends for so long way before his first book was published.
He sighs, his thumb drumming on the steering wheel; no music was playing. This was strictly annoyance.
He glanced at me, then my lap; something caught his eye, and he rolled his eyes.
I saw that.
"What is it?" I asked. I was trying to be kind to his somewhat impatient attitude.
"You're..." He glanced again. "Your socks. They don't match."
I look down at my socks peeking out of my boots. One pink sock, and the other was brown.
"I thought it was cute."
Ohm scoffs. "So you did that on purpose. And they're showing..."
I sigh. "So? It's not going to affect you."
"It is right now." He says matter-of-factly, then shakes his head.
"You didn't notice it when we left," I replied.
"That's because I was trying to load your hundred bags of luggage," he replied.
"I have two bags." I said, "they aren't even heavy."
He shook his head again. "Just... just be quiet while I drive."
I sink into my seat and shrug a little. "Fine."
He glanced at me again. "Fine...?"
I look to him as well, "you said."
"I know what I said..." He cut me off.
Then, continuing to drive in the silence he asked for. Maybe he was expecting me to bite back, or maybe he wanted me to keep talking? He was confused with himself and annoyed.
But once we reached the Bilberry Woods Hotel, his parents came after their wedding.
I didn't expect tears from him, he was even more annoyed seeing goats on the hoods of the employees cars, knowing one would be on his too.
"Crap." He said.
I smile a little. "I didn't know they had goats."
"It's almost like every country in the world has goats." He unbuckled his seatbelt.
I glance at him; I understand his attitude. I wouldn't be very happy to spread my parents' ashes, especially ones I lost so young.
"Okay... I'll get the luggage," I said simply.
He rolled his eyes at my response, but deep down he felt guilty for how he spoke to me.
He helped me with my bags, even his. His way of saying thank you in the most discreet way he could, cause he just couldn't admit he's an asshole.
He let me inside the hotel door first, with the smell of wood and coffee, dust, and even faded cologne.
He put the bags down by the front desk, empty... He pressed his palm on the bell and it rang.
I sat down my bag next to the others and stood next to his tall frame, my arms over the counter.
"It's nice and warm in here," I replied.
Ohm sighs and rings the bell again. "Once we get to the room, in the morning I'm taking the ashes out to that trail we passed by."
He glanced at me and adds, "you can come... If you want."
I nod a little, wanting him to have someone if he needed, even if he couldn't admit he did.
"Yeah. Of course I will."
He glanced at me slightly, gazing a little longer than needed. He nods once and turns towards the man now exiting the door behind the counter.
"Can I help you?" The man asks in his Irish accent.
Ohm spoke first, "We need a room. Have a reservation for Ohm Bauman."
The man nods; his name tag reads "Mal." He smiled a little and grabbed a pair of keys beside the bedroom's room service bell.
"Yes, Ohm Bauman...?" Mal read down the booking list. "Staying for a week," Mal says.
Ohm nodded once to sign his signature.
Mal nodded and looked to me. "And who's this pretty young lass?"
Ohm glanced at me then back to Mal, "She's—"
Mal interrupted, "the honeymoon sweet is sadly shut down."
Ohm clears his throat, "she's not... She's. Shes just my assistant, my PA."
I glance up at Ohm, then nod to Mal, what id give to at least be called his friend.
Mal nodded once he hear that. "Oh, my apologies. You two seem perfect for—"
Ohm cut him off, giving him the paper with hsj signature, "just... Find someone to take the luggage."
Ohm walks up the steps already while grabbing the keys to the room.
I turn to Mal. "Sorry about him. He's had a long day."
Mal smiles a little, "no worries... I'll get Connell. He'll bring your luggage up."
"Thank you." I said to Mal before following up behind Ohm.
Ohm looked back at me. "I got a two-bed," he said.
I nod, "a shower I hope." I tease a little.
He glanced back at me as he unlocked the door... "Well yeah, it's a hotel."
I bit my cheek. "You have a stick up your ass or something?" I finally caved.
He chuckles. "I was waiting for that."
Nope, he didn't fight, he just laughs, a real one for the first time in a while.
"He got the door open and took off his brown overcoat. He turned on the warm lights that revealed the soft red blankets and a bathroom door as well.
I took off my coat and put my hair back.
He watched me for a moment, again, longer than he needed.
He sighs slightly and checks his watch. "I'm going down for some coffee..."
"It's almost 8pm," I replied.
Ohm smiled slightly, almost like he couldn't care less. "I'll be back. What, you scared to be alone?"
"I'm serious, Ohm." I replied that serious look to my face he knew too well.
He sighs, "So am I."
..."yes."
"Yes what?" He crossed his arms.
"Just go get your coffee," I said.
He wanted me to admit openly I was scared to be by myself.
I pulled my phone from my pocket. A way of saying "leave me alone."
He raised an eyebrow and finally opened the hotel door and shut it behind him.
He ran into Connell, who was carrying our luggage, an older man, with a shaky appearance to him.
Ohm recognized their luggage but didn't look back.
He headed down to the bar, lying about that coffee. He ordered whiskey, yes. The strong kind, sitting down at the counter.
Thinking the whiskey would get his mind out of it all, but it didn't.
All he could think about was how horrible he felt for how he spoke to his friend, the one who went out of her way to go on this long trip just to spread ashes.
Fucking ashes.
Up in the room, I put my phone down when I heard two knocks.
I stood up and opened the door.
An older man, name tag that read "Connell." My and Ohm's luggage.
"Oh!"
Take two bags to help. "Thank you so much."
Connell nodded and sat the other luggage down by the desk. "Of course, miss."
He looked around expecting to find someone; he most likely knew who was staying due to the name tags on the luggage.
"Ohms is downstairs," I said, smiling.
Yes, Connell knew Ohm from his books.
Connell chuckles awkwardly, "Oh, thank you. Are you his... girlfriend or wife?" He was curious.
I laugh a little. "No, I'm his friend."
Connell's eyebrows rose. "Ah. Well, it could've fooled me. He's a very good writer; I have all his books." He chuckles. "Well, I'll leave you alone."
He turned to leave, but then his head whipped back. "Do you need anything else, miss?"
"It's y/n. And, no thank you," I said kindly.
He nodded and turned to leave, this time fully.
Ohm is downstairs, drinking his second glass of hard whiskey.
He glanced at the bellboy he saw passing him in the hall; Connell smiled at him awkwardly.
"I delivered your luggage." He said simply, lingering longer than needed.
Ohm nodded once as he slipped from the glass. "Thanks." He said flatly, glancing at the name tag. The whiskey was burning his throat.
Connell nodded, watching him. "Your friend is very pretty."
Ohm turned his head fully to him, "I don't want you talking to her."
Connell shook his head fast, "no, no. I meant in the most respectful way."
Ohm set his glass down, watching Connell as he struggles to pull himself together.
"Forgive me, I only meant to compliment your books at first."
Ohm clears his throat and gets off the chair he was in by the bar. "Yeah."
Ohm cleaned his glasses on his flannel shirt.
Connell nodded a little. "Yes. I have to say it's a very well-written book," Connell said.
Ohm puts his glasses back on, "yeah well, don't look forward to more."
He drank the last drop in the glass before leaving past him.
Connell didn't mind the impatient attitude Ohm had, being around people was his job, even the rude ones. But he'd lie if he said he wasn't interested in knowing more.
Ohm came back, opening the door.
He didn't know he'd find me in undergarments, drying my hair with a towel.
I gasped.
He jumped a little and closed his eyes fast, turning away. "Fuck!"
"Knock like a normal person!" I say, wrapping myself in the towel.
Ohm rolled his eyes, "why don't you dry in the damn bathroom like a normal person?"
"It's humid in there," I said simply.
Ohm turned back, not caring I was covered by my towel.
I broke the silence, "you don't snore do you."
He glanced at me, grabbing pajamas from my bag. "No," he said. "I don't know."
I eye him a little, he scoffs. "I can get you another room."
"Why are we even sharing a room anyway?" I ask.
"Because you make me nervous with the sleep walking and the... The night terrors." He replied, pulling out his toothbrush from his bag.
I didn't think he was actually listening when I spoke about that a long time ago. But he did...
I went silent for a moment.
He wanted to watch me, especially in a hotel... One he didn't know well.
"Oh. "
I take a deep breath. "I'm fine, Ohm."
Ohm headed into the humid bathroom, lit up by a warm light overhead. He wiped the foggy mirror with his sleeve.
"Don't say that. You're going to be a menace all night while I try to sleep."
I smile a little, thinking he couldn't see me.
But he did in the bathroom mirror as he brushed and rinsed his mouth.
I got underneath the covers.
I didn't tell him; ever since we arrived, I've had a bad feeling... About the hotel, it's not the usual sleeping in a new place feeling. One of confusion and horror.
I curled up with the large, fluffy pillow.
I shook my head...
He noticed my expression as he changed into sweatpants.
"What's wrong?" Did he actually care?
I shrug a little and sigh. "I just... have a weird feeling."
He took off his glasses before turning off his bedside light.
"Yeah, well, get used to it. It's Ireland."
That wasn't the answer I wanted... But he was Ohm.
Around 2am, the hotel was quiet... No lights were visible except the occasional shadow under the hotel door as people passed.
I was dreaming; I knew I was.
A dark hallway, hotels' hallways.
I shifted slightly.
I knew this was a dream, but for some reason I didn't wake myself.
I walked down the hall, which had no doors or windows. There wasn't a way out...
Then I heard a deep moaning, almost uncanny.
