Chapter Text
Micheal Robinavitch
The rain outside of Robby's brownstone taps agasint the windows softly while the city beyond the windows turns blurry with a mix of golds, and grays.
You sit in the middle of the couch, your legs crossed like you're back in elementary school. The hoodie you're currently wearing is an old Pitt hospital hoodie one that belongs to Micheal. You stare blankly into the tv looking at the pause button that keeps flashing across the screen at you.
While the heating pad that is resting agasint your lower belly continues to make the underneath of your own blanket a personal sauna. The period cramps had started early in the morning, Micheal called out of work right away.
By noon you won't dare say it out loud but you're more then happy that he stayed home today. The exhaustion has hit you like a freight train, and by evening you feel like your emotions have been cut into exposing parts of you that you didn't want exposed.
Add on the PMDD which just makes you feel like someone had ripped you apart from the inside and turned everything raw.
Micheal knows the cycle by now. After two full years of being with you and a year of finally understanding. He's got it down to a 't' most of the time. He comes out from the kitchen with two mugs one in each hand of an herbal tea you keep for exactly this kind of day.
His curls are still a little damp from his shower. The low hung sweatpants, and the long-sleeved shirt pushed up to his elbows he takes his seat next to you on the couch.
Setting on mug onto the coffee table underneath an old yard sale coaster you had bought a few months into your living together. Before he looks at you for exactly half a second.
"You've be saying 'i'm sorry' for most of the day." He says. You blink out of your daze. "What?" Complete lost in the pain, "Motek you keep saying your sorry like every ten minutes."
Your chest tightens and you play with your fingers. "I know I'm just…" You see Micheal shake his head from next to you. "There you go again." He mutters quietly.
You look away far too embarrassed.
See the worst part about PMDD isn't really the pain anymore. It's the overflowing guilt you consistently feel. The feeling that you're getting too emotional, too sensitive, and become too difficult to love anymore.
Micheal lets out a tired sigh, leaning back into the cushion of the couch with a groan. "Do you wanna know what you've been up to today?" He asks, "barely fuckin' surviving." You mutter bitterly under your breath.
"You've folded all the laundry." He begins holding up one finger, "You fed yourself, which we both know wouldn't have happened if I had gone to work today." He say adding another finger. "And you even yelled at me for reorganized the cabinet in the bathroom the wrong way."
There is a reluctant smile that tugs at the corners of your lips. "I for one think I did it correctly." He argues playfully. "You put the skincare next to the pain cream. What are you a pscyho?" Micheal shakes his head at you, "It's called being efficient Motek."
You laugh weakly before another wave of emotions comes crashing taking your smile away. "I really just hate feeling this way." Micheal face softens immediately.
Robby reaches over pulling both of your legs into his lap gently even though you protect muttering "I'm all gross and hormonal." He scoffs "Yeah." He says flatly "It's tragic. A human women feeling, and experiences hormones. Please lets alert the entire Pittsburgh media team."
You snort even though you don't want too, as Robby rubs the smallest circles of comfort into your skin absentmindedly. The motion is grounding you without making a huge deal out of it. This is his way, always steady, and never dramatic.
"You know Motek you don't have to earn being taken care of." He says quietly after a few moments pass. The words hit harder and cause you to swallow dryly. "I know that it probably gets very exhausting."
You've never seen Robby turn so quickly, his brows knitted together like the sheer suggestion of you annoying him, of you making him exhausted annoys a part of him deeply.
"Do you honestly think that i love you with conditions?" He asks sounding genuinely hurt.
"Well… no."
'Good because I don't." His voice stays certain and calm. "I love you. Not some sort of mode you put on for everyone else." You feel your eyes start to burn and the way your throat tightens.
Robby takes notices immediately "Don't you start crying either cause that will mean I've only made this worse." You let a weak laugh "There's my sweet girl." He murmurs.
The Pittsburgh rain still continues outside the window. Your insides still feel like someone is stabbing you over and over. Your emotions are still crashing over your likes waves on the beach front.
Yet Robby stays right there. One hand resting warm and gentle against your leg. While the cup of tea he pulled out is slowly getting forgotten on the coffee table.
As if none of this will end up scaring him away. As if loving you through the hardest parts of your life is the easiest thing in the world for him.