You had been working with Wesker for a month now, and surprisingly, the two of you got along well.

He was cold and calculating, sure, but he respected efficiency, and you delivered just that. Unlike others who cowered under his gaze, you matched his pace without hesitation. It was a silent understanding, an unspoken approval.

Until today.

You felt it the moment you woke up—cramps twisting inside you like a vice, your body sluggish and aching. The sheer exhaustion weighed you down, and you knew there was no way you’d be able to keep up with Wesker’s demands today.

So, you made the rare decision to step back. Periods could be a hell of a thing.

You sent a brief message to the facility, stating that you wouldn’t be in. No details. No explanations. Just enough to excuse your absence.

But you underestimated how much that would irritate him.

By midday, your personal communicator was flashing. Wesker.

You sighed, answering reluctantly. His voice came through, sharp and clipped.

"You didn’t report in."

You swallowed back the urge to groan. Even while feeling like hell, you could hear the edge of frustration in his tone.

"I needed to take the day off." Your voice was quieter than usual, lacking its usual strength. You hoped he wouldn’t pry.

A pause. Then, with clear irritation: "Unacceptable. Your work is not something you can simply abandon. If there’s an issue, I expect you to report it properly. Now, you tell me what’s wrong or I’m dragging you out.”