I looked behind myself, feeling a shiver run down my spine.
More empty hallways.
The moaning wasn't coming from anywhere specific, but it got louder...and louder...and louder.
I tried running, but I felt something grab my hair. Forced me to look up.
There was something there, eyes reflecting, and the nails behind my head felt long and unkempt.
The face appears more visible and disturbing before jumping down at me.
My body jerks awake, followed by a scream and gasping.
"WHAT, WHAT?!" Ohm gasps, he slammed his hand against the bedside lamp before turning it on.
"Shit." He says in pain before rushing off his bed towards mine.
Sweating, crying, and panicking.
Ohms eyes are wide as he sat near me, cupping my face.
"Hey, calm down!"
He didn't snap, not this time.
"You're awake!" He says.
I cried out; finally, he saw how scared I was. The fear in my eyes.
He pulled me into him, hugging me.
"Shh. It's okay."
He rocked me slightly, wanting me to clam down.
He knew this would happen but not this bad... Not seeing me this terrified.
"I'm right here," he whispered.
Because right now I didn't need someone telling me it was just a dream... I needed comfort. A way to get out of that scary headspace.
He rubbed my back.
"You okay?" He asked finally, once I calmed down.
I nodded as he pulled back.
I wipe my eyes with my sleeve. "Sorry."
He watched me, making sure I was telling the truth about being okay.
"Don't... don't be sorry," he sighs.
He looked at me; he brushed a stray hair away from my face.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
I shake my head and wipe my eyes again.
He nodded, respecting my choice.
"Think you can go back to sleep?" He asks, genuinely, not heartlessly. Not now... Not to me.
I nod.
"You sure?"
I nod again. "Yeah... Just needed a minute."
Ohm nods.
Luckily I slept fine, because Ohm had left his bedside light on all night for me.
He slept fine, and he didn't want me to have another nightmare like that...
He was relieved it was half a dream. That I wasn't hurt... But why he felt so deeply about it he couldn't understand.
In the morning, I freshened up... dressing warmly for the cold Irish weather.
He was already downstairs, having coffee this time. He let me sleep in.
I knew where to find him, his parents ashes were near his feet by the chair.
I came up next to him.
"You okay?" He asks me.
"Yeah...sorry about waking you up." I smile a little.
He shrugs, "yeah well, I told you stop saying sorry." He said a little more cold, back to the way he was yesterday.
I sigh, waving down the bartender.
"Coffee, please."
I added what I liked, and obviously the bartender gave me the exact.
Ohm kept glancing at me. Why? He couldn't understand.
"Let's head out."
He put money on the counter, paying for me also.
I took my coffee with me as we headed out to the crisp morning air...
I shiver a little, holding my warm cup of coffee closer.
He held both his father's and mother's ashes in his arms as he led me up the small trial.
The orange unrise making everything sparkle, even the cold breeze and the blue sky, gettinf cloudy like it always would be here.
Ohm tried to find a good spot... Finding that tree his mother was next to in the photograph he carried around.
I followed, didn't speak, and didn't do anything but follow behind him like I wasn't even there.
Till he found a tree...
Wasn't really sure if it was the tree, but he took it.
He sighs.
I stay behind him, letting him do what he needs.
He didn't speak, didn't do anything but lay his mother's ashes down near the roots of the tree, taking a glance before standing up.
He opened his father's ashes and tossed them into the dirt not far from the tree but not as gracefully as his mother's.
He and his father had a bad relationship after his mother's death... After what happened.
Ohm sighs and glanced at his mother's ashes before turning to me.
"Finally got that done," I said.
I smile a little, being supportive. Even though he sounded like it was a burden to have the ashes anywhere near him.
I understood but didn't step in to tell him how to feel.
I started walking down the trail he led, but...he stopped me.
"Y/n?" he asks.
I stop, turning to him, my now empty mug of coffee hanging on my finger.
"Yeah?"
He sighs, his breath fogged in the air as he did.
"Look, I'm sorry for... Treating you like you're just some other person."
He began; I didn't interrupt.
"You're... my friend, and I do see you as that. "
I breathed out again.
"And I know I should show that to you more."
I laugh a little, not that I didn't take him seriously.
"Ohm, if I didn't like the way you spoken to me, you'd already have a new assistant already."
Ohm's mouth curved a little at the corner.
He saw me approach him, closer, looking up at him...
He just looked down at me, taking a very quick glance to my lips.
"Still thinking there's a stick up my ass?"
I nod. "A very big one."
He chuckles a little and watches me.
"Yeah, I thought so."
I took his arm, leaning against him as he walked with me.
"What are we doing here for a week anyway?"
He shrugged.
"I thought I'd write a little. It's peaceful here."
I looked around the beautiful scape of the dirt road not far from up as the trees...the smell of pine and rain.
He was right.
Ohm stopped walking, and I did as well as I was hooked to his arm.
He looked down at me.
"Have I always been an asshole?" He was genuinely curious.
I laugh; he stopped right now, changing the conversation so fast.
"Well," I pretend to speak. "Yes...and no."
He rolled his eyes again, this time affectionately.
Then he looked down at me, slowly...
He put his head down to be closer to me.
My heart skipped a beat when he did that.
I glance at his lips, like he did earlier, thinking I didn't notice.
He landed a kiss right on my lips; it wasn't forceful or overwhelming.
It was slow but almost full of affection and sorrowfulness.
He cupped the back of my head, making sure the kiss lasted longer, longer than he thought I'd hold it.
But it did, and he didn't stop till I did.
Ohm still had that heart he thought he lost years ago.
And the only way he felt it was because of me; he knew that.
‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊‧
all my work, do not take as your own or repost as your own ♡
I was curled up in bed, the one I shared with Thomas. My eyes were closed, pain evident throughout my body as I tried to relax, too embarrassed to even go downstairs.
It would be too obvious. Hoyt would say something rude, something dirty even. After being forced to marry Thomas, it wasn't so bad... He fell in love with me long before I fell in love with him.
I didn't tell him, not about this. But then I heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and entering the hall. The door creaked open, and I lifted my head.
It was Thomas. He came in wearing his mask, as always. I never thought I'd ever tell him the truth after I saw him without it. He was so insecure that I thought there was nothing I could say that would make him feel any different.
He saw me curled up in bed, my knees pressed to my chest and my pajamas riding up my legs. He tilted his head. He smelled something different. He came closer and touched my hip, stroking my hip bone with his thumb as he sat down.
Heavy on the mattress, he grunted as if asking, "What's wrong?"
He never spoke, never said a word. I bit my lip, not moving as I felt his grip on my hip tighten slightly, not enough to hurt.
"I'm..." I struggled to explain. "It's cramps, Thomas," I finally said.
He watched me through his hair. He didn't make a sound. Did he understand? Thomas always seemed to understand a lot, even if he couldn't say anything. But this time I couldn't read him.
He leaned closer, placing his hand on my lower stomach. Maybe he did understand. This was his way of showing it.
"I don't want to go down for dinner tonight," I explained.
Thomas continued to watch me. His hand lifted to roughly brush my hair away from my face. Sometimes he didn't understand his own strength.
He grunted and turned his head toward the bedroom's open door. The smell of cornbread and soup drifted up the stairs.
"I can't..." I said.
Thomas shook his head and patted my leg before standing up, his way of saying, "You don't have to."
He pulled the blanket over me and made sure I'd be able to manage on my own. I seemed tired and in pain, but he couldn't think of anything that would help.
He went downstairs. Hoyt was already seated while his mother stood over the stove.
Hoyt started in, like he always did with Thomas. "Where's your wife?" His voice dripped with mockery.
"She sick or something? Can't come down and eat like normal people?"
The air changed.
Thomas slowly walked around the table. Hoyt never actually thought Thomas would do something to him, but the fear of it never went away.
Thomas clenched his fist, the one he'd use to hit him. But he didn't. He couldn't.
He heard my feet pattering against the wooden steps and my voice calling his name.
"Thomas...?"
His fist unclenched, and he turned toward me.
He walked over and helped me down the rest of the stairs. Hoyt smirked, not kindly, the way he always did before saying something else.
Thomas sat me down gently in a chair and took the seat next to me. The chair creaked beneath him as his large thigh pressed against my smaller leg. His hand rested on my upper thigh, near my aching stomach.
Luda came by with a steaming plate of rolls, the ones I always loved.
I treated everything like it was normal. After being kidnapped and forced to marry him, I didn't care anymore. Thomas took care of me.
Even more surprising, I never thought he'd take care of me during my period.
Hoyt noticed the pained expression on my face. No mercy was given to me, not even now.
"Bleeding like a damn dog," he muttered quietly, loud enough for Thomas and me to hear.
Apparently, Luda heard too. "Hoyt!" she snapped.
Thomas stood up.
This wasn't a game to him. If I was in pain, he'd want to understand why. But because it was my period, he knew there wasn't much he could do except comfort me.
Hoyt laughed. "What're you gonna do, boy?"
Thomas' fist clenched again, and he smashed it straight into Hoyt's nose.
Hoyt fell out of his chair, the table shaking from the force.
Luda gasped, but she didn't rush to stop it, not like she ever did.
I stood up too. I was grateful he defended me from such a crude comment.
"Thomas," I said softly, taking his large arm in both my hands and tugging gently.
He let me. I wouldn't have been able to move him otherwise, but he always let me.
Thomas grunted and watched Hoyt groan on the floor, his ego destroyed and his nose bloody.
Thomas gently gripped my arm and led me upstairs. Forcefully, almost as if he was angry. Not at me, but at Hoyt.
