Tristian looks horrified. “When the hell did you do that?”
“Before Thanksgiving holiday,” I explain, pulling my blanket up to my chin. “It was a simple procedure. I was in and out before lunch ended.”
He reaches up to tug at his hair, eyes tight. “What brand is it? Did you research it? Because hormonal changes can be—I mean, shit. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have gone with you, helped you read up on the side-effects, told you what to choose.”
The smile I give him is sharp and sarcastic. “Gee, Tris, I was going to, but you know… I figured you’ve put enough implants in me.”
His mouth pulls up into a cool grin. “I’m going to let the attitude slide on account of your womanly troubles.”
“And on account of me being right.”
He ignores this, sighing as he looks me over. “So what are we going to do with you?”
“I’m fine,” I insist, my wince belying the words. “I just need a few hours for the cramps to go away. Maybe I can meet you at school a little later, or—”
Turning on his heel, he says, “I’ll be back,” and sweeps out of the room. A moment later, Dimitri appears in my doorway, taking a bite out of a bagel.
“What’s he doing?” His dark eyes take me in, jaw pausing mid-chew. “What are you doing?”
“I’m not feeling great,” I explain, shivering. It’s getting deeper into winter, which is evidently when the brownstone shows its age. Drafty windows and a subpar boiler have pushed me to add more blankets to my bed. “Is it okay if I have the morning off?”
His mouth forms a line. I know I don’t technically have to ask him for permission because we worked that out in the new contract. And even if I did, Dimitri’s never been the type to control my comings and goings. But I’ve come to realize I’ve developed some habits while living here. Survival instincts, I’m sure.
“I dunno.” He rests his hand on the doorjamb, taking another bite of the bagel. “What’s wrong?”
“Girl stuff.”
The look of confusion doesn’t go away, jaw working as he chews.
“Female stuff.” I wave my hand around my uterus. “You know…”
Comprehension dawns on his face. “Oh, shit. That.” He stares at me for a long, pensive moment, like he’s trying to work out what that looks like, and god, part of me really wants to know what he’s thinking, but the other part doesn’t. Dimitri has a taste for blood, and I have no idea how deep that runs. He swallows, straightening. “Do you, uh,” and then cringes, “need anything?”
Did he just offer to assist me with my period? This is all just too weird.
I blink. “No. I think I’ve got it under control.”
“I got a guy who’ll sell me Percs for dead cheap,” he offers. “Or I can go get Ms. Crane.” He leans back to peer down the hallway. “Although, I doubt she’d make you feel better.”
I laugh, and then wince as another cramp attacks. “Please do not bring her up here. She’d probably just tell me I’m a wimp, and that real fucktoys don’t get their periods.”
He raises an eyebrow, but before he can respond, Tristian appears behind him, giving his shoulder a shove. “I’ve got this, Rath. Get the fuck out of the way. You’re making things worse.”
“I’m just standing here.”
“In the way.” After pushing his way past Dimitri, Tristian enters the room with a large serving tray. From this vantage, I can see there’s a mug, a teapot, an assortment of snacks, a bottle of pain reliever, and a large glass of water. It isn’t until he carefully places it on my nightstand that I see the heating pad tucked beneath his arm.
“From my reading,” he begins, bending to plug the pad into the outlet, “although you’re probably craving something salty, you should stay away from sodium because of the bloating.” Without any fanfare, he tugs my blanket down and starts tucking the warming pad against my stomach. “But I also know that cravings are your body telling you what you need, and since our bodies are temples—”
Dimitri snorts. “Ancient and crumbling?”
Tristian pointedly ignores him. “—I have a few snacks here to take off the edge. Sweet, savory. Crunchy, chewy. Got you covered.”
“Er…thank you?” I look behind him, past Dimitri, noticing Killian has stepped into the doorway. Great.
“What’s going on?” he asks.