it hit like a freight train, as it always did. the kind of cramps that made you feel like your body was staging a rebellion from the inside out. you’d tried curling into a ball, pacing, even drinking the tea you hated, but nothing had worked.

when lando came home, he found you in bed, half-buried under the covers, staring blankly at the wall like it owed you an apology.

“hey,” he said, peeking his head into the room, his voice soft like he was trying not to spook you. “rough day?”

you groaned, pressing a pillow over your face. “kill me.”

“tempting,” he teased, but his smile softened when he saw how miserable you were. “alright, what’s the situation?”

you mumbled something incoherent, and he didn’t need any more details. “got it. stay here.”

not that you had any plans to move.

a few minutes later, he was back with his arms full—a heating pad, your favorite snacks, a glass of water, and painkillers. he set everything down with practiced ease, like he’d been through this drill a hundred times.

“okay, step one,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing you the painkillers. “take these.”

you popped them into your mouth without protest, washing them down with the water he offered.

“step two,” he said, tugging the covers back slightly, “the magical heating pad of relief.” he slid it under the blanket and placed it gently on your stomach.

you sighed, some of the tension in your body easing as the heat seeped in. “thanks.”

“step three,” he grinned, settling in beside you, “distract the hell out of you.”

“you don’t have to—”

“shush. i’m commited now.”

he spent the next hour flipping through TV shows until you found something you could tolerate, making you laugh with his ridiculous commentary. at one point, he even got up to fetch you ice cream, claiming it was “a scientific fact that chocolate heals all pain.”

when the cramps started to fade just a little, you let your head rest against his shoulder. “you’re too good to me,” you mumbled.

he kissed the top of your head. “nah, i just love you.”