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━━━

I had found something strange today occur. 

As when I had awoken, bathed and opened the white-painted armoire within our room to change, I slid my chosen dress from the hanger, and paired it with my undergarments and corset. 

August was already out of bed, though, not far, as he'd been doing his morning laps around the perimeter of the field's grassy planes. 

It helps clear his mind, and the general workout keeps him physically shaped. 

I would get changed, sliding my nightgown off to get ready for the morning. Undergarments and all, just to slip my corset on. 

And as I had begun to fit and tie the lacing, I had found a sore tenderness ache across my chest, primarily across my breast area. 

I had suspected it to be due to my monthly cycle approaching. 

Particularly PMS - premenstrual syndrome, for things such as tender breasts and the strange fuzziness I had pulsing through my mind across these weeks, but that had not explained why my senses have been so utterly sharp. 

I had decided to avoid the corset today, as the restricting pain would be too uncomfortable to handle across the hours. 

Though, my own reflection would meet me in the mirror within our bedroom. From the reflected half-trim of the walls, the floral paintings August had hung for me, to myself, my own eyes would meet me. 

My eyes were slightly puffy, as if I'd been crying recently. 

I sigh, soon sliding my dress over my undergarments, strange without the rigid robustness of a corset underneath. 

━━━

I had stuck two spoons under some cold water, pressing them over my eyes until the puffiness had eased. 

My mind is clouded, and no matter how much cleaning and cooking and tending to my flowers I distract myself by, my intuition is sharper than it ever has been. 

I had made some jams today!

Strawberry jams and such, within lovely little jars that August quite grimly likes to shove his fingers into, eating away faster than it took for me to actually prepare them. 

I don't mind; it makes me happy to see him enjoy what I make!

I do enjoy watching the strawberries I grow bloom into colour, as even the little things are pleasing to observe. 

I like to be proud of myself, to accomplish things such as this. 

With the spare strawberries, I had sliced and added them to a cake I had prepared. They sit pretty and colourful on top the the frosting, yet I keep that for dessert. 

My head is fuzzy- 

I take a deep, shaky breath, eyes flickering over the kitchen window as I watch the breeze dance through the field grass, August outside playing with a ball with Spades. 

Kicking a ball back and forth, Spades sometimes nudging the ball back with his nose, a heartwarming sight that pulses tenderness through me, yet doesn't ease the strange haziness clouding my mind and sight. 

My eyes flicker down to the pulled pork I had been preparing for dinner, sighing shakily. 

I don't feel hungry, though I know August will feast like he hasn't eaten in weeks. 

━━━

"Ya' not hungry?"

He questions whilst chewing away, the dining table before us, long and lengthy. 

Though, with such a lengthy, glossy oak dining table, only two chairs are occupied. His and mine.

I have been moving my dinner around with my fork silently, avoiding the idea of having to chew, swallow, and digest anything. 

I stay silent for a moment, wishing to not cause any distress within my husband's mind, though I softly murmur.

"...I had lunch; I'm not too hungry..."

"What'd ya' have?"

I go silent, for much too long, before he sighs. 

"Ya' got somethin' goin' on that you haven't been tellin' me, darlin' belle?"

He questions with both concern and confusion, his onyx eyes fluttering over my face with inspection as my gaze avoids his. 

He lowers his fork, taking a sip of water. 

"Talk ta' me, woman,"

He expresses, holding no malice or anger laced through his words, but rather, simple concern. 

My stomach tightens, taking his request to heart as I avoid both the sight of him, and my own dinner. 

"I... I'm alright- maybe under the weather a little..."

August frowns, rising from his chair as the gentle creaks of the flooring shift closer, my head perking to meet his looming, massive figure. 

I blink slowly, his body shadowing beside mine as his cologne hits me- 

Stronger, sharper, almost as if I need to resist coughing. 

I take a shallow breath, feeling his hand lower, his palm meeting my forehead as he hums in slow thought. 

"...Ya' don't got no cough? headache?"

He questions, his touch comforting, easing me, feeling the temperature of my forehead.

"No, not exactly..."

I sigh, his brows tightening in thought as he shifts behind me, gently massaging my shoulders. 

"...Ya' not burnin' up... yer' monthly might just be comin' soon... drink lots' a' water, sleep as much as ya' need..."

He exhales, leaning down as he presses a loving kiss against the crook of my neck, a smile lifting my lips. 

Warmth courses through me, his fingers gently kneading against the skin of my shoulders idly, my mind still consumed by so many incomprehensible questions and thoughts. 

I do force myself to drink down my water, though I find it somewhat hard to do so. 

Consuming, in general - it's been a touch harder than usual lately. 

Though, all August can do is encourage me. 

━━━

And that, he has. 

He has implored me to stay in bed, spoon-feeding me soup, repeatedly check-in in on me. 

Never to pass an hour without entering the bedroom, questioning my wellbeing, touching me skin with purely concern. 

And for days, he has been doing this. 

He says I am not to do anything major unless I feel better, but even after debates of assurance, he denies me the chance to do a single thing myself.

Not a single thing. 

Not until my mind clears, my appetite revives, and I simply feel better in any which way. 

━━━