𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐀 - TMR, Gally ¹

𝟢𝟤𝟤，𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 = 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 ?

"You've stolen my equipment."

"No, I haven't," she snaps.

"Who else would have?"

A groan leaves her mouth. "I don't fucking know. Not me. When would I have? Yesterday you still had it and the second you told me about... you know, I stayed in my hut."

"Right," he says, but he doesn't sound fully convinced.

"I mean it," she adds. "Would you leave now? Thought this day couldn't get worse."

"So nice of you, woman," he grumbles under his breath, yet he obeys after all; he walks away.

Joan takes a deep breath. Why does everything have to come up at once, while she tried to bury her bad thoughts? Her period interfering, giving her all these feelings and wants, a memory about her mom, her past and the deaths, that desert, the way of being fine with these boys but also desperately wanting another girl here because no boy will ever truly understand everything... too much.

Another deep breath. Her hands shake as she cleans her clothes and sheets. She tries to keep the tears from falling, but it doesn't work, and they're soon dripping in the water. Her hands clasp around the basket, keeping her from letting out any sounds, yet some whimpers escape.

The girl quickly finishes cleaning and rushes to hang the wet things in daylight. Then, she gives up on trying to make this a good day. There's no one she works with anyways. The amount of supplies she has made is unreal, so one day off while it's not Sunday won't hurt.

Wiping tears off her cheeks, she closes the door behind her, changing into... into what? She gave her comfortable clothes to the Sloppers yesterday.

Alright. Fine. For once. Only for the comfort because Gally's sweater will be the most oversized thing she has ever worn. And he gave it to her himself, so it's not a crime to use it for other things than decorating.

She slips the pink material on, not daring to inhale the smell or anything. Just puts it on, along with her own pants. She notices she did leak through again—apparently the pills need time—but climbs in her bed after all. Not much she can do.

The exhaustion of the past month hits her the second she lies down. The constant nightmares, giving her just a few of sleep every night, catch up, and she's soon drifted off.

❀

"Joan." A loud knock on her door. "No freeloaders!"

She awakes with a groan. Honestly, she feels horrible. "One extra day off can't hurt, Alby. Please."

"Give me a good reason."

"I'm on my period."

"Aren't you every month?"

"Yes— well, no— it's a long story," she mumbles. "I'm just very tired."

"Joan, I wish I could, but if I allow you to do this, all boys are gonna take advantage of it. We've promised to treat you the same as we treat them. If you take this day off, they're all gonna want an extra day off and we can't really afford that."

"Right," she sighs. "Fine. I'll get to work."

"Good. Thank you. And sorry, really."

She feels like crying as she gets dressed, again having to wash her sheets and clothes. Hopefully, tucking a few pieces of toilet paper in her underwear will help. Then she walks over to the usual tree trunk and gets to work, ignoring every single cramp in her stomach and every tug at her skull.

"You alright?"

She nearly falls off the trunk at Gally's voice. But when she looks up, he's not there.