𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗥

𝗑𝗏𝗂𝗂𝗂.

Jiwon felt a wave of nausea wash over her even before she lay down on the bed. The discomfort had lingered since the wedding evening, transforming into a disconcertingly familiar sensation. As she reluctantly opened her eyes to the dull grey light of a quarter to seven, a groan of pain escaped her lips. As she pushed the blanket away from her lower body, her heart sank— the entire bedspread was stained a vivid crimson and smudged across her legs as well. Her eye twitched involuntarily, and she fought the urge to scream in frustration.

Casting a cautious glance at Joshua, who was blissfully asleep on the couch, Jiwon swiftly made her way to the bathroom, her strides quick and determined. She loathed these seven days each month when her stomach twisted as if it were being torn apart from within.

Searching through the cupboard under the sink, she found the sanitary pads and hurriedly washed herself. After slipping into a comfortable pair of shorts, Jiwon hurried back to the bedroom, careful to tread softly so as not to disturb Joshua. During her menstrual cycle, she often became unpredictable, even to herself.

With a sigh of relief, she discovered that the mattress remained untouched. She gathered the soiled bedspread, the blanket, and her damp clothes, stuffing them all into the washing machine and setting it to the highest mode. As she clutched her belly, she returned to the bedroom and rummaged through the closet for a fresh bedspread. It was a struggle, but she managed to arrange it over the bed and pulled a new blanket over her tired body. Another sigh escaped her lips, a mix of pain and resignation; this queasiness and discomfort would linger until the last day of her cycle.

Jiwon had been prescribed special medication by her doctor, but in her haste, she had forgotten to bring it with her. She hadn't anticipated her period arriving so early, but irregular cycles were just one of the many frustrations of being a woman. Clutching her belly tighter, she curled her knees to her chest. Normally, Jayoung would come over during these difficult days, providing comfort and support, but Jayoung was currently sleeping soundly with Eric.

The drapes were drawn tightly over the glass wall, allowing only the muted grey of the sky to filter into the room. The silence was almost suffocating, punctuated only by the steady rhythm of Joshua's breathing. Jiwon pulled out her phone, the screen illuminating the time—three minutes to seven in the morning. She began to swipe through emails and messages to distract herself.

Among the notifications, she spotted a few messages from Minghao, who had become a reliable source of support. "Chamomile tea, Jiwon, chamomile tea. That's what will help you sleep soundly," read his last message. A small smile curled on her lips at his thoughtful words.

Minghao had a way of providing her with comfort that often felt more effective than any professional advice. Determined to follow his suggestion, Jiwon slipped her feet into fluffy slippers and quietly made her way out of the bedroom, gently shutting the door behind her.

Since Jeonghan was staying with them for a few days, Jiwon and Joshua had agreed to a temporary truce: one would sleep on the couch while the other occupied the bed. As she descended the stairs, she noticed the apartment bathed in a gloomy yet oddly comforting grey light. Rushing into the kitchen, she was surprised to find the lights already switched on. Who could be awake at this hour after such a long and tiring day?

Stepping cautiously into the kitchen, she found Jeonghan standing there, dressed casually in a white shirt and grey sweatpants. His hair was tousled, and he had his back to her. As if sensing her presence, he turned around, relief washing over his face when he saw her.

"Jiwon, what are you doing here?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes. Jiwon approached him, her voice barely above a whisper, "I should be the one asking you that." Jeonghan turned back to the task at hand, dipping a teabag into a mug of steaming water.