Will We Talk?

18- Help

It can't have been anymore than 5 minutes by the time he'd gotten to mine, bursting through my front door and calling my name.

"I'm in my room, Sam." I yelled, curled up in a ball in under my duvet.

The shuffle of footsteps became louder as he approached me, picking me up from the bed and smothering me in kisses.

"Put me down Sam, please." I squeaked through giggles.

"I'm." he kissed my lips, "So." he kissed my lips, "Sorry." he kissed my lips again.

As much as I loved the kisses, being close to him made me smell a faint scent of cigarette smoke. If he wanted to smoke, okay, but I didn't want him making my home smell like it.

"We're going to mine." he said tossing me onto his back and picking up my stray duffel bag.

My arms wrapped around his neck, lightly, surprised he could carry so much at once. He strutted through my home, putting me down to lock my door, immediately picking me up again.

"Sam. Have you been smoking?" I suddenly asked.

"No, I stopped when I was in hospital the last time." he grunted, his forehead becoming increasingly more sweaty.

"You reek of smoke though."

"Aye, because Joe smokes like a fucking chimney." he groaned.

"Alreet, you can put is down now." I chuckled.

"Never, I'm not letting you go tonight." he smiled, hoisting me upwards to adjust his frame.

I placed a kiss in his hair before playing with his little curls.

He moaned, "Evelyn, don't start somet."

Immediately, I bursted into laughter at the way he began to pull my feet to cover his manly area.

*****

"Sam, I'm not having sex with you when you're drunk, its not okay." I said, pulling him up from between my thighs.

"Please." he pouted, but I wasn't falling for it.

"Let me think... no." I teased, tucking my legs to my side.

"You're fit when you're mad." he sighed, standing up and joining me on his setee.

"I don't appreciate what you did to me today, Sam." I broke the silence, snuggling into his side.

He looked down at me, "Not my finest moment, but I'll try my hardest to make it up to you. That's a promise."

"Mhm." I grumbled, as I stared into those eyes that I loved so much, "You're invited to my family's halloween party, by the way. Mam's really excited to meet you."

"Class, when is it?"

"The Monday before halloween."

"I'll be there, can I dress up?"

"We should go matching." I beamed.

"Good idea." he winked.

*****

The worst thing that could possibly happen when you're sleeping at your boyfriend's house happened to me that following morning. I woke up, immediately attacked by the pain of my stomach, causing me to wince and curl up into a ball.

Cramps were the last of my worries at that point: I was so heavy that it had got all over Sam's bed sheets. He was sound asleep, so he couldn't see me struggling.

I knew my periods were irregular, but it was cruel to be starting at that moment. Various times I considered going on birth control, especially after meeting Sam, for obvious reasons. But I never got around to actually getting it.

How much time I had to spare and come up with a temporary way to solve the issue was unknown. Instead, I slipped out of bed, hunched over, and changed into a dark pair of pants, slipping a piece of loo roll that had been folded tons into my underwear. Then, I wrapped a hoodie around my waist, just to make sure any leaks were covered.

My plan seemed great: I'd clean the apartment and wash the bed later in the day. For now, I just placed a towel over the patch of blood I'd left on the bed.

After an hour of me cleaning, I went into the bedroom to see Sam sat with his head resting on the headboard, phone in hand. As I opened the door, he looked up at me with a smile, opening his arms for me to cuddle into. Happily, I crawled into them, cautious of my bottom half.

"What you getting up to?" he asked.

"Been tidying." I shrugged.

"You've been tidying wor hoos? Willingly?"

"Aye, what's so wrong with that?" I snapped.

Great, the mood swings had started.

"Nowt, I can do it mysel' y'kna." he stated.

"What's so wrong with me doing it though? I'm the woman here, correct?"

I never knew a woman could be so misogynistic, but here I was, using it as an excuse to cover the blood both literally and metaphorically.

"Yes." he muttered, looking at me concerned, "You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" I hissed.

"Y'kna what, I'll leave you be and sit in the living room."

Thank the heavens.

He got up from his bed, never taking his eyes off of me, hovering at his door before turning around and closing it with a slight slam. I let out a breath of air, continuing with my cleaning mission.

I stripped Sam's bed of its bedding, trying my hardest to ignore the pain I was feeling. It wasn't because I thought Sam would get suspicious as to why I was taking pain killers, I always liked to see how far into the day I could get without taking anything for the pain. It was normal, wasn't it?

The relief I felt could never be topped when I saw that his bedsheets were perfectly clean, no stains.

By 3:30, I had cleaned Sam's whole flat, without speaking a word to him. I joined him on his sofa, trying to snuggle into him, but he had none of it. He didn't even blink at me, keeping his focus on the TV. Worried, I kissed him on the cheek and went to kiss him on the lips, but he stopped me with his hand being forced on my chest.

"What the fuck is up with you today? At first, you were rude and now you're all over me. You can't expect to kiss and make up, Evelyn." he yelled.

I did nothing but cry; it was true. All day, I made it my mission to ignore him and cater to my own needs. Once again, I'd shown how selfish I could be. My frame shook with tears, Sam instinctively wrapping me up in his arms.

"Talk to me, pet. What's up?" he asked, voice calmer than before.

"It's embarrassing." I wept.

"I'm sure its not, c'mon, I'm your boyfriend for crying out loud." be begged.

"I can't tell you, Sam." I said, standing up but collapsing from the pain I felt.

Sam caught me in his arms, laying me down, lifting my legs, "You're not okay, please talk to me." he whispered, tucking hair behind my ears.

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"Of course I won't."

"I'm on. And I leaked through your bedsheets, so I decided to wash them discretely." I admitted, hands covering my soaked eyes.

Sam stood there in silence, mouth slightly open as his face went slightly red. He then ran away, "Be right back." he shouted.

His front door shut.

Great. He had left me, hadn't he?

All I could do was cry and cry and cry some more, fighting the pain of my stomach and lower back.

*****

"I'm back." came Sam's voice, following the sound of the door closing.

In he walked, bag in hand with supplies in it. He had a way of making me fall for him everyday.

"I didn't know what to get, but the woman said all of this would do the trick." he explained, shoving the bag in my face.