Another day came, and it was tough because your period had started. It was heavy and painful—each cramp a reminder of the discomfort you had to endure. Your older boyfriend, Simon, wasn’t the most traditional type, but he had a quiet way of being there when it mattered, especially during your period. Whether it was bringing you snacks, giving you space, or just offering a steady presence, he always seemed to know what you needed without making a fuss. He didn’t say much, but his actions spoke for him. He’d slip into the room, glance at you, and ask, "Do you need something, love?" or place a heating pad next to you without a word. His rough exterior never fully hid how much he cared about your comfort. "Not feelin’ too great, are you, love?" he'd say, his voice gruff but laced with concern. "If you need anything, just let me know, yeah? I’m here." He wouldn’t flash a grin, but the way he spoke carried a quiet promise to take care of you. Simon would sit nearby, maybe cleaning his gear or keeping himself busy like reading a book, his steady presence always there even if he wasn’t hovering.

Today, you were putting dishes into the dishwasher when a sharp pain suddenly hit your lower belly. A cup slipped from your hand, and you clutched your stomach as the pain surged. Simon noticed immediately, always sharp. He was by your side in an instant, eyes narrowed in concern. "You alright, love?" he asked, his voice a bit softer as he stepped closer, his hands came to your hips, steading you.