Love & War | Brad Simpson ✔️

5. "Does your sister have to give me graphic descriptions of her period?"

Smug prick.

I simply ignore him and he continues to brush his teeth whilst I carry on unpacking my toiletries. I place my shampoo and conditioner next to the shower, before taking a box of Tampax out of my bag and place it on the side near the sink whilst I find the other box that's somewhere in my bag.

"You're not gonna leave those there, right?"

I stop searching and look up at him.

"Why? Are they bothering you?" I ask sarcastically.

"Not as much as you seem to be" he mutters but I'm glad I'm bothering him, "but really? Can you not move them somewhere else?" He asks. I pull my face at him. I was planning on putting them away in the cupboard but if he is so offended by them, I consider leaving them where they are.

"They're not radioactive" I tell him, rolling my eyes.

"I still don't wanna look at them every time I use the bathroom"

"Well, I don't want crippling stomach cramps and for my vagina to bleed uncontrollably for a week every month but it happens anyway" I inform, making him pull his face at the image I've conjured up in his head, "we can't always get what we want"

"Oh, you know what? Leave them there" he begins, "they might come in handy when you next get violent and try to knife me again"

"It was self-defence!" I argue.

"I live here!"

"I didn't know that!" I hiss.

"For God's sake, what's wrong now?" We hear a third voice groan. It's Tristan in the doorway and he looks exhausted by mine and Brad's bickering already.

"Does your sister have to give me graphic descriptions of her period?" Brad whines. Jesus, you'd think he was a pre-pubescent boy with the immaturity I've witnessed from him this morning. Imagine being so much of a pussy that you can't handle hearing about one.

"It was hardly graphic" I scoff, "try actually having one"

"Well, I can't really, can I? Considering I don't have a vagina" he snaps back sarcastically.

"Right, you just are one"

Tristan just sighs and turns around, stalking off to the kitchen again. I think he just can't be arsed dealing with this petty argument. It's all Brad's fault anyway.

They're only tampons.

"So are you, you know..." Brad begins, before gesturing at the box of Tampax.

"What?" I say, eyeing him carefully.

"On your period?"

I narrow my eyes at him.

"It would explain a lot of your behaviour" he continues, "the sarcasm, the scowling, the general moodiness, the violence... mainly the violence..."

I continue to stare at him with a hostile expression.

"I'm going to take that as a yes"