Gods.

Last night, I woke up.

Bam.

I was awake.

Pitch dark.

Couldn't think. Couldn't breath.

But felt.

Oh, the cramping.

My period started yesterday, you see.

It wasn't bad at first. Just a trickle of blood. No cramps at all.

But last night.

I woke up. Got up. Cleaned up. And realized just how much pain I was in.

Crawling back to bed, with Mike giving that contented lover's noise as he flops a warm arm across my shoulders, I whispered:

"Hey, are you awake?"

Grunt. Pause. "Yeah."

"Do you have any painkillers?"

"Mm. No. Why?"

"I am currently in an extrordinary amount of pain."

Silence.

"I'll be fine, though. Go back to sleep."

Worried grunt, a squeeze, and then silence again.

And I lay on my back for I don't know how long. Eyes shut. Floating between sleep and wakefulness. Trying to surpress the pain that tore through my knees, hips, thighs and abdomen.

Eventually, like always, it subsided and I fell asleep.

This morning, draped in lazy warmth over Mike's chest, he grunted, stroking my hair.

I got up. Went to bathroom. Cleaned up. Came back.

"How're you doing?"

"Non-cramping."

"Good. I was going to get up and run over to Mohawk--"

Side Note: Mohawk is a gas station, the only 24 hour thing in town, and it's at least a ten-fifteen minute run at top speed away.

"--and get you painkillers until you fell asleep on me."

"Mmm. The cramps went away after a while."

But today I did get up and get a little bottle of painkillers to keep over at Mike's place.

You know.

Just in case.

.

Rosie.

Before&After