I hate periods.

A bout of pain hits me, wreaking havoc on my abdomen and my insides knot violently. I clutch the bedsheet, let out a muffled cry as I shift into a more comfortable position to ease the cramping. Paul's palm covers my lower back, I blink back tears as my head raises from the pillow to offer him a small smile which he has trouble reciprocating.

We maintain that position in silence with my forehead digging into the pillow and his hand glued to my back as if it will ease my suffering. Sweat stings my eyes, trails down my cheeks until I wipe my face dry, I place my hand on my stomach and fall to my side as the pain subsides. I manage a laugh at Paul's furrowed brows threatening to merge into one and he frowns. My lips curl into a small smile, my eyelids grow heavier and his fingers brush the side of my face.

Seconds slowly turn to minutes punctuated by my sighs, the throbbing pain reduces to a dull ache. My eyes fly open, I drag his hand to take a peek at his wristwatch and my eyebrows almost disappears into my hairline at the time staring back at me.

"You shouldn't be here," I state. His answer comes in the form of stroking my cheek, I close my eyes briefly and sigh, his touch is comforting. "Babe, go. You will be late."

"I'm not going," he replies with furrowed brows and the pad of his thumb brushing my lips. "I can't leave you here like this."

"I'll be fine," I start. Another bout of pain hits me, I wince and grit my teeth as I curl into a foetal position. When my eyes open, Paul is staring down at me with worry and I try to smile. "It only hurts on the first day, I'll try to be fine but please, go." He makes no move to leave, I add, "If I need anything, you will be the first person I call, promise."

His chest rises and falls, he places a kiss on my forehead but I stop him from leaving to repay the gesture. "I'll call you. Goodluck."

"I don't need it," he says with a smile as he gets off the bed, already heading for the wardrobe. I shake my head. "It's for losers."

Stifling the urge to roll my eyes or throw the pillows at his head, I say, "Pompous ass."

He smacks his behind and winks, I let out a small laugh. "Your favourite pompous ass." This time, I roll my eyes at his back before my gaze returns to the ceiling. The quietude is broken by the sound of rustling clothes, he brings out two shirts to place in front of him. "This," he raises the first, a blue shirt for a few seconds, then lowers it, "or this."

"Wear both of them. Wear the first on top of the second," I reply with a straight face and he scowls. I giggle and look away, he is not the only one allowed to fool around. "Okay," I stare at the two, "I prefer the second one."

"I'm ready to go," his voice filters to my subconscious, I blink and yawn, rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand. I weave my fingers into his beards, pull his face down for a brief kiss. He mimics my position on the bed, we lay on our sides with our heads propped on the pillows, he smiles at me and his hand stretches to touch my jaw. "Are you sure you will be okay?" I nod and cover his hand with mine. "If you need anything you will call me?" I nod again. "Do you need anything before I leave? Water? Food?"

"No," I reply, "just go. I will be fine, I'm a big girl." He chuckles, his lips part open and close as if he changed his mind on his reply. Moving to sit at the edge of the bed with a smile tugging on the corner of my lips, he thumps his feet on the ground. "Win for us o. Don't come back here without a trophy."

At my words, he straightens up to look at me, I close my eyes and stick out my tongue. "What if I don't win? Will I still be the best boyfriend in the world? Your favourite?"

"Who said you are my favourite or the best?" His index finger points to his chest, I roll my eyes and hiss. "Anyways... win or lose, you will always be the best boo and my favourite." I turn away to avoid seeing that arrogant grin plastered on his face, his ego is double the size of him. "Don't sha lose."

"I won't."

Our final goodbye has sadness settling on my shoulders, my heart constricts, minutes after he leaves, I stare at the door with longing. My phone pings with a WhatsApp notification from Paul, I giggle at the picture of himself smiling at the camera he sent me with a caption: Smile written under it. It works like magic, soon enough, my cheeks start hurting from smiling way too much.

