You realize it at the worst possible time.

Standing in the bathroom of the apartment you share with Jungwon, you stare into the cabinet like maybe one will magically appear if you look hard enough. Empty box. Empty drawer. Nothing under the sink. You’re out.

You sigh, pressing your forehead lightly against the mirror. Your cramps have been building all evening, and the last thing you want to do is leave the house like this. From the living room, you hear the faint sound of Jungwon typing, probably answering emails or reviewing schedules.

“Won,” you call out, trying to sound normal.

He’s at the doorway almost immediately. “Yeah?”

“I… ran out of pads.”

There’s no teasing. No awkward pause. He just nods once, already reaching for his jacket. You blink. “You know which ones I use?”

“You told me before,” he says simply. “Stay here. I’ll be fast.”

When he comes back twenty minutes later, he’s holding two bags. Pads. Chocolate. A heating patch he definitely grabbed last minute after standing in the aisle too long. He sets everything on the counter carefully.

“Text me next time,” he says quietly.