He brought me into the bathroom.
He was furious. He gripped onto my arm and shoved me into the bathroom, then slammed his fists against the sink counter, making more paint chip away.
I jumped at the loud bang, my heart pounding in my throat.
Thomas was breathing heavily, but he turned toward me. He needed to calm down. He knew that.
This wasn't my fault.
He gently cupped the back of my head with his large hand. He would have kissed me, but his mask...
He pulled away and reached behind me to turn on the bathwater. The tub began filling quickly with warm water.
Maybe this would help the cramps.
"Thomas..." I said softly over the sound of the running water.
Thomas turned his head toward me, still kneeling beside the tub.
I ran my fingers gently through his hair, trying to calm him down.
His eyes fluttered shut for only a second before he reached for the arm he'd grabbed downstairs. He grunted softly, as if saying, "Sorry."
I didn't need him to.
I kissed the top of his head.
For a moment, he looked genuinely surprised, like he couldn't believe it had happened.
Thomas wanted to kiss me back, but he knew the way he was. He knew backing me into a corner and trapping me there would only make me uncomfortable.
So he ignored the kiss, for now.
He dipped his hand into the bathwater to test it.
Warm.
He looked back at me, his eyes trailing down to my pajamas.
He stood again, silently wanting me to get into the water.
I trusted him, and he knew that. He never wanted to break that trust.
He braced his large hands against the sink, keeping his eyes turned away as I stripped out of my clothes.
But something caught the corner of his eye. He saw red. Blood running down my inner thigh.
He was used to blood. More than most people.
Still, he came closer and grunted. Not because he was disturbed, but because he knew this pain was natural, and he didn't want to look away from it.
I looked up at him.
"I'm sorry..." I whispered.
A deep rumble sounded in his chest.
He shook his head and gently patted the side of my thigh, silently telling me to get into the bath.
I did.
I stepped into the water and sat down.
He wasted no time gently splashing warm water over my legs, cleaning me off and helping wash me.
The soap smelled like butter and lavender, something he didn't particularly like but used because I did.
When he saw another grimace cross my face and another wave of pain hit, he gently stroked my hair.
I kept my eyes shut.
He didn't force me to do anything.
Part of him was still thinking about Hoyt and the awful comment he'd made. The way he'd punched him. The fact that he wanted to do worse.
He pushed the anger away.
That rage was something he always tried to keep under control around me— even when it made him want to reach for his chainsaw again.
Once the bath was over, he helped me out of the water and into clean clothes.
He needed a shower himself.
He removed the dirty apron he never seemed to wash and helped brush my wet hair with surprising gentleness.
He was never intentionally rough.
He always tried his best.
Sometimes he gripped me too tightly or set me down harder than necessary, but he always apologized afterward by bringing me flowers from the farm or giving me a new piglet whenever one was born.
He pulled off his dirty shirt, revealing his large frame, one I couldn't help but find charming.
I leaned against the sink and groaned as another sharp ache twisted through my stomach.
Thomas grunted and guided me back toward the bed.
More gently this time—
He sat me down and gave another grunt, as if telling me to wait until he finished his shower.
I did. I curled up beneath the blanket and waited.
I heard the shower shut off.
My eyes fluttered open.
He came out shirtless, his mask still on as if he'd showered wearing it.
His skin was clean now. No dirt.
Not that I minded it before.
He climbed into bed.
His heavy frame dipped the mattress, causing me to scoot closer to him.
He lay on his side while I curled against him.
He grunted softly and breathed in my scent as though it alone could help him sleep.
His arm wrapped around my waist, and his large hand settled over my lower abdomen.
He didn't want me to hurt anymore, but he knew the pain would come back. How natural it was, he hated it. Not my period, never that; something I can't help, but the way it would never stop.
He didn't fall asleep right away. He waited for any sign of discomfort.
If my body tensed.
If I flinched.
If I made a sound.
Even if I woke him during the night.
That wouldn't happen tonight.
He simply held me. Calmly.
His usually rough body felt surprisingly gentle against mine.
I woke up, still in the ship Cassian stole... On his mission, I decided to help, so there wasn't a point in complaining. He's made that clear. I've put myself in this position.
I sat up, my hair a mess, which I tried to fix. I was used to having clean water and good food on my planet, my home. Cassian stepped away from being the pilot for a moment. He left the ship on manual control and stood over me, looking down.
"Get enough sleep? Still grumpy?" he asked softly, teasing.
I looked up at him and rolled my eyes. He nodded a bit, noticing the eye roll.
"Nope, still grumpy," he said to himself.
He kneeled down and tilted his head, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead.
"What's wrong? You've been acting up for almost a week."
"I'm sorry I'm no fun to travel with," I said.
He sighed. "I didn't say that..." He watched me stand up and grab the wooden brush from the shelf to untangle my hair.
"Is this because you've not been sleeping well?" he asked, coming up behind me, but not crowding me.
"My stomach hurts, and my body feels like it's falling apart," I said, putting the brush down.
He tilted his head at me, his eyes doing something complicated as he tried to piece it together. Then he understood. Growing up with his sister, he'd gone through this before.
"Why didn't you just say you're having your period?"
He sounded sincere. He wasn't poking fun or teasing me.
I turned to him. "I thought you'd say something like..."
He cut me off. "I'm not saying anything."
"You just did," I said, almost teasing, though I was irritated.
Cassian smirked a little and rolled his eyes.
"Yeah... You're going to tell me if you need anything?"
"Where in space, what can you get me?" I asked as I sat down.
He sighed and looked around the ship.
"You're right."
He turned to face me and saw the wince on my face, the way my nose scrunched up and how I leaned forward slightly. He knew pain was a bigger problem for me than anything else.
"Hey," he said, worried.
He sat next to me, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on my lower back, trying to find that spot.
"Stop it."
I tried to push his arm away, but he only put his other arm around my shoulder.
"Just breathe for a moment," he said quietly.
"Cassian."
I didn't want him to think I couldn't handle this, but it was painful.
"Stop it, Y/N," he said softly but firmly, trying to get me to look at him.
I did.
"I'm fine, Cassian."
He shook his head and scoffed.
"Would you stop lying to me? Just tell me what you need."
I watched him for a moment. My stomach hurt again, and I winced, gripping the fabric of his pants. He leaned in a little closer and held me against him. He did understand, even if he'd never experienced it.
He learned that you didn't have to know the pain. You just needed to understand it hurt. Period.
He didn't tell me to be stronger or work through it. It wouldn't have helped.
He kissed the top of my head.
"We'll get to Kenari soon, okay? We'll get you something for the pain."
He brushed my hair back away from my face and looked at me gently.
"How bad is it?" he asked, then realized it was a stupid question.
I winced again and made a pained noise. He winced sympathetically.
"Okay, okay."
He rubbed my back.
After only a little longer, we arrived on Kenari. It was a beautiful green planet, almost a maze to get through with all the shops and homes. Droids stood on every corner in different shapes and colors. There were lots of humans and different creatures.
He led me through the crowds, even if I was slower than I wanted to be. I didn't want to slow him down, so I tried my best to walk at his pace.
He held my arm gently, guiding me to a shop. Only one person was there. Behind the stone counter, he was counting Galactic Credits in the palm of his hand, possibly from the last buyer.
Cassian pulled out a small brown pouch filled with credits.
"I need fast-acting pain relief, please."
He handed over two credits.
The man looked at him like he was an alien and walked down to a shelf behind him.
Cassian turned back to me and grabbed my hand.
"Doing okay?"
I nodded a little, holding my own. He understood not wanting to talk. The pain was already enough of a distraction.
Once the man handed him a glass vial filled with some substance, he led me out of the shop and gave me the bottle.
"Take this."
"What is it?" I asked, looking at the glass.
Cassian watched me. "It'll help the pain."
"My period?" I looked up at him.
He nodded. "It can help with anything. It works instantly if it doesn't worsen it."
My eyes widened. "It'll make it worse?"
"No, no." He calmed me. "I said if. Just take it."
I removed the cork and drank the black liquid. It tasted like water. I swallowed as it turned my tongue black. I wiped my mouth with my sleeve and waited.
The contracting feeling stopped in my uterus, and I was able to breathe fully again.
He smiled softly and rubbed my arm.
"Better?"
I nodded. "How long does it last?"
"Until your body passes it like any other medicine. We'll get more. But for now, we need supplies."
At two more shops, he got me some feminine products, a hot water bottle, a blanket, more food for the trip, and spare parts.
I was honestly surprised he could afford it.
Then I learned why. He grabbed my arm and pulled me as he ran.
I didn't question it, but when I looked back, there was an alien yelling in a different language. Something about thievery.
I yelled at Cassian as he led me toward the ship.
"CASSIAN!"
He smiled cheekily and laughed.
"Come on, get in!"
He started pressing buttons on the ship, starting it up and hovering.
"You're insane!" I said.
"We know this," he replied, teasingly.
We took off into hyperspace.
After a while, I had a nap, curling up against the hot water bottle and sleeping almost soundly.
I stirred a little as Cassian grabbed his water bottle, the ship on autopilot.
He looked down at me, making sure I didn't wake.
But I did. I moaned at the sudden pain returning to my stomach.
He put his water bottle down and kneeled beside the cot I was in.
"Hey... Hey." He touched my shoulder gently.
I fluttered my eyes open slightly and tried to sit up.
"No, don't sit up," he said gently.
"It hurts," I said, crying.
He was surprised by the crying, but that wasn't a reason to dismiss me. He nodded sympathetically and rubbed my hip.
