Summary: What if Max and the Flock had never gotten "the talk"? What is the outcome of an adolescence without an adult and knowledge of societal norms?
Chapter Twenty-One: I Can Help You.
I saw Iggy come towards the kitchen counter, where I was flipping pancakes for the kids. They were eating them faster than I could make the batter, but I sure as heck was trying to fry faster.. no time for impressive flippy tricks though, sadly. It was an industrial order.
The waffles were bust, by the way. Iggy just gave up on them, and started on pancakes when all of sudden the Gasman had come running down, completely frantic. I took over the pancake-making as Iggy followed him upstairs; Angel and Nudge eventually wandered up too.
The kids had come down a while ago, but I just now saw him approach me out the corner of my eyes, confusion and seriousness etched on his face, his brows furrowed. He was thinking about something hard, mulling things over in his head. Immediately, he opened the fridge and got some lemons out, beginning to grate off the peel expertly with just a knife, and finally cutting it in half. I watched him out of the corner of my eye while I continued to flip pancakes. He squeezed some of the lemon into a small bowl, adding a tiny bit of the lemon peel in too with his long, lithe, pale, fingers.
He reached over my hand to pour some lukewarm water into the bowl from the sink and mix it around with salt quickly and efficiently, like it was second nature. And it was, I commended, considering it looked from his face, that he was far, far away, in some distant land, fighting some horrendous monster. Everything he was doing, he was doing absentmindedly, but articulately and perfectly at that. Curiously, I raised an eyebrow at him. What was up with Max upstairs?
Iggy asked me to move a little bit, and he bent down to get a dishcloth off the handle of cabinet below me. He took it and rinsed it before dipping it into the warm lemon-water mixture and rubbing it testily against the side of his wrist.
"Iggy," I snapped suddenly, getting his attention. He looked like he just suddenly woke up from deep thought, "What're you doing?" I asked him strangely.
He turned to face me, his face looking conflicted and confused, his delicate eyebrows furrowed seriously, the shadow and bristles of hair all over his face indicative of his laziness. I frowned at the look on his face. Iggy didn't usually have looks like that plastered on his face—he was the carefree, easy-going guy, and that face didn't suit him. All of a sudden he just suddenly, actually looked his age.
Or, our age, I corrected. Cause normal 13-year-olds shouldn't look like that either. But Iggy.. right now, Iggy looked tense, and stressed. Sort of half goddamned, afraid.
"Iggy, what happened?" I asked him, lowering my voice so that only he could hear. The kids were over the counter, chatting idly around the breakfast table. However, it wasn't as merry or as loud as it should've been, I noted as I realized Max hadn't come down yet.
Iggy looked at me urgently as if measuring me out. He wasn't sure if he could tell me, and I knew it. Things had still been weird between him and I, but apparently he decided that it was the opportune time to overlook that. He waited two seconds before he hunched over a bit to reduce the 2 inch height difference, and huddled in to make sure none of the kids could hear.
"Yo, Max is upstairs, and she's like, bleeding," he whispered to me, his face stricken.
"What?" I demanded of him, sort of not believing him.
"Her stomach is hurting her a lot, and I dunno, shes like curled up on the floor and its a mess—everywhere," he stressed, his face getting more and more urgent. The bowl of lemon and salt water was in his hands and they were trembling.
"What? Where is she bleeding? How'd she get herself hurt?" I asked quietly, trying to hide the desperation from my voice as I wondered if my eyes were looking as scared as his were right now.
"Its coming from her crotch, and I dunno, its not like, real blood though," he whispered back, "I mean, it is real blood, its just not, like normal blood. Its weird and thicker and it just keeps coming out of her," he continued.
My eyes widened a fraction of an inch as I realized what was happening. I immediately moved to make my way upstairs to her and explain.
"No, Fang," he grabbed my upper right arm in a death-like vice grip, succeeding in completely pissing me off, as I turned my head and silently snarled at him, trying to tug my arm away to no avail, as I waited for him to freaking explain.
"Dude, I'm blind. You don't know if she wants you up there—I don't think its real pretty, " he warned me.
