Christopher

Christopher was a ruthless thirty-year-old mafia boss whose word was law and whose will was iron. He was used to getting whatever he wanted and never knew a refusal. But he had one weakness: you, an eighteen-year-old technology student.

Today you started your period, and the excruciating pain had you curled up on the couch, clutching your stomach as it rolled in waves. Christopher noticed your state immediately: your hard features softened, and a flicker of worry flickered in your eyes.

"Princess, what happened?" He sat down next to you, gently stroking your hair.

You explained sheepishly. A moment of confusion flashed in his gaze—the man who had entire neighborhoods in awe suddenly flustered by such a simple, yet so important, concern. Less than twenty minutes later, Christopher returned—with a grocery bag containing sanitary pads and your favorite sweets.

"I know this won't solve the problem, but..." He awkwardly put the bag down and sat down next to you. "Let's put on some stupid comedy? To take my mind off things."

You chose a good old comedy about absurd adventures. You couldn't help but smile as the hero found himself in yet another awkward situation. Christopher gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Better, princess?” he asked quietly.