Utianle

Cool air settled on my skin, causing me to shiver slightly. I pulled the thick blanket up to my chin, sighing in contentment when I rolled on my stomach. My head sank further into the pillow, enjoying the softness until my brain registered its unfamiliarity.

I bolted out of the bed, the sight of the overhead circular fluorescent lamps disorienting me further. My confusion heightened when I noticed the strange air conditioner on the wall and the curtains that had been replaced by window blinds.

This was not my room.

Those words must have activated my memory because the events of last night came rushing back to me.

Let me take care of you.

Instinctively, my gaze descended on the bed where a sleeping King lay in the same outfit from yesterday and I felt a small tug at my heartstrings. Shaking my head free of this strange feeling, I reached for my backpack, tiptoeing all the way to the bathroom.

After flipping the light switch on, my eyes grew the size of saucers when they landed on the unmistakable red stain -that was the size of a newborn fist- adorning the front of my nightgown. And I groaned inwardly, the stickiness in between my legs suddenly explained.

"Why?" I asked my reflection in the mirror; my period wasn't due until two days' time.

My fingers searched for the emergency sanitary pads I always carried about for moments like this and I wondered for the millionth time why the female species had to go through this torturous monthly ritual just for our bodies to prove we weren't pregnant.

Shrugging out of my nightwear, I placed all my belongings on the toilet seat, my heart thumping wildly as my search came up empty. Still in disbelief, I sieved through my stuff a second time, a noiseless scream escaping my lips when the severity of my situation finally sunk in.

"Uti, is everything okay?" King's voice was muffled but I could still hear it; his question was followed by a series of knocks and then silence.

Embarrassment clawed at my throat, stealing the words I should have said. I shook my head, forgetting that he couldn't see me, at the same time trying to summon the courage to voice out my needs.

The shuffling of feet behind the door grabbed my attention, then the knocks resumed; the next voice I heard wasn't King's. "Utianle, open the door."

Grabbing the towel nearest to me, I wrapped it around myself hastily, reaching for the lock on the wooden door. Mrs. Daniels poked her head in, eyeing me warily before pushing the door wider.

She locked the door behind her, watching me twiddle my fingers without saying a word. With a heavy sigh and like a teenager forced to apologize to her bullies, she asked, "what is the problem?"

"I need sanitary pad," I whispered.

When her eyes trailed to the gown I tossed carelessly on the ground, I shrunk internally, feeling like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. The disappointment was barely concealed in those orbs that were the same colour as her son's. Her fingers set to work typing on her phone and my shoulders sagged in relief when she didn't offer me a snide remark.

Someone knocked gently on the door and she unlocked it, collecting the pad from the hand that stretched inside. I caught a glimpse of the back of Helena's head as she shuffled out of the room with her signature crop top, noting King's absence in his massive bedroom.

Surprisingly, Mrs. Daniels's face bore no judgement when she handed it over to me and for a second, I was overcome with the urge to wrap my arms around her.

"Is that all or you also need me to show you how to use it?"

That urge was swiftly replaced by an annoyance that vanished when I noticed the corner of her lips twitch like she was struggling to hold back her laughter. Realising now that there was no malicious intent behind her words and that would be the only form of kindness I would ever receive from her, I shook my head, murmuring my gratitude to her retreating back.

Her vanilla scent lingered in the air even after her departure, unlike the first time, I was comforted by it. Jumping into the shower, I shivered at the chilling drops of water that attacked me, laughing out loud for no particular reason.

Sauntering out of the bathroom in a black gown, my steps faltered when I noticed fresh linens on the bed and a humming King replacing the pillowcase.

What was going on?

"Hey, you!" He greeted cheerfully when he noticed me.

Ignoring his deep morning voice which was as soothing as an ice pack on an aching ear, I gestured to the bed. "Why are there new sheets on the bed?"

"Good morning to you too." He took steps towards me, his intense stare set on my face as if inspecting for damage. I waited for him to ask about the delay in the bathroom and when he didn't, I muttered a wordless prayer of gratitude. "Sunday is for laundry."

Satisfied with his response, I nodded, eyeing the room for any chore to keep from being idle. The room was perfectly arranged, his bed was free of wrinkles; everything was in its place.

"What took you so long?" He asked hesitantly, his voice regaining the pitch I was familiar with.

That was when I felt it: the thousand and one needles prickling the lower part of my belly. Invisible hands squeezed my insides while another person sawed me open, pouring alcohol on the wound before setting that part of my body on fire.

Hell had finally taken residence in my stomach.

A spell of dizziness hit me and I staggered backwards, grateful for King's quick reflexes as he jumped to stand behind me. Lifting me up bridal style like I weighed nothing, he headed in the direction of the bed but the logical part of me managed to scream out a no, afraid that I might soil the white bedsheets for real this time.

In a calm voice, I asked to be taken to the navy coloured sofa that could at least hide any stains, wishing for the hours to run by so, I could get back home. He dropped me on the couch with the tenderness of a seasoned lover, a determined look on his face.

Crouching beside me, uncertainty swam in his eyes when he asked, "is it that time of the month?"

"How can I help?" He whispered when I nodded, his thumb grazing my knuckles.

The chilly ringtone of his phone interrupted my reply and a picture of his mother popped up on his screen. He ran a finger through his scalp, muttering words I couldn't decipher under his breath before dismissing the call.

"I don't think your mother likes to be ignored," I muttered.

"Hennessy can keep her company." The look of seriousness on his face had me chuckling and I shook my head. "Or is it Henletta?"

Despite my cramps, I found myself laughing alongside him, unable to deny the fact that the new names sounded better.

Another bout of pain hit me and I winced, squeezing King's hand tightly until the pain reduced to a tingle. His forehead creased slightly, decorated by lines that looked like a WiFi signal and his eyes darkened with worry, concern swimming in those golden flecked irises.

"I'll be right back," he said, his index finger slightly brushing the tip of my nose.

An unusual sense of loss overtook me as he walked out the door and I found myself pressing my knuckles to my cheek, smiling wistfully at the lingering scent of his woody fragrance.

The door opened soon after and King walked in with a tray, setting it on a stool he pulled beside the sofa.

"Mother says you have to eat so you can take this," he pointed to a bottle of ibuprofen on the tray, "two tablets of it."

With his help, I sat up, collecting the steaming mug of tea he offered me. I took a few sips from the cup then proceeded to swallow the pills. The disapproval in his eyes urged me to take a few bites from the buttered toast before I finally pushed the tray away; no amount of cajolery could restore my appetite.

When King set the tray far away from reach, sitting cross-legged on the tiled floor, just staring at me as if afraid to let me out of his sight, I felt that tug at my heartstring again. It was strange yet nice to have someone else do the pampering but when he moved to the couch, attempting to place my feet on his laps, my whole body went rigid.

"I was think-" He looked flustered and a hand ran through his face. Avoiding my eyes, he added, "I was thinking you might appreciate a foot massage until the drug works its magic."

"Yes. Yes please," I responded shyly, turning my face away from him. He snickered, drawing lines at the sole of my feet that made me giggle like a lady who received her first valentine gifts.

As the pressure behind his fingers increased, a series of unfamiliar emotions washed over me, none of which I cared to identify and I found myself wishing the weekend would last longer.

*****

Sorry for the wait, inugo? This chapter was so difficult to write and I have no idea why. I wasn't satisfied with my previous drafts, so I kept deleting, rewriting.

PS: I finished writing this at 4:05 am (didn't upload it cos I was too sleepy to proofread). 

I'm satisfied with how this chapter turned out and I hope you guys are too. Thank you for reading.