The kids' heads turned around as our voices elevated. Irritated at that, I shouted at Angel in my mind to make sure they weren't listening in. It worked, although I regretted it.
There was something else laced within that sentence. He still hadn't forgiven me for being a bitch and distant. He still hadn't forgiven me. I growled back a response, my eyes tightening in a ridiculous glare that was oh-so beautifully wasted on him. He was trying to protect Max from me.. now tell me that wouldn't piss you off?
"Look, I know you still don't trust me for what I did before, but I need to help Max," I tried to convince him, nearly goddamned pleading. If I hadn't fucked up with Brigid, I wouldn't even know what to do. He might be pissed off of at me for being cold and distant for the past month, but if that hadn't happened, this would've been so much worse.
"Iggy, I'm the only one who can help Max. She doesn't know whats going on, let me go," I whispered out dangerously. Sighing helplessly, he let go.
"Fine man. But don't screw up," he whispered out a warning before he let go of my arm, "shes in the boy's bathroom."
When I had reached the bottom of the staircase, I finally opened my mouth.
"Thanks.. and I'm sorry man, I really am. I'm really sorry," I said quietly, meters away from the sink. I knew he would heard me.
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"Max, open the door," I was woken up from my dazed stupor by the sound of Fang's deep voice, barely muffled by the thin wood of the locked bathroom door. I was startled by his presence behind it.
"Where's Iggy?" I questioned, unmoving from where I was sitting behind the door, quietly listening to his voice.
"He's downstairs with the kids making breakfast," he replied calmly through the door, "I told him to stay down there," he continued.
"Max, open the door," he repeated.
It was the first time in while that he had pointedly, specially, spoken to me. Me, and only me, for no irrelevant reason. And for some dumb strange reason, all of a sudden, I felt tears threatening to spill over.. In anger, in sadness, in fury, in self-pity, in helplessness... in hate. I put my head to my knees and ignored him.
"MAX, LISTEN TO ME," Fang was shouting now.
He was angry, and that definitely was never a frequent occurrence. He would get irritated, yes, but never to the extent of raising his voice. I sniffed.
I was a mess; I was sitting here in a pool of my own blood, and I had crust all over my nether regions, and I felt like throwing up my own bile that had nothing in it. The cramps had gone away.. but I felt awful. Nothing felt right, and everything felt wrong and I still subtly ached all over.
This sucks, I realized. There was silence through the door. I knew he was still there. Suddenly he started talking, softly, earnestly. Something I thought I wouldn't hear for a long time.. something I had been waiting for, for nearly over a month.
"Max.. you have to listen to me.. Max, I'm so, so, sorry for the way I've been acting for a while now, I'm so sorry, trust me, but you really need help now, and I know you're probably really scared right now, but I can help you, please Max, its hurting me to imagine what you look like in there," his voice came out in a slow, unsteady stream, like whispers ontop of a creak in the middle of nowhere.
Every word he said, it felt like it was taking him ages to get out of his throat, like its been building up there for a while now, and his voice was cracking like no tomorrow—something I'd never heard it do before.
"Please Max, I can help you, I know I've been acting like a jerk, but please, please, forgive me so that I can help you," the door made a small noise that meant that he was probably leaning on it.
"Max, you're scared, and its okay, its okay to be scared, but let me help you, Max, open this door," he was pleading now, "Max, I know whats happening to you, just please, please open this door so that I can be there for you."
I listened to the sound of his voice through the door, my knees still shut tight and my hands trembling again. I wanted to open the door.. I wanted to open it so badly, and forgive him and talk to him, and be best friends again, and go back to the way it used to be, but I couldn't.. I didn't..
"Max, please," he said after a while. I shook my head sadly, tears spilling over.
In a second, my head had jerked up suddenly in surprise; Fang had broken the bolt on the door with a hard tremorous shove.
He walked in and I saw his eyes flicker over the medium-sized bathroom, noticing the small spots of dried dark-brown blood on the edge of the tub I had been sitting on before. His eyes scanned over the light pool of blood sitting directly to the side of it, his eyes searching frantically and quickly, scanning the seemingly empty room for me. His pupils flashed as soon as he closed the door behind him to see my form sitting there on the floor behind it, all crumpled up.
