I wake with a start as a spark of pleasure zips up my spine and blink my eyes open to find Enzo knelt between my legs, a cheeky grin on his face as he trails a languid stroke of his tongue from my clit to my center. That is, until a wave of nausea hits me so suddenly, I kick him off and bolt into the bathroom.
I wretch into the toilet, but nothing happens. Enzo’s at my side in a flash, holding my hair in his fist which he runs a hand down my back.
“Shit, angel. Are you okay? Are you sick? You didn’t drink much last night, so you shouldn’t be hungover, should I get a doctor? Yeah, I’ll call a doctor,” he rambles on, and I let out a breathy laugh.
“I’m okay,” I say as I adjust my position, sitting with my back against the vanity. “No idea what happened, I felt sick, but I don’t feel as bad now.” My face twists with confusion as i think it over.
His expression matches mine before he clenches his jaw. “I’m getting a doc here anyways. I’ll text my dad and let him know we’re staying here another day or two and for them to go back without us.”
“That’s not ne—” I start, but of course he interrupts me.
“It’s happening, uccellina.” He presses a kiss to my forehead before ambling out the room, presumably for his phone.
I stand and brush my teeth, but my eyes stray to the wash bag next to the sink. More specifically, to the box of tampons I can see peeking out the top of the bag.
When was my last period?
I had it just after I slept with Enzo for the first time, and that was… late May? Early June? And it’s now September, which means I haven’t had a period for three months.
I’ve always been irregular, but I’ve never missed three freaking months.
Which means… oh shit.
