My life

Ugh. Mother Nature

GENEVIEVE'S POV

I woke up suddenly, my body pulling me out of sleep before my mind could catch up. For a moment, I didn't know where I was. The room was dark and quiet, the air calm. Then I felt it the unmistakable heaviness, the warmth, the tight discomfort low in my stomach.

My heart dropped.

No. 
Not now. 
Not here.

Carefully, slowly, I shifted under the blankets and realized the truth. My period had started. Panic crept in immediately, sharp and irrational, even though it wasn't bad. Nothing had soaked through. Nothing was ruined. Still, fear wrapped around my chest like a vice. I wasn't home. I wasn't prepared. I didn't know what was allowed here.

What if he didn't have anything? 
What if I made a mess? 
What if I did something wrong?

I slipped out of bed as quietly as I could, every movement calculated. I didn't want to wake him. I didn't want to explain. I didn't even know how to put words to something that felt so embarrassing, so exposed. I padded into the bathroom and closed the door softly behind me, leaning against it for a second while my breathing steadied.

The bathroom light flicked on, and I started opening cabinets, my hands trembling. I expected nothing. Maybe soap. Maybe towels.

Instead, I froze.

There was... a lot. More than I'd ever seen in one place. Boxes. Different brands. Different options. My chest tightened in a strange way I didn't understand at first. For a man, he was incredibly prepared.

It made my throat burn.

I must have made more noise than I realized, because a soft knock sounded on the door. My entire body jumped.

"Genevieve?" he asked gently. "Are you okay?"

My mind went completely blank. Words tangled and refused to come out right. I tried to answer, but it came out broken, half-formed. Embarrassment flooded me, hot and suffocating. I waited for confusion. For awkwardness.

Instead, he told me exactly where to look.

Which cabinet. 
Which shelf. 
No hesitation.

Something about that made my eyes sting.

I got what I needed and handled everything quietly, efficiently. When I was done, I stood there longer than necessary, staring at my reflection. I looked small. Pale. Tired. But alive.

And then the urge hit.

It wasn't loud or dramatic. It was familiar. Comfortable in a twisted way. Like muscle memory. Like something my body reached for when emotions became too much, when I felt out of control.

You should hurt yourself.

The thought didn't scare me. That scared me.

I didn't want to feel this calm. I didn't trust it. Calm never lasted. Pain always followed, and part of me wanted to get there first. To control it. To make it mine.

Without fully deciding to, I started opening drawers. I told myself I was just looking. Just checking. I already knew what I would find. I remembered the hotel. The certainty settled in my stomach.

And there it was.

My fingers hovered. My heart pounded. For a split second, everything narrowed down to that choice old habits versus this strange, new safety I didn't know how to keep.

Another knock.

"Are you okay in there?"

Reality snapped back into place. Fear surged, sharp and grounding. I dropped the object back into the drawer like it burned and slammed it shut, my hands shaking violently. I answered quickly this time too quickly my voice higher than I meant it to be.

"I'm okay."

I washed my hands again, even though they were already clean, and opened the door. He was already back in bed, turned slightly toward the bathroom like he'd been listening the whole time.

I climbed back under the covers, my body still buzzing with leftover panic. I lay there stiffly for a moment, staring into the dark, waiting for the urge to return.

Instead, something else rose up.

Control.

Not the kind that hurt. The kind that chose.

I turned toward him and moved into his arms on my own, pressing myself against his chest. He didn't say anything. Didn't question it. His arms came around me naturally, steady and warm, like they had always been meant to.

My breathing slowed.

The noise in my head softened.

For the first time, I realized I didn't have to hurt myself to survive this moment.

I could choose rest instead.

Sleep came faster than it ever had before.