His eyes fell once he saw me. Slowly, he came over and knelt down in front of me, like Iggy had.
Except, he kept his distance. I looked away.. I felt so embarrassed, I felt so embarrassed, and I was angry that he'd knocked open the door.
"Max, Max, I'm so, so sorry," he whispered out in a deep, low voice. My elbows tightened around my knees. His voice was deep, and it sounded like he was aching inside, but I didn't care.
"Get out Fang," I said quietly, looking away from him.
"No Max, I'm sorry, but you also need help.." he said desperately, but his face was just as emotionless as ever.
"Fang, get out," I repeated a bit more loudly, I was getting angry now.
"No, Max," he said solidly, sighing, and looking away as well.
"GET OUT THE HELL OUT FANG," I screamed, loud.
I don't think anyone in this flock had ever heard me scream. I don't think I've ever even heard myself scream, cause the high-pitched shriek that had escaped my throat was a new, frightening sound to my ears, and a shocking one at that as well. My eyes closed as my head leaned forward and the words came out of my throat, before I could assess that the scream would probably reach downstairs and echo throughout the halls and through the walls of this old, dry house.
Fang sighed and didn't say a word, looking away, his hand running through his hair compulsively. He didn't move an inch and was still sitting up there in front of me, his knees still in front of him. I heard some stampeding feet carry someone up the stairs and two seconds later the door was pushed open loudly and clamorously and unceremoniously.
"What's going on here?" Iggy said sternly and loudly. His beautiful, sightless, glazed over milky eyes zoned in on Fang immediately and the look he was sending him was murderous. He was speaking a thousand words in his glare, but Fang didn't bother to look up to match it—he could feel it.
Fang didn't look at me. With a tired sigh, he got up, his knees flexing and stood up to turn to Iggy and face him.
"Thanks," he said, taking a small glass bowl from him with something in it.
"You can go now," he dismissed Iggy quite simply.
Iggy seemed prepared to put up a fight, but then he calmed down, his shoulders releasing hard tension. Something extraneous passed between them, but it was lost on me. In any case, Iggy left compliantly, rolling his eyes and looking like he'd have very much liked to take his leave begrudgingly.
Fang turned back to face me, the little bowl still in his hand. He stood there for a second, staring at me for a few minutes before he finally knelt down to me. He played with the thing in the bowl, swishing it around a little bit before taking it out and wringing it harshly within his tight knuckles. It was a soggy dishcloth.
He put one of his hands on my knees gently. I don't think I'd ever actually been touched by him.. like that. Fang and I.. we never hugged eachother. It was one of those weird things that had just.. never happened when we were younger, and so never happened once we got older.
Fang could hold Nudge, he could hold Angel, he could even hug Iggy.. but he's never actually embraced me. Before that night on the bed, when I had gotten into his room through the window.. when I had first helped him—that was the first time I had touched him in such moderate ways as well. It felt like its been a while since the last time I'd had to bandage an arm of his. It felt like it didn't matter back then either—it wouldn't've been a big deal back then, to be in such close proximity. But it was now. Its amazing how things change, I thought absentmindedly. It mattered now.
His hands were light, cautious, wary, strong.. calloused. They were desensitized from training, fighting, lifting.. he was the strongest one out of all us in this flock. I hated to admit it, but it was true. He was a lot stronger than any one of the rest of us. His hands were rough, but he had so much control over them.. they were light, but sure and dominant, unlike Ig's observant and whispy touch, rather strong, sure, and precise. He placed them on my knees and slid them forcefully down the slit I had created with my clutched outer-thighs.
He spread my knees, and I felt a lukewarm trickling pass down the insides of my thighs and the curves of my buttocks. It felt soothing and it felt nice. Turning my head slowly and nearly fearfully, I finally faced him, only to see his bent neck. Fang had his head between my knees, beneath my spread thighs, working and focusing on cleaning me up precisely. He slid the warm dishcloth over and under pressing down softly and rubbing away the dark brown, dried crust around me. He went up and over towards the front and then slid it back down from the front, gently rubbing the crust off of the hair. He didn't go down, down towards the place all the blood was coming from, but cleaned the areas around it, going back and dipping the cloth back into the small dish.