"I know... Just try to breathe through the worst of it."
I tried to ignore the sharp ache in my lower stomach.
Cassian struggled to watch this. He stood up and rummaged through some storage containers. He groaned at himself as he searched for what he thought he had.
He pulled out a small white patch and examined it before walking back to me.
"Lift your shirt."
I watched him for a moment, my hands shaking.
So I did.
I lifted my top and lay back. He didn't move quickly or suddenly.
He peeled back the patch and felt it grow warm in his palms before placing it on my lower stomach.
Right where I was aching and sore.
"I know it might not do much," he explained.
I rested my head back and closed my eyes. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to focus on anything except the pain fading.
And when it did, my body visibly relaxed.
He relaxed too and leaned forward a little. He covered me with the blanket and wanted me to sleep, even if it seemed impossible.
Periods were no joke.
He wanted to talk me through any lingering pain.
He smiled and whispered gently. "We call it a moon cycle on my planet."
He chuckled to himself and brushed hair from my forehead.
"I know it hurts... Just listen to my voice. Copy my breathing for me."
His soft accent was quiet in my mind.
I was drifting off, and that was what he wanted. Not to silence me, but to help.
The ache.
The sadness.
The helplessness.
He kept his hand near my hip again.
He wanted to kiss me so badly he had to admit it to himself.
He wouldn't leave her, not when they were stuck on a ship together. But he wouldn't leave her anyway.
This wasn't something I could control, just like his feelings for me.
He kissed my forehead, leaving a warm feeling behind before standing and returning to the console. I rested comfortably.
If only I'd asked for that kiss sooner.
He smiled a little at the small twitch of my lips.
The worst time of my life, traveling alone due to my fight with my parents. They didn't want me anymore...
I grew up slightly happy, but my daddy always called me a sad girl when he'd come home from work... Then I hit 18 in 1974. I packed my blue suitcase and left...
Mother didn't want me anymore, said I needed to smile more, and those words cling to me like hair on sweat.
I screamed out my anger to the steering wheel and begged myself not to just rushfully slam into a tree, which there barely were any out here in the Texas heat.
It was beautiful, seeing a lake not far, but I wasn't homesick. I was scared where I was and where I was going. Then the worst happens.
"No!" I say. The car engine rumbles then stops.
I grip the wheel and groan to myself. In the middle of—wait.
I look down the road to see a home, large, and a rusted old truck in the front of the home, a large tree brushing against the tall roof... Was anyone home?
I got out of my car and sigh. Putting my hair back, I walk along the dirt road. Once I made it to the home, it smelled of barn animals, but I couldn't see any of them.
I didn't suspect anything, so I just walked to the porch and knocked gently, the paint peeling off the door along the rest of the home.
I waited. A slight breeze picked up and cooled the sweat on my face. Then the door opens. An old woman answers and smiles — in a way I didn't know how to feel.
"Well, what's a young little thing like you doing out here?" she says.
I smile a little, her gray hair blowing in the breeze I felt against my wet face. "My car broke down, I think... I was traveling."
She clicks her tongue and tries to look out far where I was looking. She shook her head. "Out of gas?" she asks.
"I think I'm out of that too," I replied.
She nods to me, looking at me a little longer than I'd like. "I'll get my son. He's good with those things. But!" She turns back around. "He cannot speak..."
I pause... "Okay. That's okay, thank you," I said.
She walked back in. I heard her yell, "THOMAS!" Maybe he was upstairs... or in the basement.
Then I heard heavy footsteps, and a man practically swung the door open and looks down at me, dark long hair hiding most of his forehead as a leather mask hid his nose down. It was rude of me to stare so I smile. "I'm y/n," I said.
He grunted and brushes past me, obviously already knowing where my car was at. I didn't take it as a rude thing. It was the heat, right?
He walked down, me behind his tall frame. He wore a dirty white shirt, pants the same way, but an imprint of his shirt, dirt outlines a tie like he wore a belt or an apron.
He grunts again and, without hesitation, fully opened the hood. I smile a little. He was endearing for someone who couldn't speak. His eyes spoke more than his mouth did.
Thomas lets out a breath, his sleeves rolled up slightly as he looked at the engine. His eyes gaze over the entire operation like he knew what he was doing.
He probably did. I stayed back and gave him space. Then he points to the back of the car, signaling my luggage.
"Oh... my luggage?" I ask.
He gestures again. That was a yes. I go to the door in the back and reach in, bent in slightly. I didn't hear him. He was so big you think I would've... but I did feel his large hands grab my waist and hoist me up like I was nothing.
He put me over his shoulder. I scream. Was this the end? "PUT ME DOWN!"
Thomas of course didn't listen... He felt the lightweight of my body and it made him realize just how big he was.
Would Momma let me keep her, he thought. He grunts as I kick and squirm, but all he did was grip the back of my bare thigh and bring me in the home.
It was bright due to the sun, the staircase upstairs the only mystery, and the smell of baking bread and onions... warm but not very comforting. I yell again, hitting his back, "LET GO, PLEASE!"
Thomas put me on the wooden floor rather roughly. My bottom hit the floor hard. I gasp but didn't dare move as he stood over me. His mother came in, hearing the bang. I didn't think she'd help either.
"Oh, look at her, Thomas," she said. "She'd make a beautiful wife."
My eyes widen. "What the f*ck!" I said out of disbelief.
Thomas bent over and grabbed my jaw, roughly. "Mmh!"
He watches me and grunts before he sighs. His mother nods. "If you don't like her, then you can just get rid of her."
Thomas suddenly slammed his fist to the hardwood floor, making everything shake, the glass on the shelf and the loose floorboards creak.
I squeeze my eyes shut and bit my lip. His mother knew that was a way of him saying "no!"
She obeys as Thomas put me over his shoulder again. "No!" I cried.
He gripped the bottom of my backside as his other hand held my legs against him, carrying me down the hall and opened a door, the basement.
He walks down the heavy creaking steps with stomps. He then set me down, rougher this time than upstairs. I gasp at the pain and tried to get away.
He grunts again and grabbed both my thighs with his large hands, pulling me back where he set me. I yell at the bruising grip he had on me.
I put my hands on his chest and try to push him away. He tilted his head at me, his eyes showed a soft gentle gaze, but his hands remained violent.
I cried finally to him, sobbing. "Please... let go. You're hurting me."
Thomas's eyes do a confusing thing like he didn't understand. He looked down at my thighs and saw the grip he had on me for trying to crawl away.
Thomas shook his head a little, so slightly I didn't even see it.
He grunts again, not letting go yet, almost admiring the way my skin turned white around his fingers, like he didn't understand his own strength. Then he let go.
He saw the smallness of my frame and reminded himself that he was large and I was small.
The pain stung and I groan slightly. He suddenly brought his hand to the side of my face. I flinch as he used his large rough fingers to touch the apple of my cheek.
He grumbles and looked back down at my thighs... He didn't like it. He tugged at the bottom of my dress and tried to cover my legs. He didn't care for hurting me as far as I could tell.
But his mother's words of "wife" had me shaking... Who are these people?
Thomas then touches my hair, the locks... He grumbles again, this one was deeper and longer, like he was saying, "you're mine now."
Even if he couldn't speak, I understood every word his eyes said. His eyes narrowed and his breathing got slower, like he shifted to a different person...
His large shoulders slump and he blinked at me slow... his way of saying "I won't hurt you."
The weapons around the basement walls and tables told me less than the truth... but when I looked in his eyes it told me it was true.
Thomas looked back down at my thighs and saw purple blooming on my skin.
Thomas brushes a surprisingly soft finger to an already purple bruise. Thomas shook his head again and grunted.
He wasn't angry or agitated... he was sorrowful.
Thomas looked back at my eyes and, admitting to himself, he saw an angel or something close to one if he's ever seen one. He grabbed my jaw again, this time gently, like he was learning his strength.
He brushes some spit off my lip and stands, grabbing rope. "No, please," I beg quietly.
He grunted and kneels again, without force, because for some reason he didn't want to see me hurting. It made him angry. He didn't understand.
He held out his large hand as the other gripped the rope... asking for my hands? I watched him. Why wasn't he using force anymore?
I gave him my hands. He put my wrists together before tying my hands... not enough to cause loss of circulation but enough to definitely cause a rash. He stood up again and took a last glance. His mask only let me see his eyes, his hair blocking most of his other features. He went back up the steps.
I heard chattering, creaking, and stomping... a door slams and opens... slamming again. I heard the footsteps and the basement door open. He was walking back down.
He was holding bright cloth, cleaner than his shirt... brighter than his hands. It was small, and when he got close enough I saw what it was. Clothes for me. A dress, a nightdress.
I scoot back. He just steps closer and gave it to me awkwardly... he didn't touch me, he didn't make eye contact as he untied me and stood again.
Privacy... he was giving me. He went back up the steps.
The sign was clear. Change... into this. Why? I didn't understand it but was scared what would happen if I didn't.
So I changed. I kept my shoes on and didn't dare remove anything else as I put the nightdress on. I immediately sat back down on the cold stone floor when I heard footsteps again, heavy ones.
Thomas came back, offering his hand. I stood... scared and nervous, but I took it.
He led me upstairs and to the right. The bright light made me squint due to being in the basement for a while.
The smell of meat and warm bread was getting closer as he approached the kitchen. His mother was there at the stove oven. Thomas grabbed both my shoulders gently, learning how to handle me; he sat me down at the table.
His mother turned her head and smiled slightly. "You're probably wondering what's going on."
