11.

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Summer 2010
Monaco

The morning after Ginny bled through her dress, she was in a whole lot of pain. Everything hurt. She'd woken up to a toe-curling cramp that resulted in her sprinting to the bathroom. Similar to the Gasly decor, the upstairs bathroom of the Leclerc's was painted an ocean blue that reminded her of the Atlantic.

There was an old-timey sailboat in the distance that had ripped sails and holes in the wood, like it was sinking. A few paintings hung on the wall like the compass and seagull. Ginny tried to focus on them as the peered into the mirror, but her mind raced with the surge of pain in her gut. She gripped the counter like her life depended on it, turning her knuckles ghostly white.

There was a knock on the door, making her jump. Ginny paused for a moment, unsure of what to do, but finally whispered, "Someone's in here."

"Ginny?" Pierre's voice sounded from the other side. He couldn't have had worse timing than that. He was snickering against the door and Ginny caught a glimpse of his shadow just below the crack where the carpet was visible. "You taking a shit or something?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, groaning, and not just because of the pain. "Go away, Pierre!"

"I need to use the toilet." He banged hard on the door, causing Ginny to flinch. "You know, the one you're blowing up right now."

Ginny shook her head, noticing the heavy sweat formation on her forehead. Was it normal to cramp this much? Was she having a complication? Nicole had explained that the first time is always tough, but this was on another level... and she'd been bleeding through her pads in less than an hour. She let out a shaky breath, wishing anyone else in the house would have knocked. "Use the one downstairs!"

"Non, je ne veux pas non plus." He was banging the door with both hands now, bringing them down simultaneously in a thunderstorm of sound. "Oh, je n'ai même pas essayé la poignée."

She got the first part: he didn't want to use the downstairs. The second though, something about a handle? Ginny's eyes widened and she leaped for the golden knob, grabbing it with both her pale hands in hopes she could hold off the devil incarnate.

She failed.

Pierre had gotten to the handle first and shoved the door open with a push from his shoulder. Ginny fell backwards on her butt, wincing in pain as her cramp heightened. Pierre stood over her, holding his nose as he chuckled. "It even smells like shit in here."

He was in his pajamas... looking significantly less intimidating than the majority of the time, yet Ginny still kicked her feet out in fear and trembled towards the tub. His dirty blonde hair was shaggy from his sleep and he had some bags under his eyes, like Pauline.

Ginny wished her older sister had come too- she really needed her help with all this girl stuff. It wasn't the same with her mom. It just made things more terrifying. Pauline would've found the proper humor. But Pierre was definitely not who she wanted to help her with all the blood... not that he would. Charles had been the one to originally save the day, but he must have still been asleep.

"I haven't even used the bathroom! You're just making things up!" Ginny pleaded, slowly tugging on the towel bar for assistance standing up.

Pierre opened his mouth to speak, but something must have caught his attention. His sea green eyes lowered to the white, marbled, floor, where Ginny followed his gaze. She let out a gasp. Pierre furrowed his eyebrows, whipping his head back to their eye level. Ginny prepared herself for the worst.

He was going to come up with the filthiest insult that would make her cry, which seemingly didn't take much now that her emotions were running wild. But for another strange time, unlike his actions yesterday, Pierre grabbed her shoulders and turned her around so she was facing the wall across from them.

"You've bled through your shorts." He murmured against her ear. "Ça Va? Does it hurt?"

Ginny's lips parted in awe. The sliver of kindness in him was showing. She rarely saw that anymore, but here he was, yet again... like a switch had been pulled. "It really hurts. My mom gave me medicine last night but it wore off. I think something might be wrong..."

"Wrong?" Pierre wobbled behind her. He never let go of her shoulders, only turned her around to face him again. Their faces were much closer than before. Pierre's bushy eyebrows raised in concern. "Do you need to go to the emergency room?"

"No!" Ginny grabbed onto his wrists. As much pain as she was in, she feared hospitals more. She shook her head quickly. "No hospitals... please."

Pierre leaned back, biting his bottom lip in thought. "When my sister got... you know... my mom rubbed her stomach and apparently all this blood came out. But my sister said she felt a lot better afterwards. Maybe I should do that."

"Rub my stomach?" Ginny had a horrible thought he might actually punch her in the stomach rather than rub. "Is no one else awake?"

"No." Pierre shook his head, looking slightly offended. "You think I'd be suggesting this if anyone else was awake?"

The regular Pierre. Devil incarnate. Ginny gritted her teeth. "Fine. Just let me stand in the tub. I don't want to get more blood on the floor."

Pierre nodded and followed her to the bathtub. He stood just outside of it, while Ginny leaned against the wall. He extended his hand and hovered in the air for a second. His eyes never met hers, they were stuck on her stomach that was covered by an oversized green tee shirt.

He took a breath and pressed his hand against her shirt. He started to rub soft circles from the right to left. She felt some tension ease in her cramps. But she could also feel a lot of blood oozing out of her body. She winced a few times when it felt like a glob was squeezing through her.

"Are you okay, Étoile?"

Ginny felt some tears pricking her eyelids. "No... I'm not okay. I hate feeling helpless like this."

"You're not helpless." Pierre paused, lowering his voice. "I'm right here. I'm going to make you feel better. We'll get this cleaned up."

"Why are you being nice to me?"

Pierre looked into her eyes. "What?"

"Ginny! Are you okay, mon chéri?" Charles was standing in the doorway. They'd forgotten the door was left open. Ginny startled at the sound. She met his yellow-green eyes and worried Pierre might flip the switch again in his presence. She was right. He did. Pierre shoved Ginny in her gut, causing her to scream in agony. Charles whirred past Pierre and jumped inside the tub to grab Ginny.

"What's your problem!?" He yelled at the dirty blonde, who was sending them a dirty look.

"You always want to play a hero don't you?"

Charles furrowed his brows. "What does that have to do with Ginny?"

Pierre shook his head, looking at her with a frown. "Clearly, you haven't realized."

With that, he walked out of the bathroom, leaving Ginny filled with questions. Charles held her in his arms, not caring that he was standing in a pool of blood. "Did he hurt you?"

"He was trying to help... at first." Ginny whispered. "I'm having some real bad cramps, Char."

"He pushed you." Charles reminded with his brows furrowed. "I'm going to get a rag from the linen closet. I'll clean up the floor and then start a warm bath for you. When our parents wake up, they can give you medicine."

"Thank you, Charles." Ginny squeezed him tight. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize." He smiled. "I'll be right back."

He departed for the rags. Ginny was left in silence that seemed loud in her ears. Why had Pierre, yet again, switched his behavior so suddenly. Because of Charles? Because of her? She felt another cramp coming on and slid down the wall. Will the pain ever end.

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