Once I’d heard the front door open and close, I exhaled and shut my eyes, but that only made me focus on the cramps more, so I opened them again to try and concentrate on the TV. When I felt my phone vibrating in the big front pocket of my onesie a while later, I pulled it out and saw a text from Greid.
I chuckled when I opened it and saw the picture he’d sent: shelves and shelves of period products. Then he sent, This is confusing.
Smiling, I texted back, Just grab any! Pads, though. Not tampons.
Ten seconds later, a video call came through. I grinned when I answered and Greid’s narrow, dark face filled the screen, an earbud in one ear.
“You’re gonna have to show me. There’s too many options.” He flipped to the back camera, and I heard his knees crack as he crouched down. “Okay, so you want the ones with wings, right? A lot of the ones called pads seem to have wings.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, please.”
“They have organic ones here.” He zoomed in on a box. “Is that important?”
Laughing, I said, “I don’t know, but I don’t need organic ones.”
“What about night-time ones? Do you need those?” Greid picked a box up. “How are they different?”
“Um, I think they’re just bigger. More absorbent.”
“So the manufacturers don’t claim that they have, like, special night-time period-fighting powers through absorbing moonlight or something?”
I snorted a laugh. “Wouldn’t that require people to go outside and present their underpants to the moon?”
“I dunno, maybe some people do. This may come as a shock to you, Beryl, but I’m not actually an expert on human periods.”
Through more laughter, I said, “Just get those ones there, in the blue box. Regular.”
“’Kay.” He picked two boxes up, then focused the camera on something else. “Oh wow, look, they have underwear with, like, built-in ones. That seems environmentally friendly. Do you want some of those?”
My belly was cramping up from chuckling. “Just the pads is fine, Greid.”
“And chips and iced tea, right?” He put them in his basket and flipped back to the front-facing camera.
I gazed at him, still grinning, as he walked down the aisle and glanced up, tracking something that passed him. If his nose hadn’t been so flat, I would’ve been able to see right up it.
“Beryl?” He looked down at the camera again as he walked through the store. “Chips and iced tea, yeah?”
“Oh.” I flushed. “Yeah, please. Are you getting anything?”
“Nah.” He grinned down at me slyly. “I don’t want to ruin my dinner.”
I snorted, rolling my eyes, then listened to him load some chips—multiple bags—into his basket. Then he made a face and grabbed something else. Then, as he walked down the aisle, several more things.
I laughed. “What are you getting?”
“Just snacks.” He picked up something else and looked down at the phone again. “What are we having for dinner? It’s your night to pick.”
“You’re thinking about dinner while you’re picking snacks?”
“Well, yeah. What we have for dinner dictates my snack choices.”
“Does it?” I said dryly. “Because you already seem to have grabbed a lot.”
He grunted. “Those are universal snacks. They go with everything. Is the hot water bottle helping?”
I smiled and pressed it tighter to my lower belly. “Yeah, it is. Thanks.”
“Good. I’m just grabbing your iced tea, then I’ll be on my way home.”
The camera shifted as he opened a refrigerator and reached in, angling down a little to show me the prominent bump in his throat. I stared at it. My tongue pressed against the back of my teeth as an entirely inappropriate image popped into my head—of me fisting Greid’s long hair and yanking his head back, exposing his throat so I could nibble on that bump and feel it bob against my teeth with his moans.
I went hot all over, blinking rapidly when I realised Greid had looked back down at the camera and was staring at me expectantly.
“What?” I said numbly. “Sorry, I didn’t…”
“I said I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
“Oh!” My laugh was strained. “Yep, see you soon. Bye!” I blurted it too loudly and hung up.
“Beryl,” Greid said, the moment I stepped back into the living room after going upstairs to change my pad. “What is this?”
He was staring down disdainfully into a big plastic bowl with a clear lid. I’d heard the doorbell go while I was coming back downstairs, and he’d already unpacked the containers of food.
I frowned, walking over to the couch. “What is it? Did they get our order wrong?”
When I reached him and saw what was in the bowl, I relaxed and chuckled. “Oh. No, that’s mine.”
“It’s salad.”
“Yeah.” I settled back under my blankets beside him on the couch.
“Is it a side for something?” He glanced over the other containers. “Like the garnish you don’t eat at restaurants?”
“A side?” I choked out, gesturing at the bowl. “Greid, it’s a huge chicken Caesar salad. That’s a main meal. Look at it!”
“It’s salad.” He held the bowl out to me, casting it one final look of mild disgust. “Enjoy.”
“Do demiurgus not really need to eat vegetables?” I asked with interest as I watched him peel the lid off his enormous portion of fettuccine alfredo.
He grunted. “We do. I should probably eat them more. According to my mom, anyway. But…” He gestured at his pasta as if that explained everything.
I laughed. “I get it.”
After years of living on a strictly controlled diet, I still wasn’t over the novelty of being able to eat whatever I wanted.
Settling back with my bowl, I watched Greid grab a fork and slump back on the couch, already twirling up his first big bite of pasta. His first enormous bite. Those smile lines cracked open, showing me every single one of his sharp back teeth as he opened his mouth wide and stuffed it in.
My lips twitched. “Good?”
“Mhmm.” He chewed, eyes fixed on the TV.
Deciding to leave him alone to enjoy his dinner, I started eating my salad. We were on a real Gloom Falls kick now. Even though Greid had seen it before—probably several times—he still paid rapt attention and reacted to all the ridiculous things that happened on the show. Gasping and nudging me when Ashi slapped Huna. Snorting in disbelief when Golir told his lifemate Pana that he was still at work when he was really next door in Ashi’s bed. Going “ooooooooh” in a foreboding tone when Loty discussed her lifemate Marish’s life insurance policy with Huna.
He was so ridiculously cute.
I’d already noticed that he ordered less food when it was my turn to get dinner, so when he’d passed my phone back after adding his pasta to the order, I’d tacked on some garlic bread for him. But it seemed like the fettuccine alfredo may have actually beaten him, because he didn’t even go for the garlic bread after setting down his empty container.
“You cannot be full yet,” I said. “Unless you secretly ate some snacks on your way home from the store earlier.”
He refused to look at me, appearing very engrossed in the TV. I burst out laughing, leaning to the side until my shoulder rested against his arm.
“Wait, is it because you didn’t smoke before dinner?” I asked. “Why didn’t you?”