I didn't say anything... I was confused. I asked for help and suddenly I was dragged into being a wife? What is this.
His mother put a glass of water down in front of me. Thomas stood close by... nearly breathing down my neck.
"You're going to get used to this, I can tell." His mother said, almost smoothly, condescending in a way. Creepy.
Thomas put his hand down on the table. His mother spoke up again, his back facing me. "If she's not the one, you take her down there and you–."
He slammed his fist down again, this time into the wooden table, making my glass of water shake violently. His mother jumped slightly. Was she scared of him too?
Basically he yelled "no!" in that slam, without saying a word. A grunt after.
His mother glanced back at him. She didn't say anything... she knew how Thomas was when he was angry, but she couldn't quite understand why he liked me so much he didn't want to kill me.
Precautions were made. I was locked in a bedroom... bed and blankets, but I didn't have any fitable windows, they knew that. Thomas didn't want to intrude...
Was this him? For the first time he felt no need for violence or karma. He felt warm inside. It almost aches him.
Thomas was outside the door the whole night... listening to the cries of confusion. He grunts a little again and grips the door handle.
I sobbed in the bed. This was a mistake. But then thinking about my parents, it would be a mistake to stay there too. Thomas, knowing his mother has the key, tried to jam the door.
I flinch at the loud banging and my heart raced too fast. I scream and cover my ears, a reflex. He finally broke the handle and the door slammed open. Again, he forgot his own strength.
I close my eyes, backed up against the wall right beside the bedside lamp. He realized again he was too rough and he scared me. His eyes did something complicated as he walked slowly, trying to keep his heavy footsteps quiet so as not to frighten me anymore.
He then got on his knees in front of me, still panting, my hands over my ears and my eyes squeezed shut.
Thomas gripped my wrists, not painfully but firmly. Guiding them off my ears and, as he did that, my eyes opened slowly.
He breathes a little heavy underneath the mask. I look at him, the way his hair dangles over his eyes and his mask hiding so much... why.
"Are you going to hurt me?" I whisper.
He tilted his head. His eyes watched me like I was something he's never seen before. It wasn't fear of how he looked, it was fear of the unknown. He saw that...
He grunted deeply. He put a lock of hair behind my ear and brought his face closer to mine. I only backed up a little, not too far from him. My head wasn't against the wall and his presence wasn't straining. He just watched me closely like an insect, but I was more than that to him.
He looked at the made bed, not messy. I hadn't been in it. He shook his head and gently grabbed both my arms.
I gasped. He lifted me up off my feet like I weighed nothing and he put me on the mattress. He didn't like his size, as he was always insecure about it, but he didn't shame me for mine or how big it made him feel.
He pointed to the pillow. I watched his finger point to the white pillow, clean. I knew what he was asking.
I lay back, right on my back, as he slipped the covers out from underneath my feet and put them over me. He gave me that same look before he sat in the wooden rocking chair on the other side of the bed, his heavy footsteps still making an attempt to keep them quiet.
He had just broken the door, so he would have to watch me, right? Or was this for another reason entirely.
All he could think of is me. If anything hurt me he'd take more joy than driven anger to kill someone... he watched me, hoping I wasn't scared enough not to sleep, but watching me fight it was almost endearing for him.
He didn't move in the chair and he waited for my eyes to get heavy enough before fighting off sleep was too much... he didn't stay because of the door, he stayed because he didn't want someone like his Momma hurting me, or anyone else.
He's made that clear.
‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊‧
my writing, do not take as your own or repost as your own ♡
I curled in slightly at the sound of the door opening and closing. It was 7pm, the same time he came home from long parties he’d rather not be at.
“Master Bruce,” Alfred began, but Bruce sighed and took off his suit coat.
“Not now, Alfred… I’ve got a migraine.” He explained as he glanced at me on the sofa. He noticed something might have been wrong, but Alfred interrupted.
“I can assure you, you’ll be quite angry if I don’t tell you,” Alfred said.
Bruce took the silence as an answer to finally listen. He loosened his tie as Alfred explained, “She’s gotten her period.”
I sat up. “Alfred!” my cheeks bloom red.
Bruce glanced at me, not embarrassed like I was, but he smirked a little. “That explains the fight this morning.”
Yes, me and Bruce did fight about the sheets and the bed-making… about the washing and the time spent doing it. It wasn’t a big deal to him—he was just tired. But he apologized nonetheless… he always did.
Alfred spoke up. “I gave her every painkiller I could access and yet she’s still uncomfortable.”
Bruce sighed and shook his head. “I’ve got it, Alfred. Thank you.”
Alfred left me and him alone in the living room. Bruce grabbed the remote from the sofa near my feet and turned it off, sitting down next to me.
He could feel the heat and pain coming off me. He patted his lap. “Come here, sweetheart.”
I scooted slowly from my position and onto his lap. He gently guided me down without touching any sensitive spots. He kissed my lips shortly. “Why didn’t you say you’re having your period?”
“Because you were angry this morning,” I said.
He sighed and rubbed his eye with his hand, tired. “Baby, I’m not going to take it out on you if you tell me you’re having a period.” He seemed exaggerated but kind.
“You just have that grumpy look on your face.” I smiled a little, teasing.
He managed to smile, a tired one. He chuckled and shook his head, his hand resting on my hip gently as his thumb rubbed my hip bone. “Does that make me unapproachable? I thought you said it was hot.”
“It is… not when you’re mad at me.”
He shook his head. “That was a lie.” He kissed me on my lips, slow and intimate.
But he felt the tension in my body, the one I was almost perfect at hiding. He pulled back and kissed my forehead. “Cramps?” He already knew.
I nodded, even though I didn’t need to. He nodded and rubbed my lower stomach, gently putting his rough hand on my bare skin. The small swell of my lower abdomen hurt and he could tell.
“Sweetheart,” he said, not as a question but in a way that showed how concerned he was.
He rocked me gently. “Did Alfred make you a hot water bottle?”
I shook my head a little. Bruce smiled and shook his head. “Did you even ask?”
I saw he was angry… I shook my head to answer his question and I could see how annoyed he was.
“If you’re in pain, for heaven’s sake, ask for help!” He didn’t snap, but he expressed his testimony to my pain.
I curled into him. “I just didn’t want to be a bother.”
“You think you’ll be a bother… you’re bleeding out of your control and you’re worried about that?” He laughed and rubbed my back gently as I curled in. “You’re beautiful but… insane.”
Later that night, when he was trying to get me in bed, I had a problem. It wasn’t important—at least I didn’t think he thought so—but I made a bigger deal.
I was physically uncomfortable and he understood that much. “What’s wrong?” He noticed I wouldn’t get in bed, biting my nail.
“I want to change the sheets…” I said.
He watched me. Confused, yes. Batman was confused. “What’s wrong with these? They’re clean.”
“They’re just uncomfortable.” He heard the shaking in my voice.
He approached me, not wanting to overstep. “Sweetheart, what’s really wrong?”
I looked up at him for a second. “I’m just really uncomfortable… and in pain.”
He rubbed my lower back. “I can get Alfred to get you a heating pad?” he asked gently.
I sat down on the edge of the bed and started to cry. He didn’t ask any more questions—he kissed the top of my head and called for Alfred. It wasn’t long before the butler arrived, and Bruce asked for the exact thing I needed.
“Sheets still bothering you?” he asked finally.
I shook my head.
I was too much in pain to even care now. He chuckled a little and shook his head, taking off his shirt as he always did before bed. “I thought so,” he said affectionately.
Though he would have never let me be uncomfortable. Once Alfred arrived with a heating pad, he gave it to Bruce. “Does she need anything else?” Alfred asked.
“No, thank you, Alfred,” Bruce said as he walked back toward me in bed.
Alfred left.
Leaving me and Bruce alone again. Bruce turned off the lamp beside his bed and put the heat against my stomach. “Come here, sweetheart.” He pulled me against him gently.
“Ow…” I said quietly, but curled against him.
He shushed me gently and kissed my head again. “Wake me up if you need me.”
I was able to sleep through some of the night. The sound of the clock ticking helped me fall into a deep sleep. Bruce snoring every couple moments comforted me.
But I was woken up by a sharp cramp in my stomach. I shot up. “Aah!”.
I cried out at the pain and gasped.
Bruce shot up as well, alert. He didn’t waste time turning on the lamp, though the dim light shining through the manor windows was enough. “Damn it,” he said, but he wasn’t angry.
He was worried—worried about how much pain my period was causing me. “Hey… breathe.” He rubbed my leg.
I winced and squeezed my eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. “It woke me up.”
He nodded. “Alfred?!” he shouted for him.
The hall light shined underneath the door and footsteps were heard. The door opened slowly, Alfred in his robe.
“Yes, Master Bruce?”
Bruce, holding onto my arm gently as I clutched my stomach. “I need 500 mg of acetaminophen, please.”
Alfred nodded, understanding the situation, and wandered off down the hall. Bruce gently tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Is it worse?”
I shook my head. “But it still hurts.”
“I know, baby,” he said softly.
I leaned forward and held my stomach with my arms. Bruce pulled me closer to him. “Try to relax,” he whispered.
Alfred returned with a glass of water and two pills in his palm. Without hesitation, I took the pills and Bruce gently guided me to lay back against him. He put his large hand against my stomach and sighed, thanking Alfred silently.
He rocked me gently, and as I began to close my eyes, he smiled—more relieved the pain wasn’t so bad that I couldn’t rest. And I fell into that deep sleep again.
