Your insides rebelled against you as if you'd done something to upset them, making you let out a pained groan and bury your face into the sofa. The TV sat across from you, playing... something. To be entirely honest, you were in too much pain to even watch it - which really sucks, considering you tried to put it on as a distraction from your monthly cycle.

Just as you felt the wave start to dissipate for a brief moment, you heard the jingling of keys outside and the 'chk-chk' of the deadbolt coming undone.

Jesus christ... Bigby was home already? Have you really just been laying on the couch, wallowing in agony for the past four hours? God. Some roommate you were, you felt.

When the door opened, Bigby silently sniffed around before calling out. "Hey. I'm home."

You weakly called back from the sofa, still curled up and clutching your stomach. The thumps of Bigby's shoes provide a rhythmic distraction until he walked up to the sofa, eyebrow raised.

"Jesus," he huffs, looking down at you. "...I'm afraid to ask, but you okay?"