Much to my dismay, the minutes between each message grows longer, I am quicker to reply his chats but his response takes double the time or more. I understand he might have gotten started so I don't think too much of it but when he sends the last text letting me know he has to put down his phone, I burst into tears. I swipe at the tears leaking to my cheeks, stupid hormones.

Determined not to spend all day sulking, I turn on the television, leave it at the station playing sad songs and cry myself to sleep.

I wake to the rapid series of knocks on the door, I blink, a little disoriented as I sit up. My head throbs at the constant pounding, I press my fingers to my temples and stare straight ahead like I can see through the door to the person trying to knock it down.

It finally occurs to me the person behind the door is awaiting a response from me, I grimace. "Who's it?" Shoving my phone into the pocket of my gown, I amble to stand in front of the door. Paul doesn't need to knock so it can't be him. My hand closes over the doorknob but I don't turn it. "Who's there?"

"Me."

A suppressed sigh escapes me, I stare at the door and roll my eyes. "Is me a name?"

"Aaron."

Fear trickles down my spine, I take a step away from the door. I exhale. "Who?"

"Erin, the bodyguard." My shoulders sag, I heave a sigh and open the door to confirm. He towers over me, maybe Paul too, a scowl etched on his face, unimpressed with my hesitation. I don't think he likes me, I don't like him too. I offer him a weak smile, he shoves a package into my hand and inches away from me. "Oga say make I give you."

Without another word, he spins on his heels and out of my face. I dump the package on the bed, my hand reaches into my pocket for my phone, ready to dial Paul's number until I check the series of messages he left me on WhatsApp during his break. My lips curve into a smile at his show of concern, the tips on how to reduce cramps he added at the end of the messages. Doctor Paul. His last text mentions a pain reliever I assume is in the box waiting for me to open it.

Another message comes in, I giggle and my fingers move rapidly across the screen to come up with a smarter, more cheesy reply. The emojis he adds to the one-line text telling me how much he misses me has me grinning at the phone like he's right here to see my smile. He doesn't wait for a reply before sending another message: Did you get it? I wince at the slight pain that grips me when I stretch to pick the box and joy blooms in my heart on seeing the content.

Heating pad. He got me a heating pad.

Happiness pulls me into an embrace, my lips curl into a wider smile and my heart starts a slow, unsteady dance as I strap the pad to my lower belly. He got me a heating pad. My fingers trace the corners of the carton, I fall to the bed with a content sigh and stare at the ceiling with a lazy smile, forgetting all about replying the sender to express my gratitude. The shrill ringtone of my phone pulls me out of my boyfriend admiration high, I glance at it and chuckle.

"Hello," I say into the phone and roll to my stomach with my legs crossed at the ankles. "Paul. Boo of life, best in the whole world."

He chuckles. "I'm guessing you got it. Does it work?" I giggle, of course, it does and it makes me wonder why I didn't get it sooner.

The throbbing in my abdomen disappears in a few seconds, I increase the heat to a level higher with the help of a button by the side and the tightening of my stomach muscles reduces. I purr into the phone, overwhelmed by the feeling of relief that floods me and Paul chuckles, he's the best.

"Thank you. How's it going?" My head bobs as he goes on to give me a summary, I listen without interruption. When he's done, I say, "I miss you." He sighs into the phone, I can tell he misses me too. "Kill that show o."

"I will murder it."

We speak for a few more minutes before he has to go and with a heavy heart, I end the call. A sigh escapes me, I need to get busy, resume work or I will lose my mind staying indoors and alone. With him around, it's easier to forget, time goes by so quickly.

My stomach rumbles, I purse my lips and sigh. I haven't eaten anything today, I don't feel hungry either but I know I have to eat or Paul will chew my ears off with his long lecture that will end on a note about the doctor saying this or saying that. I giggle. Baby boy doesn't want to know how bad of a lack of appetite I am experiencing, I must have something in my belly, however small.

Besides, I don't have to cook which is the best part, he already prepared a meal and all I have to do is heat it. With that in mind, I saunter to the kitchen, heating pad still attached to my belly as my fingers hit the button of the microwave to heat the Tupperware of fries and pepper sauce he left inside. For me, spicy foods are my go-to during periods, it might not help to relieve the pain entirely but they taste so good and also make my life easier in that moment.