In the morning he made sure I woke up with a warm bath started. He had already showered, smelling fresh—that woodsy smell he knew I loved—as he walked toward the bed as I stirred and stretched.
He smiled down at me, his grey-streaked hair damp and over his forehead. “I have a bath ready for you,” he said quietly.
I smiled tiredly and sat up slowly. “I’m sorry about keeping you awake.”
He helped me out of bed slowly. “I was awake.” He lied. He kissed the top of my head, my messy hair.
He helped me into the bathroom. A knock at the doorframe made Bruce turn his head. It was Alfred. “Breakfast?” Alfred said.
Bruce smiled slightly. “Yes. She’s having a bath first.”
Alfred nodded before leaving. Bruce helped me out of my shirt and my shorts. He was gentle taking off the rest of my clothes, kissing my shoulder as he lowered me into the warm water. He soaked my hair gently and kissed my cheek. “How’s the pain?”
“Better than last night.” He could tell it was still bothering me. Maybe I felt like a bother or maybe I felt too tired to tell the truth.
He eyed me and gave a half smile. He helped me wash up and dry off, getting me into clean clothes before putting on a shirt himself. But he didn’t miss the quick glance I gave him. He smirked and kissed my head again. “Keep your pretty little mind to yourself,” he teased.
I smiled a little and touched his hand before he put product in his hair. It was a slow day today… and he was okay with that. He led me downstairs, my steps slow—maybe I was tired or maybe I had lied to him.
He sat me down on the sofa and rubbed my hair before standing and walking toward Alfred in the kitchen. “Make her something warm,” he said simply. Alfred nodded.
He grabbed the Midol from the counter and gave me two pills. Gently he kissed my lips before I took them, thanking him. He took care of me until my period ended… not just when it got better, but when it ended completely. Batman took care of his girl.
I begged Obi-Wan to teach me how to be a Jedi, and I never thought he'd say no. He had trained women before and succeeded. He was even eager when he first found out I wanted him to be my teacher. But this morning… this morning was a terrible way to start.
I didn’t tell him that when I woke up I was bleeding, or that I was having the worst cramps imaginable.
I got into appropriate clothing and exited my bedroom, only to run straight into 3-PO. Great.
He muttered something along the lines of, “Oh dear, you look awful.”
I sighed and stopped for him. “Thanks a lot, 3-PO.”
“I was only trying to help. You’re seeing Kenobi, aren’t you?” he continued.
“Yes, I am. Why?”
“You want to look your best,” he said, as if suggesting I liked Obi-Wan in some way. I just blushed and pushed him off.
Dumb robot, I thought—though I knew he meant well. Once I reached the Council chamber where Obi-Wan would be, I had to wait outside the doors so I wouldn’t interrupt. I rubbed my lower stomach as another cramp rolled through me, trying as hard as I could not to make a face.
I heard light chatter inside, then Obi’s voice saying goodbye. I quickly straightened up as the doors opened. “Ah—Y/N,” he said, smiling down at me. “Ready for training?”
I nodded, even though it felt like a lie. “Yes, of course.”
He nodded back and gestured for me to follow, so I did. I tried to keep up with him, but he turned his gaze toward me for a moment as we walked down the hall. “You’re rather slow this morning.”
I cleared my throat. “I didn’t sleep well.”
“Are you able to focus, at least?” he asked softly.
“I can,” I nodded. “Yes.”
The travel to the Federal District felt twice as long with my cramps. If I wasn’t feeling this off, it wouldn’t have been so hard, and I wouldn’t have been so worried about how exhausted I already felt.
Once we reached the Jedi Temple, he led me inside—somewhere I’d seen before but never thought I’d actually be training in. I bit my lip to hide the agony twisting in my stomach.
Obi-Wan folded his arms and looked at my expression carefully. “Is everything alright?”
I snapped out of it. “Yeah… sorry.”
He didn’t look convinced. “Are you well enough to handle a lightsaber? Tell me the truth.”
I hesitated. His eyes told me he wanted nothing more than to train me. “…Yes.”
“I don’t believe you,” he said with a small, teasing smile. But he meant it. “You’re pale and shaking. You really thought I wouldn’t notice? This is more than nerves.”
I sighed. “I can train. You know that.”
“Oh, I know that very well,” he said, circling me slowly. “You can do anything you put your mind to. But this isn’t up for debate.”
I watched him, unable to lie anymore. Every time I tried to speak up, the words got stuck. He noticed the hesitation—and the way I kept clenching my fists.
He softened, feeling the sudden shift in me. Using the Force, he sensed the pain. He understood now. “Do you need to take a break?”
“No,” I said flatly.
He used the Force to open the door again, completely ignoring my answer. “There’s nothing wrong with letting your body rest.”
“I’m fine, Obi-Wan,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I just want to train. I’ve been waiting months for this.”
He chuckled sweetly. “You look like you’re being held up by a string.”
I scoffed. “You just don’t want to train me,” I muttered, my emotions slipping out of control.
He rested a hand on my lower back, seeing how worked up I was. It wasn’t my fault—he knew that.
“Being a Jedi doesn’t mean pushing through what your body and mind are telling you. It means listening.”
I couldn’t find the words. I held my stomach and leaned forward. “Oow…”
Now he looked truly concerned. He brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “Let’s get you back to your room. You need rest.”
I wanted to argue, to stop him, but there was nothing left to excuse. The pain finally took over. Standing too long, how pathetic, I thought. Did he think that too?
I didn’t want to be a handful or embarrass him.
Using the Force, Obi-Wan felt everything I was feeling—past the cramps, past the nausea. He felt the emotion toward him that I tried so hard to swallow. He helped me back to my room and into bed.
“You have no need to be embarrassed,” he said gently.
I closed my eyes, biting down on my lip as another wave hit.
“If you’re experiencing severe menstrual pain, you need to tell me instead of pushing it down,” he continued, opening my closet with a flick of his fingers. “I’m your teacher. I care about you. …Possibly more than I’d like to admit.”
He placed soft clothes on the bed. “I’ll fetch a medical droid for pain relief. Get comfortable.”
When he left, I finally changed. My stomach was swollen, tender, and so sore I wondered how I even walked earlier. I crawled back into bed, placing my hands over my stomach as if I could press the pain away.
Soon, Obi-Wan returned with a small, plain white bottle. He put it in my hand. “This will help with the pain—and the bleeding.”
I opened it to find black capsules. I swallowed one with water. He nodded, relieved I finally accepted help. “Do you need anything else?”
“Can I train tomorrow?” I asked.
He raised his brows slightly. “No. You’re having at least three days to recover.”
“Three?!” I exclaimed.
He walked closer and placed a hand on my shoulder. “You cannot control the Force if something else is overwhelming you. And trust me—I’ve trained women Jedi before.”
“I could recover tomorrow.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. “That’s not what your body is telling me.” His voice softened. “The training isn’t going anywhere, Y/N.”
“The point of a Jedi isn’t to be weak to pain,” I sighed.
He smiled gently and tucked another strand of hair behind my ear, the gesture almost tender. “The point of being a Jedi right now is surviving the hardest part of the month,” he said, surprisingly sincere.
Suddenly, a sharp, stabbing pain hit me and I doubled forward, crying out. “Aah!”
He caught me, hands on my shoulders, keeping me steady. “Deep breath… Can I try something?”
I nodded quickly, desperate. Tears pricked my eyes, heat rushing to my face. Obi-Wan placed his hand lightly over my lower stomach. He was nervous he might hurt me, but he steadied himself and closed his eyes, letting the Force flow through him.
Then...relief. Actual relief washed over me.
He pulled back slowly, watching my expression ease. “Better?”
“…Yes. Thank you, Obi.”
He nodded. He didn’t want to leave me that night, either.
When I woke later, my room dimly lit, he was placing a warm water bottle gently against my belly. He wasn’t going anywhere till morning.
He sat in a chair beside the bed, watching over me, though he dozed off a few times. Every time pain made me shift or whimper, it jolted him awake.
He tried to soothe me with the Force again and again, wanting me to rest.
Eventually, he moved closer, not to wake me but to help, rubbing my lower back softly until the tension left my body. I slipped in and out of sleep, finally getting a few hours of relief.
And in the morning, he was still there. Ready to help if the pain returned. Ready to stay even if it didn’t.
Maybe he cared a little too much. Maybe it went against his code to feel this way about a student. To be in love? But he wasn’t denying it anymore.
synopsis: Hannibal doesn't want you to take painkillers for your period
tw: controlling behavior, menstrual pain and blood, cannibalism
-
I thought I could make it through the day without making Hannibal my personal therapist. Though he is a psychiatrist, I wanted him to have a day off from working—especially from dealing with his daily patients.
He never seemed to get tired. So when I woke up from my nap, I heard him cooking something in the kitchen. I never asked what he was making—he always had a reply ready anyway. I usually knew what it was, and because he fed me, I always ate.
I stepped into the kitchen to see him cutting up meat. I thought maybe I could hide what was going on instead of explaining it and having him ask more questions.
He could smell me the moment I walked in, though he knew it was never anything unpleasant. It was soft, always clean. But he smelled something else too—something he’d smelled before.
“Up already, darling?” he spoke softly.
“I’m sorry—” I started as I walked in.
He shook his head, setting the knife down. “You needed it. Why are you apologizing?”
I watched him as I approached the counter he was working over. “I don’t know.”
He glanced at the red meat—it wasn’t that. Then he looked back down at me. “I already know. You don’t need to keep it a secret.”