I sat there, letting him clean me, feeling his hands idly run over a place once in a while, feeling the cool wet cloth rub against me, hearing his breathing near me, in the same room where it was him and I. His neck was bent, focusing hard on doing it well, and I could see the hard muscles that connected his neck to his shoulder-blades showing through the side of his stretched, old, worn, cracked t-shirt. It had used to be black, one could tell, but after hundreds of washings, it had just become an unillustrious faded reminder of it.
I shuddered, my eyes closing, as the warm water on me began to slowly and gradually turn cold as a light breeze passed through the empty slips of the bottom of the door.
"Fang, I..I.." I didn't know what I wanted to say. I was cold? I dunno, I wasn't really. That my thighs felt clammy beyond all good reason? That that wasn't really helping my current situation at all? I didn't want to be here? Well, that was an obvious one, but where else could I go? I was bleeding, and the bathroom was the safest bet because it didn't have any carpeting. That also tended to cause the coldness situation. I gave up on whatever I had wanted to request, realizing that nothing would work for me either way. I was uncomfortable and cold, sitting on the cool wet tiles of the boys' bathroom floor on my bare buttocks, my bloodied jeans sitting to the side of me, and now cold water dripping down the insides of my thighs. There was nothing more I could really ask for. I was feeling altogether horrible, although marginally less icky now that Fang had cleaned me.
"I.. what's wrong with me?" I asked him, ending the question like that. I had decided that I couldn't ask for anything actually reasonable, and I was Maximum Ride—I didn't complain. All there was left was to ask for something absolute, rather than obsolete and potentially dissatisfying. Never have expectations.
Fang finally looked up to me, and his eyes looked beautiful. He.. he was finally, actually, there, now. He was here. And maybe it was only because I was here too. He was finally actually looking at me—something he hadn't done for almost two months now.
The dishcloth was wrung well and left hanging over the edge of the bowl. He had pushed the bowl away to the side. He looked up at me, and for the first time in a long time, I finally felt him be there besides me.
"Max, you got your period," he answered, looking off the side for a bit distractedly. He looked like he was shuffling some thoughts around the front of his mind at the moment. That made me angry. Here I was, asking him an actual question that he had been banging on the door, claiming that he knew the answer to, and he had just bothered to answer absentmindedly, inattentive, and thinking about something else. On top of it all, he had answered with something completely unfathomable—ridiculous that I didn't even know the meaning to.
I wanted to smack him.
He turned his head back from the hamper that he had been facing to meet my eyes again. He saw the danger flash there for a second and realized his mistake. Man, I was pretty easy to piss off, I realized. He was Fang though, so he still ignored it. Any one else would have been scrambling off their seat to rectify any mistake that was made... but he was Fang.
Completely ignoring the look I was giving him, he glanced back at the hamper, getting up from the floor space sitting in front of me and walking over to it. He rummaged around for less than a second and pulled a pair of baggy pajama pants out. I watched him close the hamper and place it on top of the cover. He looked down to the jeans he was wearing and my eyes widened marginally as he moved to begin to unbutton them in front of me.
"Fang, what are you doing?" I asked quickly, my face scrunching up in shock.
Sure I had seen his penis several times before, I had touched it, I had helped him, but here he was undressing in front of me. What was he doing?
Quickly, he slid his jeans off, kicking them off to side and grabbed the baggy sleepwear sitting on top of the hamper. He grabbed it and pulled it down to the floor to slide his legs into, as he pulled off the previous pair of socks he was wearing. He slid the pants up quickly and knotted them before coming back over to me. He wasn't so distracted anymore now that he was done, and his eyes looked directly at me, with purpose, as he walked forward.
But coming back, instead of sitting down in front of me, he sat down next to me, leaning against the same wall that was behind the bathroom door. I turned my head to look at him, only to feel his hands swiftly grab my hips and lug me sluggishly to the side to lift me up over his thigh.