On my way to the parlour, I pass Erin who offers me a curt nod, his second, Jo, does a better job at being discreet. We live in the same house but I barely see him. Settling on the couch, I turn on the television, switch to a music station because I cannot process anything right now and munch on the fries until there's nothing left in my plate. I belch, my eyes widen and I scan the room. I realise I am alone, I giggle and belch again.

Taking off the heating pad, I curl in the sofa, my eyes set on the half-naked video vixens shaking their ass in tune to the music.

I rouse to a kiss on my forehead. My eyelids flutter open, I rub my eyes with the back of my hand, my thoughts muddled as I try to figure out what happened. The television is off, casting the room into semi-darkness but I recognise the figure crouched in front of me. My boyfriend is home. I sniff, my arms wound around his neck and he chuckles, returning the hug as best as he can with half of my body hanging from the chair.

He takes a seat on the couch, I crawl into his laps and he rubs circles on my lower back while my fingers toy with his beards. I sigh when he pecks my lips, my fingers weave into his scalp, I pull his head down to claim his lips. We separate to catch our breaths, I bury my face in his chest and sigh.

"How was it? How was your day?" I ask. My voice sounds muffled, I tug on his beards when I don't hear an answer from him.

Running his hands through his face, he lets out a sigh and his head falls to the side. "Too stressful." I nod. "How was your day?" He smiles. "Did anything interesting happen?"

I pout. "No. It was boring. I missed you."

My lips part open to protest when he makes to stand, I frown and he reminds me he has to freshen up. I rise to my feet, refusing his offer to carry me, he must be tired. The plates I used to eat are gone, same with the bottle of water I dumped on the floor, I pucker my lips, ashamed to ask if it was his handwork as we walk hand in hand to the room where I leave him to set up his bath.

There are no scented candles in the house so I fill the bathtub with warm water, scatter the rest of the rose petals into it. I sit on the edge of the tub, laughing at the sight of the scanty petals which are a total of ten, almost tempted to take them out. Turning off a few of the lights to create a dim atmosphere, I rush out and rush back in with the small Bluetooth speaker I place on the sink.

Paul steps into the bathroom in his boxers and a towel hanging around his neck, I grow shy and look away. He takes a few steps forward, stopping in front of the tub and I purse my lips while avoiding his gaze.

I suck in a sharp breath and hide my face in my palms when he pulls off his boxers without notice, he chuckles and squats in front of me. He palms my face, his tongue seeks entrance which I gladly grant him and I moan into the slow, sensual kiss as my lips melt against his. His lips move down to my neck, I throw my head back and sigh when he peppers kisses behind my ear.

"Your water will go cold," I manage to say when he pulls me up. "Stop kissing me."

Our foreheads touch, he chuckles. There's a twitch between my legs and I try not to stare too long at his lips. His hand relocates to the nape of my neck, I moan, my eyelids flutter when his finger trails my lower lip which I sink my teeth into. My fingers splay on his chest, I knead his nipples and a moan escapes him. I groan, he moans, I want him too. My lips still tingle from our kiss, I take a step back to create some distance between us and hopefully, calm my raging hormones trying to take over. I want, no, I need him.

Unable to stand his gawking, I splash water on him and his frown causes me to giggle. After much ado, he steps into the bathtub and the sigh that leaves him as his head rests on the edge has my lips curling into a satisfied smile. I look down, he makes kissy faces at me and I flick a finger on his forehead which earns me a scowl. Sticking my tongue out, I shrug and press play on the playlist of slow songs I created for this moment, letting the melody surround us.

"Until today," Paul starts, "I didn't realise how long it takes to film an episode of any show." He moans and his hand comes to rub mine massaging his shoulders. "I know it takes a while but I didn't know it was this long," he groans, "and we have to repeat it tomorrow." I give his arm a small squeeze. "Why can't they allow us to cook in peace?"