I felt slightly confused. “I didn’t—”
He kissed my forehead. “You know how I know…”
He picked the knife back up and continued cutting. “I’ll run you a bath once I get this done. Yes?”
I nodded. “I’ll be upstairs.”
He gave me time to get situated. He knew how my period affected me, and he didn’t want me to feel embarrassed—even if he did get frustrated when I did. He always said I was embarrassed, and as much as he loved it… he hated it too.
Once he washed up and walked up the steps, he found me sitting in a towel beside the bath, curled slightly from the cramping pain in my stomach. He rubbed my hair for a moment before turning the water hot. He opened the drawer soon after and pulled out a pill bottle—only to toss it back in like it disgusted him.
“You’ll try only natural remedies, unless it gets too painful.” He smiled faintly.
I frowned, confused. “Why not the painkillers?”
He sighed, testing the water temperature. “You must trust me. I’m going to do a little experiment on you—but I won’t be harsh, darling.” He rubbed my thigh slowly.
“You have to understand that no matter how anyone explains it to you, your blood is precious—no matter how it exits your body.” He helped me stand. “And the pain that comes with it is too. But I will only let you take painkillers if you’re begging in pain. Am I clear?”
I nodded as he gently removed the towel. Without letting his gaze linger, he helped me lower into the warm water. The heat soothed the pain up my legs and into my lower back. I sighed, sinking into it.
He smiled faintly at the relief on my face. He gently soaked my hair, and without disturbing me further, he dimmed the lights and grabbed a soft towel from the counter.
“I’ll make sure you have heat in bed and some tea. Please don’t try to exit the bath without my help.” He kissed my hand before walking out toward the bedroom.
I felt cared for—genuinely. Even if he was experimenting on me, he was doing it for my well-being. He once told me painkillers interfere with the brain and body. Maybe he was right… I couldn’t say.
The warm water continued to soothe my aching body as I sank deeper, my nose nearly touching the surface. I drifted into a near-sleep state, eyes closing—until I felt soft but urgent hands on my wrists, pulling me up slightly.
He studied me carefully, saying nothing—just giving me a knowing look, as if I’d done something I shouldn’t have. I didn’t argue, and neither did he. He simply helped me dress and guided me to the bedroom, where blankets were already waiting.
“I need you to stay in bed for a couple of hours. Listen to music. Calm your mind.” It almost sounded like an order, but his voice remained soothing.
He helped me into bed.
“Hannibal?” I askedd quietly.
“Hmm?” he hummed, dimming the lamp beside us.
“I’m hungry…” I admitted, almost nervously.
He smirked slightly, straightening. “And what are you hungry for? Lamb? Rabbit?”
I thought for a moment. “It’s fruit, Hannibal.”
Was he disappointed? He nodded. “If that’s what your body is telling you. But I recommend red meat to help restore what you’re losing.”
He smiled gently, reassuring me it was okay to ask. He seemed relieved I wasn’t feeling sick. He couldn’t say no—not to me.
He always prepared healthy meals, especially during times like this. By the time he joined me in bed, I had everything I needed. He eventually fell asleep, though not without unease. The thought of me being in pain lingered—was he too hard on me? Too strict?
He wrapped an arm around my waist, grounding himself in the rise and fall of my breathing.
But around midnight, I sat up suddenly, sharp pain pulling me out of sleep. I groaned softly, swinging my feet off the bed.
I tried to make it to the restroom but had to grab onto the desk. “Ah—!”
He was awake instantly at the sound, as if sleep had no hold on him at all. “Darling.” He was beside me in seconds, a hand steadying my back. “Cramps again.”
It wasn’t a question.
“I’ll get you some tea.”
“I need painkillers, Hannibal!” I cried, the pain overwhelming.
He sighed at my reaction, clearly wanting to resist—but seeing me like this was too much. And he had endured far worse things in life… eating human beings not good enough to even live, but I didn’t deserve this.
“Very well.”
He went to the bathroom, retrieving the pills he had discarded earlier, along with a glass of water. When he returned, I was curled up on the bed again.
“Open,” he instructed.
I obeyed, and he placed a pill on my tongue before handing me the water. I swallowed, wincing as another wave of pain hit.
He shushed me gently, rubbing my thighs. “I thought you could do it this time,” he murmured.
“I can’t, Hannibal. I’m sorry,” I whispered.
He shook his head, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Don’t apologize for pain… or anything else you cannot control.” He kissed my forehead, waiting for my breathing to steady.
“We’ll try again tomorrow. But for now…” He gently laid me back down, pulling the blankets over me and making sure the heat rested against my stomach.
synopsis: you have your period, and Luke can sense your pain
tw: menstruation, period cramps, non-sexual physical touch, emotional distress
-
Luke came back into his homestead, spotting me in the chair right by the entrance. 3PO was chattering about something I wasn’t even worried about at the moment, and Luke was filled with that energy he always had—but he was very empathetic and noticed emotions well, even if he couldn’t always understand them. But this one, he could.
“Hey,” he came to me slowly and touched my bare knee that peeked out from my dress, the only thing keeping me cool in the heat of the planet. “You okay?” He tilted his head, noticing the slight discomfort in my expression.
I looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Luke,” I began.
He shook his head and kneeled next to me, now at my height. “You just don’t look like you’re feeling well. I—I can ask Uncle Owen to get—”
I cut him off gently. “It’s not something he can fix, Luke.” He couldn’t understand, and I was scared if I told him, he still wouldn’t. “I’m just… having cramps in my stomach.”
He nodded and looked to the sandy floor before looking back at me. “I understand. I’ll get you something warm, okay? You could have just said you’re having… your period.”
I smiled a little as he spoke—deep down, he knew. He smiled back. “I’ll be right back!”
He stood up and left the homestead, leaving me with that annoying robot talking and talking. The robot finally noticed what Luke did. “Oh my,” he started, “you look dreadful.”
Luke came back in, hearing the robot talk to me like that. He rolled his eyes. “Leave her be, 3PO.” He carried a warm water bottle—an odd shape, odd color—but I was in so much pain I couldn’t care less.
He gently placed it on my stomach and kept his eyes on me to make sure he was being careful enough. “You know, you’re not the only girl on Tatooine. There are things I can get to help that sort of pain.”
I smiled at him again, curled up. “I think this is helping for now.”
He nodded and bit his lip awkwardly, looking around the room before speaking again. “Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”
3PO chattered again before I could speak, making Luke roll his eyes. “Ignore him. He’s convinced he knows everything, but I beg to differ.”
I smiled a little. “I’m fine, Luke.”
Luke nodded slightly. “You know, they have these special drinks at the cantina.”
“I’m not going into that bar. There are no humans there,” I said, curling up tighter.
He smiled at that. “It’s not like the aliens would think you’re strange or anything. They’d stare because you’re… you know… pretty.” He almost blushed.
I smiled a little. “All the way there just for a drink I don’t even know will work—and you haven’t even charged your landspeeder.”
He looked slightly surprised. “How did you know I didn’t?”
“Because I heard your uncle yelling at you about it.” I giggled a little.
He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Oh. Well… I forget.”
When the two suns started setting and everything became cooler, my cramps died down too. But Luke didn’t—he was still worried about a lot of things, about me. “You don’t need to sleep in that chair. You can take my bed, you know.”
I shook my head and smiled. “I think I’m—” I cut off suddenly, the pain stabbing my stomach like a sharp blade pressing into me. I let out a soft sigh. “Ah…”
He grew concerned and gently touched my shoulder. “I’ll get Uncle Owen.”
“He can’t do anything about this, Luke!” I gasped slightly.
He shook his head. “You don’t know that. Don’t be embarrassed, y/n. You’re in pain, and you don’t need to be embarrassed about that. Period or not.”
I watched him disappear, then come back with his uncle behind him. I was obviously embarrassed and less comfortable, but Luke had his own ideas. Once Luke told him the situation, Uncle Owen gave him a look.
“Well,” Owen began, sighing like he was disappointed, “there are lots of things you can solve—and this—” he gestured to me, “she needs you, not me.”
He patted Luke’s back as he walked off. Luke stood there, eyes wide and shocked.
I smiled a little at him. He was confused.
Luke shook his head and walked back to me. “I really thought he wouldn’t give me another lesson this time. I can charge my speeder—we can go to the cantina.”
I shook my head. “Even if we can, I don’t think I’m well enough to stand up.”
He looked concerned and walked closer, gently rubbing my leg. “Are the cramps getting worse? Here, let me warm this up again.”
He tried to grab the oddly shaped water bottle from my stomach, but I clutched it out of pain and gasped. He grew more concerned, resting his hand on my stomach. “Here, you need to lie down, okay? I’ll help you.”
He stuttered as he helped me over to the bed in the corner. He gently patted some dust away before laying me down. “Breathe, okay?” He moved the hair out of my face.
“It really hurts, Luke.” I closed my eyes.
He nodded, understanding, and wiped the tear from my temple. “Do you need me to do something?” He looked a little lost, but so careful. “Can I help the pain somehow?”
I breathed deeply, the pain stabbing my stomach like a knife. I curled up on my side, managing to speak. “Can you stay with me tonight?”
He nodded without hesitation. He grabbed an extra blanket from the chair and came back to me. “I’ll stay with you—but tomorrow morning I need to help my uncle clean the droids.”
He got in beside me and awkwardly let my head rest on his chest. He was a little unsure, but he cared too much to be embarrassed by any of it—not even my period.
The next morning, I managed to slip out of bed and saw Luke cleaning the droids outside. This time, there was no sandstorm, and I could see everything clearly—but there wasn’t much to see. I was starting to understand why Luke hated it here.