"There you go," he said quietly, almost to himself.
"What? Fang, I'm going to ruin your pajamas, and also—whats happening/?" I asked again, irritation laced within my voice. He was doing things without explaining why, and it wasn't helping what felt like an oncoming headache.
"It doesn't matter... and you're menstruating," he replied eloquently and simply, before he began to chastise me. I grimaced as I sat, turned to the side on his upper right thigh.
"And Max, you've been sitting on the floor for god knows how long, clutching your knees together like no tomorrow," he complained, his left eyebrow twitching strangely as if concluding me entirely incredulous, "and sure, you didn't stain the tiles beneath where you were sitting, but you got a mess all over yourself." His eyebrow continued twitching.
I blushed.. the way he was saying it so bluntly.. it made me feel useless and pathetic. And dumb. Ugh, I was angry now. Who the heck was he to be so condescending like that to me?! I was Maximum Ride—and he definitely needed a reminder. Who knew a talkative, condescending Fang was agitating?
Ugh, too bad that this wasn't exactly the most opportune moment to remind him.. I felt completely useless, sitting on right thigh, bleeding onto the pants leg of his right leg.
"And sitting like that won't help your cramps at all," he reprimanded, raising an eyebrow skeptically as he referenced the way I had been sitting before: squeezing my knees and my thighs tight together. "Sit on me now, comfortably," he ordered me.
"Fang, what's happening to me?" I asked quietly, for the third time, after soaking in everything he had just said. It was a lot, especially coming from him, but he sounded like he knew what he was talking about, and he sounded like he was bent on helping. I brought my head up and turned it to look at him. His piercing eyes met mine and he sighed, looking away and up.
"You're.. you're menstruating.." he repeated offhandedly. He was obviously thinking about which way to explain it. After a while he continued.
"So.. basically.. the blood, is from your uterus," he continued, looking up at the ceiling as if trying to picture something, "Your uterine lining is shedding, so all the blood is coming out through your.. um, vagina," he finished awkwardly.
His hand snaked around my back to gently hold the side of my hip and balance me on his thigh and make sure I properly stayed on.
"What.. why?" I asked, astounded. "Whats making it shed?" I demanded.
Maybe I had ate the wrong thing or something.. but I couldn't recall eating anything weird, and I couldn't recall getting hurt in the gut for a while. In fact, its been a while since I've actually fought.. I needed to train more these days, I added in an afterthought. After Jeb had left, I'd been way too busy doing chores and such to work on skill or actually train for strength. We'd gotten sort of lazy, I realized with a surprise. Its as if the epiphany hit me suddenly, and I absentmindedly wondered why I hadn't seen it before.
"No, well, its cause you don't have a baby in your tummy," he said, looking down at my stomach and gently bringing his other hand around to place it over it curiously, as if imagining a baby growing in there. He hadn't touched me like this.. in so long—ever, I corrected myself. He had never touched me like this. And it was making me feel weird.. but good. It was soothing, and relaxing.. and it made my stomach feel a lot better.
It was the way he'd hold Angel, or Nudge, or Gazzy.. it was how that he'd speak to them too; he'd never held me like this before, and he never spoke to me like that, and he'd never had the audacity to touch me like this, and I couldn't blame him. I would never have thought about letting him, before. Somehow, all that seemed to be something I was looking at the past in now.
As if just realizing what had just come out of his mouth and what he had just done, he jerked his hand back off like lightening had suddenly struck it. His eyes flashed as he seemed to correct himself, "When woman aren't impregnated, their uterine lining sheds every month or so.. Women menstruate." I blinked once, twice, trying to suck in this info, but it felt like the pieces didn't fit together quite exactly, for some reason.
He could sense the indifference—a feign for a lack of understanding, and tried to elaborate.
"There are like.. two phases, I think. Luteal and.. Folliclar?" he was questioning himself as he sort of rambled. I guess thats what he did when he was embarrassed. Fang would ramble. Interesting.
"Anyway, so basically, its happening all the time. And.. and its completely normal. Its nothing weird, and it happens every month, to everyone."