The news about the filming comes as a bit of surprise to me. Since the hosts have a huge following on Instagram, it is expected they will upload teasers on their account to satisfy their users before the main release. I sink my teeth into my lips and let myself wonder if Paul would have been up for it if he knew earlier that cameras might be involved. I sigh. He has a strong dislike for anything that puts him in the spotlight.

"It will be over after tomorrow," I remind him. "You won't have to deal with it again."

His head hangs low as my fingers move to the top of his spine. "I know but it's unfair. We stay in front of the camera for hours and the viewers only get to see a few minutes, they should watch everything." I laugh and make a mental note to stalk the host's page, I can't wait to tease him. His head tilts so he can have a better view of my face, he flashes me a grin as his fingers caress my jaw. "How do you feel now?"

"Much better, all thanks to you," I reply. His smile grows, he nods and I rub my hands on my knees as he starts lathering himself. "How did you know what to get?"

"The thing I sent?" I reply in the affirmative. "I know Chi has something she uses so I asked." He grips the edge of the tub, curves his upper body to stare at me. "But how does it work? Is it that you just put it on your stomach and the pain will disappear?" My head bobs, his lips part open and closes, he nods and his brows furrow. "Nice." He beats the surface of the water. "Why don't you want to join me? There's space for two."

A chuckle slips from me, I shake my head, it will be a bloody mess. My fingers run through his scalp. "I am still on my period."

"Oh," he grimaces, "it is still on now." I nod. "So the blood keeps coming and coming..." he trails off when I flick a finger behind his ear. "Babe," he groans, I massage the spot, "sorry. I don't know how it works. Explain."

I peck the top of his head and my hands lower to his shoulders. "My flow is heaviest on the first day, it might not be the same for some women. It doesn't just turn off like a tap," I say with a laugh, "the flow reduces with each day, by the third day, I am done."

Genuine curiosity laces his voice when he asks, "Do you always feel it coming out?"

Laughter spills from my lips, I wheeze and hit the edge of the tub. "Why didn't you ask your sister, eh?" He shrugs, I giggle. "How long have you been waiting to ask that?"

"Long enough," he pouts, "so, answer me."

I burst into another round of raucous laughs, my hand grips my sides and I snort. The sincerity in his words makes it hard for me to feel awkward about our conversation and his seriousness makes it hard to dismiss the topic. He drains the tub once he steps out, I hand him his towel, making sure to keep my eyes on his face, his cute frown.

"There are certain things I'll do and I'll feel it, things like sneezing or coughing but most times, I don't. I won't even remember I am on my period until I have to change pads, use the toilet and stuff like that." I turn off the music and frown. "Cramps might also remind me." We both laugh and he nods, I take it to mean he understands but it doesn't stop me from asking, "Any other question?"

He shakes his head. "Won't you bath?"

"I will," I say, "once you leave here."

Our odd conversation might have been fun but I don't want him to see me changing out of a bloody pad. I shudder at the thought, I will rather do it alone. He stares at me for a few minutes, trying to convince me into letting him stay while I bath but I shake my head. We are finished with this matter for today. I stick my tongue out and shoo him out of the bathroom which he grudgingly leaves after stealing a few kisses from me.

My bathing doesn't take as long as Paul's, I change into a fresh pad and the nightwear hanging from the towel rack and skip to the room. Paul pats the space beside him as if I will be sleeping anywhere else that's not his arms, I roll my eyes and let out a long hiss as I bridge the distance between us to plop into the bed to stay in my rightful place.

"I knew you would say that," he replies when I protest about him switching off the lights and I grin sheepishly. For some strange reasons, I can't sleep with them off anymore and he has been kind enough to understand that. "So I bought this," he lifts a sleep mask and sticks out his tongue, "for me." I pout, he reaches under his pillow and retrieves another one. "Me, myself and I."

"Hey," I slap his arm, "what of my own?"

He shrugs. "You are the one who wants to sleep with the lights on." I frown and my lower lip tremble. "Okay, okay," he hands me the second one, "this one is for you."