That Time of the Month

*Leif, Talia, and Rosaia are not mine.

Alistair liked to think he was a pretty good boyfriend… especially when it came to taking care of Isabel during that time of the month. It didn't take long for him to learn that she wasn't very pleasant during those times, but, after a few months, he had her figured out.

He didn't take her cutting remarks to heart, since she was prone to mood swings—most of them involving tears or anger. He'd come to understand that "Don't fucking touch me, you idiot," really meant, "Please don't touch me because my breasts hurt." He always had a supply of ice cream and other sweets at the ready for when she would get cravings. Any time she'd get a headache or cramps, he'd be there waiting with pain medicine and a warm compress. He even drew her hot baths and rubbed her back.

Alistair was prepared for everything… at least that's what he'd thought. He should have known things were too good to be true. Maybe then he wouldn't have ended up standing in the middle of the local store, staring at a vast array of… tampons.

It was the one thing he wasn't prepared for. Granted, it was arguably the most important thing involved with his girlfriend and her time of the month, but he'd never worried about it before. Isabel always had a supply stocked in her bathroom closet.

Except for now, of course.

After a brief meltdown that may or may not have involved having pillows thrown at him, Alistair had rushed over to the store to restock. He strolled past all the aisles, reading the signs above them to figure out where he was going. He finally located his target upon finding the aisle labeled "Feminine Hygiene."

He hesitated, but forced himself to go down the aisle, coming face to face with a variety of different products. God help him, he didn't know what he was supposed to get.

Who knew there were so many different options for a woman during that time of the month? There were even different brands of products. How was he supposed to know what brand Isabel used? Or… god help him… what size? Since when did they have different sizes, anyway?

Alistair could always call her and ask. He'd probably get yelled at, but it would be better than going back empty handed. She'd probably accuse him of neglecting her needs for not knowing what to get, which obviously wasn't the case. He wasn't a woman, it wasn't his fault that he didn't know the exact type of tampons she used. He didn't hover over her shoulder when she went to the bathroom to deal with… that. He just dealt with everything else.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention away from the many options of feminine products covering the shelves before him. Varric was casually walking down the aisle, raising a curious eyebrow at Alistair. The shorter man came to a stop right beside him, eyeing him up and down. Alistair nervously scratched the back of his head, feeling himself starting to blush. He glanced down to Varric, clearing his throat.

"Varric," he greeted.

The other professor smirked at him. "Coach Cheesy," he replied with a nod. Varric turned his attention to the array of products before him, stepping forward and grabbing a box of tampons. He nodded at Alistair once more before walking away, snickering under his breath.

Great. He wondered how many other professors would know about this come Monday morning.

Shortly after Varric left, someone else came down the aisle. He thought he recognized them as a student, but he couldn't be sure. The tattooed redhead grabbed their products and left, casting a curious glace over him. They had taken a different brand than Varric had grabbed. Well, would you look at that… apparently different people had different preferences. God help him if he screwed this up.

Alistair sighed, focusing back on the shelves before him. He really didn't want to call Isabel, having been emasculated enough for one day. However, he couldn't just stand in that aisle forever—then she'd kill him for taking so damn long.

"Hey, Coach!"

He almost jumped in surprise, sliding his phone back into his pocket as he turned towards the source of the voice addressing him. Talia Brosca was standing next to him, an amused expression on her face.

"Talia," he started, swallowing hard, that blush creeping onto his cheeks again. "You need…things… too?"

She laughed at him, holding up a few bags of chips and cookies. "I didn't come here for thingsI came here for snacks," she replied. She turned her attention to the shelves, her eyes glancing over them. "Isabel must really appreciate you coming here for her. I can't imagine she's feeling very well."

"You have no idea," he muttered, eliciting more laughter from the soccer star. His eyes widened as he realized what he said. "Oh, no, please don't tell her I said that."

Talia took pity on him and nodded. "I won't." She took a deep breath and smiled at him. "Tell Isabel that I hope she feels better… and that I'm glad the gym's supply closets will be safe for the next few days." With that, the curly-haired brunette left, leaving Alistair standing in the middle of that god-forsaken aisle with his cheeks as red as a tomato.

How did he get himself into such situations? Oh, right… Isabel. As much as she'd weaseled her way into his heart, she was going to be the death of him.

Thankfully, things started to look up.

Rosaia turned the corner and came down the aisle, her step faltering a bit when she saw him there.

"Alistair?" she asked, her brows furrowed.

"Rosaia!" he breathed, relieved. "Thank god you're here!"

Recognition lit her face. "Isabel's on her period, isn't she?" Before he even answered, she grabbed a box of tampons from the shelf, handing it to him. "These are the ones she uses, the spoiled brat." At Rosaia's remark, he glanced down to the price sticker on the box in his hands. Of course Isabel would use the most expensive ones there. In his relief, he couldn't have cared less that he was the one paying for them.

"Rosaia, you are a lifesaver," he said, looking back up from the precious cargo in his hands. She was grabbing her own box, holding it in her arms with something else. She saw him looking and she bristled, shifting her box of tampons so it was covering whatever else she had grabbed… which looked like a pregnancy test. Since when was Rosaia dating anyone? He'd ask Isabel about it later, because in that moment he needed to get back to her as quickly as possible. "Thank you!"

"No problem," she said, shifting on her feet uncomfortably. "Just go before she has your head."

He nodded and darted off, finally leaving the Feminine Hygiene aisle. If he were lucky, he'd never have to go there again.

Alistair forced himself to avoid taking a quick trip down the cheese aisle like he did every time he came there, instead paying for the tampons right away. The cashier looked at him funny, and for the billionth time that night, Alistair blushed in embarrassment. He was starting to wish he'd never have to go to that store again, forget about that aisle.

He drove back to Isabel's home, his girlfriend angrily storming up to him as soon as he set foot into her room.

"Dammit, Alistair!" she shouted. "What the hell took you so long? I've been waiting hereforever!" She snatched the box of tampons from his hands and started to stomp off again before stopping, letting out a deep sigh, and turning back to face him. "Thank you," she muttered, reaching up to press a kiss to his lips. He got lost in the moment and went to pull her closer, but she shrugged away, shooting him a warning glare. "Don't touch me, everything hurts."

Isabel stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Alistair huffed a laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, shaking his head and smiling to himself as he sat on the edge of her bed.

The things he did for that marvelous woman…