"Everyone?" I asked, surprised, trying to figure out how this would work with Fang, or if it already happened with him. Maybe thats how he knows so much.
"No.. not everyone, just girls," he corrected himself, slowly.
"Thats.. thats not fair," I commentated softly, frowning, "This hurts."
"Yeah, I know, but it'll go away, its only for a week," he reassured me soothingly.
"A WEEK?!" I screeched in surprise. I would've nearly jumped off of his legs, if he hadn't secured his elbow onto my lap.
"Shh, Max, Iggy is already pissed at me, so don't make any more noise.." he said, giving me a tired glance, "and besides, the kids are gonna hear." Well, he was right about that.
"Besides, this is completely normal anyway." That surprised me. "Every month, your follicle, or fallopian tube, or something, releases an egg, and then your body prepares itself for a baby, but when you aren't impregnated, then it falls down. It has something to do with FSH, some hormone, estrogen producing thing in the pituitary glands."
He was spitting out a bunch of mumbo jumbo that I didn't get, but one word caught my ear.
"Wait, wait up, we lay eggs?!" I exclaimed. I didn't want to use the term I, cause it was already pissing me off that it was only me that had to deal with this.. every month.. for an entire week.. so instead I decided to refer to us.. as avian-human hybrids.
"No, no, they just call it that," he said, grimacing at the thought, "this whole thing is entirely human."
I nodded slowly, deep in thought. I felt embarrassed that I was soaking his pants with my inner bodily-fluids, but he didn't seem to mind, keeping me there and not letting me move.
"So.. this is.. normal.. right?" I asked slowly, trying to gather my bearings.
"Yeah.. its completely normal.. its.. puberty," Fang replied carefully. He sounded guarded in what he was saying and it was making me wonder what he was hiding, or swerving around.
"It.. doesn't happen if you have a baby in you?" I asked him.
"Yeah." he responded slowly after a long moment, minusculey nodding his head once, and turning to look straight ahead of him, at the end of the shower stall. I was guessing he was going back to regular mono and bi-syllable Fang now.
"So, if I got pregnant, this wouldn't happen anymore?" I asked him slowly, turning my head to look at him. His eyes tightened suddenly, staring at the stall, and he moved his jaw a fraction of an inch as his pupils crossed over to look at me.
"No," he affirmed solidly, but there was something strange, dangerous, unsettled, and unspoken sitting in his eyes when he said that. I stared at him carefully, measuring his gaze before I asked my next question.
"Why doesn't it happen to Nudge or Angel?" Afterall, they were females too. Fang looked away again, turning his head to the side. His jaw loosened and his face released some tension as he answered.
"Its.. well.. its a part of puberty, for girls. And puberty doesn't happen, until you're older." Then he went back into his mumbo jumbo.
"Your pituitary gland tells you to make more estrogen or testosterone when you're older. Estrogen is for girls, and testosterone is for boys, when you're a teenager."
"Wait, then whats puberty for boys?" He turned his head back to look at me. His emotionless, expressionless gaze was threatening for a second, but it slowly receded as he succumbed to the resolution and reasoning that had been shuffling around in his head for a while now—I could tell that he'd been thinking hard, about this conversation, since he'd first walked into the door.
"When.. when my penis hardens, thats for sex," he said levelly, his eyes never leaving mine.
Sex.
Sex.
So thats what all that was about. Sex.
"To like have babies?" I asked him incredulously, my eyebrows shooting up high on my forehead, making sure I knew what the definition of 'sex' was. I was absentmindedly aware of how dumb and childlike I sounded, but I ignored the feeling of remorse as I demanded an answer from him. You know what they say, curiosity killed the cat, but I was a bird-kid.
"Yes," he said simply. I waited for him to elaborate, but he obviously had no intention to do so willingly.
"So.. so what is it for?" I asked carefully.
"Its.. its for semen ejaculation," he replied apathetically.
I stared him down, willing him to elaborate, as I refused to ask another tedious question in order to comply with his stubborn attitude. He watched my impatient eyes on him, and sighed before he looked away and answered.
