:| Three Guesses |: {Death}

[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

The trip would have been more embarrassing if she hadn’t made it so often. At first, she had used them only for a certain time of the month, but then one of her friends told her that she could use them to soak up the blood from her nosebleeds. It was amazing how many fewer cloths she had to wash after she started using that trick, and soon, it was hard to convince her to go back to the old ways. Unfortunately, it also meant that she had to go on more frequent trips. It was a good thing one of her internships was paying; as long as she lived at home, she could use the money she earned for that.

The frequency of the trips didn’t make the fact that she was buying these products much less embarrassing either. Shiori always dreaded the day that she would run into one of her friends, because her mother had always told her that it was something that she should keep private. Her mother always threw words around like honor, family, and some other one word that was supposed to be symbolic, but Shiori was embarrassed because it was just an embarrassing situation in general. Nosebleeds were common for her, but part of it was because she couldn’t keep her nose out of books that she shouldn’t have been reading.

Her friends never knew; they just thought it was a genetic thing because Shiori had thrown around the excuse that her mother had the same problem when she was younger. It was unusual, yes, but it wasn’t something that she couldn’t hide. Still, she always made sure that she was carrying something else in her arms to hide the little box. There were only a few items left for her to buy, part of them at her mother’s request and the other as fluff, when she rounded the corner and collided into a solid mass.

Everything in her arms trickled out as she stood there mortified, but the feeling only grew when she looked up and saw who it was she had collided with. The response was automatic as her face flushed a deep red and she scrambled to collect everything, but more importantly, hide the little box close to her chest. “Sor—sorry,” she stuttered as she wondered if the situation could become any more embarrassing. Why did I have to run into him of all people? Especially like this?

[Death]

[googlefont="Amatic SC:400"]Eden Simmons

A few things in life were incomprehensible: 

First, that plant food was in the same section as cat and dog food.

Second, that chocolate and nsAIDs weren't automatically placed in with the feminine hygiene products.

Third, that mothers would require sons to visit the aforementioned aisle.

Fourth, that mothers as old as his still had periods anyways.

With dad out with his buddies enjoying a drink or two and Mom curled in the fetal position under the micro-fleece blanket that was older than Eden, just her little feet peeking out between the alternating flashes of hot and cold that she experienced, Eden found that the job of providing pain relief and retrieving more-- ahem-- items of a sensitive nature.

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to get. Long? Regular? Thin? Maxi? WINGS??? Did women expect their pads to fly into the garbage of their own accord? His mother wasn't exactly the most specific woman in these kinds of situations. All he'd been able to get out of her was "Pads. Chocolate. nsAIDs. Now. Please."

Eden's head ducked up and down until he finally saw one that kinda looked like something he'd seen on her bathroom counter. A nondescript black box that said pads in pink lettering. Other had blue or green or yellow. He was pretty sure the lettering was pink.

With the rattling bottle of nsAIDs and melting bag of chocolate in one hand and the little black box in the other, he glanced around the corner of the aisle. Everything would be fine. He obviously didn't need them. 

It was embarrassing, however.

Most people would assume it was for a girlfriend he didn't have. Perhaps for a sister he also didn't have. It wasn't common for a 23 year old man to have a mother who still got her period.

He kept walking towards the check-out section and suddenly, something hit him.

Being 6' 8", broad-shouldered and muscular meant that, unless he got hit by the Capitol's train or something, he wasn't going anywhere.

"Are you okay?" he asked and then he realized---

It was Shiori.

His heart kicked into its highest gear and he was certain he heard the faint wail of a Code Red or Nuclear War siren sounding in the distant reaches of his mind.

"Sor-- Sorry," she stammered out. Was that a blush? He couldn't be sure.

He knew his cheeks were heated, though. He probably looked sunburned.

"No-- it's not your fault. Are you hurt?" He reached out to help pick her up.

[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

The mortified feeling of bumping into Eden of all people wouldn’t leave and neither would the red that crossed her cheeks. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to run away without saying anything or just stay and talk as if nothing happened. There was no denying that she felt a certain away when she was around him that made her want to stay and continue talking to him, but she couldn’t think of a more inconvenient time and place to hold a conversation. She took his hand and rose up until she was standing on two feet again, muttering a shy “no” in response to his question.

Her “no” came out shakily as she tried to gather her composure but knew that she couldn’t as long as she held that box in her hand. “I’m—I’m okay,” she added, realizing how unconvincing her “no” had been. “I didn’t—hurt you, right?” The thought of her small body actually hurting him was laughable, but she didn’t want to seem rude and assume that he was okay. Shiori finally took the chance to look up—wow, was he always that tall?—to see his face and noticed that his face looked a little flushed as well.

The last time she had felt this red was back at the office outing, and yet she had alcohol to assist her that time. “I—um, what are you doing here?” she asked, as if it was a casual run in and she hadn’t just dropped several store items. She immediately felt dumb asking the question, her cheeks burning a little more fiercely, and started to mentally berate herself. As if he can’t go to the store and shop. You’re so dumb. Get your act together. It’s just Eden. But the thought that it was “just Eden” didn’t help.

All she wanted to do was hide her face, and she tried her best with her items. “I’m so sorry. I’m just really embarrassed right now and—“ I’m talking to you. There would be no opportunity to talk about components at the store and Shiori didn’t know any other way to calm herself down. Would there ever be a day that she could talk to him without feeling like her heart was going to explode out of her chest?