Pad and painkillers

Chapter 31

Drogen wanted to check on her. After a long, bloody night filled with cruelty, he needed something calm to soften his mind.

Fresh from a shower, he'd washed away the blood and dirt. Wrapped in a bathrobe, his damp hair hung in unruly strands as he approached Natasha's room. Pushing the door open quietly, he saw her curled up on the bed, her face buried under the blanket.

Something was off. The usual fire in her presence was missing.

He moved closer, his bare feet making no sound against the floor. Gently, he tugged the blanket away from her face. His heart, if he could still claim to have one, skipped a beat. Her forehead was beaded with sweat, her cheeks unnaturally flushed.

"Natasha?" he said, his deep voice wavering slightly. "What's wrong? You're burning up."

She groaned, clutching her stomach. "I'm... fine. It's just my period. The pain sometimes comes with a fever."

"You need to go to the hospital," he said abruptly, already turning toward the door.

"Drogen, wait," she croaked, her hand weakly grabbing his wrist. "This happens every month. I don't need a hospital. Just get me some painkillers... and, uh... sanitary pads."

"Sanitary pads?" he echoed, genuinely clueless. His confusion might have been amusing if she weren't in so much pain.

"Painkillers from the pharmacy. Pads from a convenience store," she explained, her voice strained.

Drogen hesitated for a moment, then nodded with determination. "Got it. Stay here."

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It took him longer than it should have to locate the nearest convenience store. The neon lights of the pharmacy and store felt strange—too bright, too cheerful for a place that housed so many remedies for pain.

He stood in the aisle, scanning the shelves with a furrowed brow. Rows upon rows of colorful boxes with words like "ultra-thin," "overnight," and "wings." Wings? Why would they need wings? Was this a human thing?

"Excuse me," he finally muttered to a store clerk, a middle-aged woman who looked up at him with curiosity. "I need... pads."

"Sure," she said, smiling politely. "What kind? For heavy flow, light flow—"

"Heavy," he interrupted quickly, thinking of Natasha's flushed face and the way she winced as she held her stomach. "The heaviest you have."

She nodded and handed him a pack. "Anything else?"

"Painkillers," he replied gruffly. "For... period pain."

The woman raised an eyebrow but didn't ask questions. She handed him a small box. "This should help. Anything else?"

"No, that's all" he replied awkwardly

"You should get her chocolates, women tend to like sweet things during their period" the woman proposed with a polite smile

"Ok, add it"

The clerk's smile widened. "A boyfriend doing his best, huh?"

Drogen stared at her, unsure of what to say. He just nodded, paid, and left.

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Back at the room, Natasha was still curled up in the same spot. Her hair clung to her sweaty forehead, and her breaths were shallow.

"I got what you asked for," he said, pulling out the items. "And this." He held up a bar of chocolate.

Her eyes fluttered open, a faint smile tugging at her lips despite the pain. "Chocolate. You're full of surprises, Grim Reaper."

"I'm not a reaper right now," he said, almost offended. "I'm... helping."

She chuckled weakly, and he found himself oddly pleased by the sound.

Drogen handed her the painkillers and a glass of water, then sat awkwardly as she took them. He hesitated before asking, "Do you need help with... the other thing?"

Natasha's eyes widened, and she let out a startled laugh despite her discomfort. "Absolutely not. I can handle that."

"Good," he said quickly, relieved. "Because I wasn't sure how to—"

"Drogen, stop," she interrupted, still laughing weakly. "Just... sit."

He obeyed, pulling a chair close to the bed. For a moment, they sat in silence, the tension easing slightly.

"Thank you," she murmured, her eyes fluttering shut again.

"You don't need to thank me," he said gruffly. "its nothing really "

There was a brief silence, he sat awkwardly, not knowing what to do or say.

"Last night...you..." She tried to say but he quickly interrupted .

"You dozed off in the bathtub...I only tried to help, I promise, I didn't do anything improper" he quickly defended like he hadn't actually pleasured himself to the thoughts of her last night. His cock tightened as the memories flashed.

"Relax," she chuckled, her voice soft but genuine. "I just wanted to say thank you."

Drogen blinked, visibly caught off guard by her words. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his usual stoic demeanor. "It's nothing," he muttered, his eyes briefly darting away.

She smiled faintly, warmth spreading in her chest. He was the first man to take care of her like this, and it made her heart flutter in a way she couldn't quite understand.

"I'll go prepare breakfast," he said, standing up abruptly. "You can freshen up and then eat. You can manage, right?"

"Yes... thanks," she replied softly, watching him disappear out the door.

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Natasha stepped out of the bathroom feeling significantly better. The painkillers had kicked in, and her fever was gone. Dressed in a simple T-shirt and joggers, she made her way to the kitchen. The aroma of food greeted her before she saw Drogen, who was just finishing plating the dishes.

"You're looking better than before," he said, glancing at her as she entered. His voice, though deep, carried an unfamiliar gentleness. "The pain has reduced, right?"

"Yes," she replied with a small smile, sliding into the chair. "The painkillers are doing their job."

Almost immediately after they sat to eat, there was a knock on the door. Who could that be this early morning. He stood up to open the door and he froze at who he saw. It was fucking Angel Lucas. What was he doing here.