"Think you can take me?" I arched an eyebrow.
"Are you doubting me?" She answered.
//
Natalie Perkins, born in London. The FBI is after her for the assassination of fourteen men. All of them brutally murdered one day of the week, all of them left wi...
I know that I'm not that important to you But to me, girl, you're so much more than gorgeous So much more than perfect Right now I know that I'm not really worth it If you give me time, I could work on it Give me some time while I work on it
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Taking care of a woman in her period was a complete first to me.
Of course my wife got her period too, but hers wasn't as bad as Natalie's. She bought her things on her own and she wasn't moody, she tried to never bother me with it even thought I wanted to help. Honestly, I had to do some research on menstruation because I didn't know shit.
I found out it was normal, the whole mood swings and stuff, and that periods were different in each woman, which explained a lot of things. It was so different, because Natalie was trying her best not to move and I remembered my wife being as active as she could be.
I felt kinda bad for Natalie. She looked like she was going through a lot of pain, and I couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like. It had only been two hours and she had already tried to fight me twice, plus she had eaten at least half of the chocolates I brought and she had bawled her eyes out for thirty minutes.
To be honest, it was fun seeing her like this. I wasn't trying to be mean, but her mentality turned into a cute grumpy child's one and she was either pissed off or crying. I sounded like a complete asshole, but it was the truth.
I didn't want Natalie to snap at me again, so I tried my best to be patient and agree with her on everything. I wasn't looking for a fight, therefore I was trying to be the best I could be to her. I had to admit though, the deathly glares and angry comments were getting under my skin.
The fact she was just on her underwear wasn't helping much. I knew she was just seeking for comfort through the pain she was suffering, but it was so fucking distracting and I felt like a disrespectful jerk for staring too much. She had been wearing a black lace underwear and a tank top with no bra, and it all left little to imagination.
Her decision was to lie down on the couch and stay there, taking advantage of the fact she had a TV and me at her disposal. I felt like a butler, but there was not much that I could do. She kept asking for things to eat and water, and I brought them all because I couldn't leave her hanging.
What I did know for a fact was that tonight's plan was already screwed. Nat could barely move without having a cramp, so that meant she wasn't in condition to fight and she would die if she got attacked during the event.
She mentioned tight clothes were the death of her during her period, that was why she wasn't wearing anything, and I couldn't see any scenery where she managed to get inside her dress, let alone walk in stilettos during a whole-ass hour.
I had tried to talk her out of this; maybe we could skip this event and hold on for the next one, but she refused adamantly. She was being very see-through about her emotions now, and she mentioned how she was tired of this life even if it had been only four days.
