Separated: 5SOS BSM

75. You're On Your Period And He Takes Care Of You - Michael

Of course the problem ended up being that there was quite a mess left in your bed when you peeled the covers off of you. Your bedtime sweats were soaked through, leaving a stain on the sheets.

You were too out of it to notice, but Michael sure did. His expression softened right away. He felt the hot anger dissipate and his face relax as he saw you stumble up and around, clearly exhausted and not feeling well.

"Y/N," it was the third time he had said your name that morning. The first time he was excited to usher in a new day, the second he was angry, and now he felt bad.

You froze and rubbed your eyes, looking over at him. He nodded at your pants. At first you were rather confused, but then you looked down, and instead found yourself rather embarrassed. Your face bloomed a bright red and you could no longer meet his eye.

"Sorry, sorry, I'll clean it up, I promise," you bit down on your lip to stop yourself from crying out of exhaustion and embarrassment that someone had seen you in his much disarray. "I'll be fast so I can still make it to school on time," you sighed and looked up at him again, this time in silent apology. You needed him to leave you alone so that you could clean yourself and your room up. Especially if he wanted you to be anywhere anytime soon.

"You don't have to go anywhere Y/N," he shook his head, "go take a shower, I got this," he nodded at your bed.

"Oh no, no it's okay," you didn't want to make him clean up your mess. It wouldn't be fair to him, especially if he wasn't going to make you go to school.

"Y/N," he said more sternly, "that wasn't a question."

"Right, not a question," you had to repeat him so that you had more time to process what that meant. You weren't going to school, and you were going to take a shower.

He looked at you sympathetically, and walked over, "it's okay Y/N, it's not your fault." He rubbed your shoulder and then began to strip your bed.

When his attention was off of you, you sprang back into action. You shuffled through your drawers to grab some comfortable clothes for the day. This surely had to count as a sick day of some kind.

With a towel from the linen closet, you stepped into the bathroom and set your things down. You quickly turned and locked the door then leaned against the closed door to let out a breath. Your tired mind was having trouble processing everything that had, and was, happening.

Go take a shower

Michael's order rang through your ears and you snapped back. Wow, he was even bossing you around inside your own head now. At least in this instance he was being useful.

You stood up and turned the shower on. Then you stripped down while you waited for it to heat up. When the water was to your liking, you stepped in and showered yourself. The comforting feeling of a good, long, shower that wasn't rushed by any time constraints was really relaxing.

You cleaned yourself up and then just enjoyed the feeling of being properly clean and warm before you ultimately had to turn the water off. If you could live in the shower you could, but water was, "a finite resource."

This was the worst part. You gritted your teeth and lifted a leg to stick out past the steamy warm inside of the shower to the frigid rest of the bathroom. It was as terrible as you expected it to be, but as the cold air was already leeching into your nice warm area, you knew that it was just better to rip off the bandaid.