"The semen goes into the vagina, sometimes it joins with an egg, and then a baby starts to grow," he continued, nearly sounding bored. I wasn't bored at all, though. This was definitely news to me.
"Thats it?" I asked dumbly.
"Yeah.." he said, looking off to the side darkly. There was something he wasn't telling me, but I didn't know what it was.
"Oh." I paused for a moment, thinking about it.
"So, it'll happen to Iggy too?"
"Yeah." he replied apathetically. I felt some wetness beneath me as I stained the thighs of Fang's pants.
"Fang?"
"Hm."
"I don't think I can stand this anymore."
"It's okay."
"Really, Fang."
"Its okay."
"No, its not. I feel like complete crap. I feel like crying, and I hate this."
"Its okay.."
Finally, groaning a bit, he maneuvered me in his arms and half lifted my knees. He arched and strained his neck out the door to make sure none of the kids had come up, before he brought his body outside to join it, while supporting me out into the hallway, and half bending down to keep the crook of his elbow behind and against below my buttocks.
Walking out, I felt embarrassed as I noticed that half of the length of one of his legs was stained with my blood.
We went into the closest bedroom, which was Iggy's and Gazzy's, and he lay me down on the closest bed to the door to walk the least amount of distance, sitting me down on his lap to keep me from bloodying anything else.
"Fang, we can't do this, this long" I groaned out tiredly. How the heck were we supposed to stay like this for AN entire week?! And much less every month? Those pains would come every month? This was torture, I hated this.
"I know," he said. He was being Fang again. Irritating, soft-spoken to the bare minimum, just completely, downright, agitating. I was pissed. He was reassuring, but I wanted to punch him. It didn't help that I was incredibly embarrassed right now, with the whole situation.
"Then?!" I asked him angrily, nearly shouting at him. He rolled his eyes at my frustration before replying.
"I'll go into town, and I'll get you some of the things you need. Sanitary napkins, or whatever."
"Oh," I replied.
It was quiet. I felt Fang absentmindedly run his hands over my waist. It was quiet.
A/N:
The ENTIRE second part of this arc revolves around this issue, so nope, sorry if you're disappointed, but this is NOT the end of the period stuff. Alot more to come.. you'd be surprised with all the stuff you can do with this issue...
I think you'll be surprised.. or happy.. or something.. cause theres alotta fax coming up, in like.. unreasonable ways ;)
Please read and review, because reviews make this author happy =)
I started another story.. I think. Its called Something Gone Wrong and its.. a little bit... different. I'm sure you've realized that by now that, I write sort of.. different. I've realized that I'm attracted to writing slightly messed up, sick, things..
Please check it out and tell me what you think so far, and then maybe I'll continue it.
I was sitting in the basement of my friend's apt in the middle of the night (middle of the morning?) typing away on his dumb laptop (he got the new Dell..) while they were all... squirming around me. I really don't get people who go sorta crazy and fidgety and insane when they get high. All it does it lessen your inhibitions--it doesn't make you have to act like a fucking retard.. So yeah, I was just sort of annoyed and bored with them, so then I just sat down ignoring their freaking self-induced drugged stupors and started typing.. So, I'm not giving it much credit considering the circumstances under which I wrote it.. You may doubt my sanity after you read the first chapter that I put up, but I'm doubting it too, which is why I'm not sure if I should continue it.
The difference in Something Gone Wrong is that its actual romance. Let Me Help You.. is just some convoluted form of romance under the guise of Fax, but if I made Something Gone Wrong into an actual story, it'll actually be.. romance. This story, on the other hand.. is sorta kinda entirely based around a concept and a "what if" circumstance, which means it sort of dilutes and detracts; it's loosely based around the concept of puberty and adolescence primarily. So yeah. I still don't know if I'm going to make that into a story. I don't know if I can actually do romance writings, since I've never tried. Check it out!!
You can see it if you go to my profile. And while you're there, you can also take a poll ! I put up a question about what you guys want to see in Let Me Help You cause the other day a reviewer commented about something.. Check out the new story, take the poll, read and review!
Review your opinions! =) meeeeeeeeeeeee.