He waved at me. “Feeling better?”
I nodded a little. “Sort of. Definitely considering the cantina.”
He chuckled. “I don’t blame you—but you don’t need to be out here. Uncle Owen understands if you don’t want to be up and running around.”
I smiled at him. “I just wanted to thank you for helping me…”
He nodded and gazed at me like there was glitter all over my face. “I—of course. You couldn’t help it.”
He glanced at my lips for a moment before smiling and looking back to his uncle. “I should get back to work.”
I nodded. I could feel my cramps getting just as bad as last night, so I went back down to the homestead and sat in that same chair. Luckily, he was cleaning the droids, so I didn’t have to listen to 3PO talking for hours.
I curled up and bit my lip, hoping the pain would go away. I held my breath and let it out slowly, but it didn’t help. I started crying quietly, gripping my stomach, hoping to feel better—but I was just lying to myself.
Then I heard Luke coming back down the steps. He didn’t see me at first as he grabbed a spare part from the table. “You okay?” He spotted me, he noticed.
I couldn’t talk this time. No time for an excuse. I let out a gasp, and he shook his head, walking toward me. “Hey, look at me.”
I couldn’t even do that. He knelt by the chair and gently rubbed my thighs. “Have you tried breathing?” he asked, wincing, knowing it might be a stupid question.
I nodded, crying. “Yes.”
He nodded and looked around. There wasn’t much he could do. He felt helpless—but that wasn’t new for him. He shook his head and held one of my hands.
“You know… you could go lay in the warm sand out there. Maybe it’ll help the pain? I- I know it sounds stupid, but…” He sounded like he was almost begging.
“The sand?” I asked, tearfully.
He nodded gently. “Yes. Warmth helps the pain, so maybe the sand could. I understand if you don’t want to stand up.”
I was tired, in pain, and confused. “I can’t.”
“Come here.” He sat down on the floor and opened his arms.
I got off the chair slowly and scooted closer. He pulled me gently into his lap, brushing my hair back behind my shoulders before placing both his hands on my back. He just held me—as gently as I needed. At times, he could feel the pain get worse, and at the peak of it, he would press his lips softly to my forehead.
He wondered if it was too much—if maybe I wasn’t paying attention to what I needed because of embarrassment. But I didn’t need that right now, and he knew that. He adjusted my dress around my legs carefully. He didn’t touch anywhere inappropriate—not just because his cheeks were red, but because this mattered.
My pain mattered to him.
He didn’t understand why he felt it so strongly. Luke placed his hand over mine whenever I clutched my stomach or whimpered. “Shh,” he would gently hush—not to quiet me, but to let me know he heard me.
He hoped the next day would be easier for me.
But for now, he just held me until it got a little better…
I didn’t need to explain it anymore. He understood.
I was sitting on the bench outside, everyone else inside doing what they do on a rainy day. I was sheltered by the roof above my head. It was the breeze and the sound that calmed me. I’d woken up uncomfortable in my own skin, unable to fit the way I wanted to in my dress.
I’d been crying over the smallest things—how the milk was expired, how there wasn’t any more fruit grown by Fiona. I was tired and irritable. And now, as I tried to enjoy the rain, it only got worse when I felt someone pull my hair.
“Ow!”
It was Enoch. He spoke up, flatly. “That didn’t hurt. Do you want me to pull harder?”
I rolled my eyes. “Go away, Enoch.”
Enoch looked around, unfazed by my snapping. “You seem cheerful today. Come inside before I get in trouble.”
I turned to face him. “You? In trouble? You’re not in charge of me.”
Enoch glared down at me, crossing his arms over his chest. “No? I’m in charge of everyone here when Miss Peregrine’s not around.”
I stood up. “Then stay away from me.”
I walked inside, him right behind me. No—he wasn’t going to listen.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asked, almost offended.
“Like you’d care.” I headed upstairs.
Enoch followed. “You seem so sure, yet you won’t even try to tell me—”
I cut him off, walking down the hall into my bedroom and slamming the door shut. He grumbled under his breath, trying to figure out what was wrong with me, but nothing clicked. Did he take it too far? No. She deserves it, he told himself.
But even that made him feel bad.
Enoch went to his room, deciding to calm his mind with another one of his creations. Meanwhile, I tried to calm myself. My emotions were all over the place, and I felt physically irritated—my skin, my hair… my clothes.
I pulled off my dress and lay in bed, curling up. “Stupid boy,” I muttered.
Around 6:30 p.m., just before the reset, Enoch knocked on my door.
“Don’t—”
He cut me off from the other side. “Yes, yes, I won’t open the door. Hence why I knocked.”
I rolled my eyes and sat up. “What is it?”
He smiled slightly, though I couldn’t see it. “It’s almost dinner.”
I hesitated. Did I feel like going? I had to. There was too much going on, and an empty stomach would only make it worse.
I changed into something more comfortable and opened the door—only to find Enoch already gone.
Standing in the doorway, I smelled the warm scent of carrot soup and fresh biscuits. It settled my stomach just enough to ease my nerves.
Once downstairs, I took my usual spot at the table—next to Enoch, near the end, with Horace beside me. He was already serving himself and passed me a bowl of hot soup.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. Horace nodded.
Enoch almost glared at me, but I ignored it. Everyone talked about their day, but when Miss Peregrine asked about mine, I simply said, “I had a nap…”
She nodded, watching as Enoch’s expression softened. I didn’t look at him—only at my food, while everyone’s voices blurred together.
I closed my eyes for a moment, thinking I’d blocked everything out—until Enoch tried to whisper to me.
I ignored him. He knew that.
“Hey…” he tried. “What’s gotten into you?”
I stayed silent, though I knew everyone else was pretending not to notice.
“Stupid girl,” he muttered under his breath, tugging lightly at my hair again.
I opened my eyes, expecting another pull—but instead, jelly from a nearby dish was smeared into the ends of my hair. He’d grabbed a handful and just—
I stood up and let out a high-pitched scream.
Enoch flinched, clearly not expecting that reaction.
Everyone stared, but I didn’t care. I slapped him.
He stood abruptly, a red mark forming on his cheek. Miss Peregrine rose too. “That’s enough, Enoch!”
I didn’t want to cry—but I did. I ran upstairs, tears spilling over.
Miss Peregrine moved to follow me, but stopped to scold him instead. “Go apologize.”
Enoch tossed his napkin aside and pushed his chair back. “You haven’t seen what she’s been like all day.”
Miss Peregrine fixed him with a dark look. “That is no excuse to make things worse for her. Go.”
He glanced at the others for only a second before heading upstairs. He meant to ignore her and go to his room—but then he heard me sobbing from the hallway bathroom.
He clenched his fist and walked to the door, almost against his will. He raised his hand and knocked.
“Enoch, if that’s you, go away!” I yelled.
“Yeah, well, Miss Peregrine isn’t giving me much of a choice,” he said flatly—then added, softer, “But I am sorry.”
The sincerity in his voice almost shocked me.
I was trying—and failing—to rinse the sticky jelly from my hair. I opened the door, half my hair wet, my dress ruined.
When he saw me, something twisted in his chest. Why did he feel like this?
“Here.” He stepped inside without asking, grabbing the bottle of shampoo. “Soak your hair.”
I listened, kneeling by the bath and turning on the warm water. As I soaked my hair, I felt his fingers—gentler than I expected—working the soap through it.
He glanced at my closed eyes, telling himself he was only doing this to ease that bad feeling. But it felt like more than that now.
He rinsed my hair and handed me a cloth.
Crossing his arms, he watched me, the tension in his face eased. “I just wanted you to look at me,” he said quietly.
I met his gaze, squeezing the water from my hair. “Well, I clearly didn’t.”
He clenched his jaw. “Why don’t you just tell me why you’ve been so… moody?”
I hesitated, embarrassed. “It’s nothing.”
He scoffed. “Nothing? So the crying, screaming… and slapping me was nothing?”
I bit my lip. “It’s PMS, Enoch.”
He paused, thrown off—but he understood.
“PMS,” he repeated. “So all of that was because you’re… sensitive?”
“It’s more than that. My body feels out of control,” I said, trying not to cry again.
He nodded slowly, looking around the bathroom. “Can I do anything to help? Are you on your period?”
I flushed, but answered anyway. “No.”
“I’ll get you a water bottle,” he said, already turning to leave. Before I could respond, he was gone.
Downstairs, he ignored the stares as he went to the kitchen. Miss Peregrine peeked in. “I see you’re helping now?”
He showed no emotion. “She asked for it,” he said, walking past her. He knew that was a lie.
Back upstairs, he found my bedroom door open. I was brushing my damp hair in front of the mirror.
He paused, almost dazed, before shaking himself out of it.
He held out a black water bottle wrapped in a soft cloth. “Here.”
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
He nodded, lingering.
“And… I’m sorry for hitting you.”
He hid a smirk. “I deserved it.”
I placed the bottle against my stomach, watching my reflection. He noticed the unhappiness in my expression—and without asking, without saying anything—he stepped behind me and began braiding my hair.
It surprised me. The way he took care of me—not just out of guilt.
It helped.
He guided me to bed, and I watched him as he watched me. Our eyes shared something quiet, unspoken.
“Why are you so mean to me, Enoch?” I finally asked.
His chest tightened. He sighed. “Because I don’t know what to say.”
“To me?”
He nodded. “Because you make me feel… different.”
I thought about that, unsure what he meant—but before I could dwell on it, he stood to leave.
Not before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head. Neither of us said anything. Then he left.
