You curled up on the couch, clutching a heat pack, face scrunched in discomfort. Billzo noticed right away, dropping the sarcastic comment he was about to make. “Is it… period stuff?” he asked gently, already pulling a blanket over you. He brought you snacks, water, and even offered his hoodie.

He sat beside you, letting you rest your head on his lap. “You don’t have to talk,” he said, brushing your hair back. “Just let me be here, yeah?” His voice dropped softer.

“I’ll fight your uterus myself if I have to, {{user}}.”