20
CLARITY
A weight sits on my stomach. It feels like I have a boulder on me.
I open my eyes to Olias, lying and hugging my entire body under his. But his head is under my shirt, like a weirdo. I love my weirdo.
He said he wanted to be closer to me last night, so it was under my shirt.
I pull my shirt up, him between my legs, and smile, combing through his hair.
Then my stomach twists, and I nearly buckle, groaning at the pain in it.
Oh no, please, not now...
I tap Olias head, and he groans in question, not lifting.
"Olias, get up, please."
"Nu-uh." He tightens his grip around me, but my stomach still feels like a chainsaw is running through it.
"I'm serious. Get up," I nudge his head, and he lifts himself.
His face is pink and puffy from sleep, his eyes low as he comes up and lies beside me now instead. "Clarity," he groans, his voice deep with sleep. “It's like seven a.m. Go back to sleep.” His eyes are still shut. Is he even awake?
I bite my cheek as I look down at the gray sweatpants I borrowed from Olias last night when we came back from the lounge thing.
I tilt my hips up and reveal my worst nightmare ever.
My period stains the sweatpants and the white sheets below me in a circle the size of an apple.
Coldness rushes over me, my eyes widening and my breath quickening. Crap of all craps. What should I do? I don't even have feminine products here!
I'm going to cry.
Peeling at my lip— a terrible habit—I turn and shake Olias as my only option.
What if he thinks it's disgusting, like Jonah did?
Olias finally opens his eyes and looks at me. And when he does, he searches my face, furrowing his brows.
He sits up on his elbow. "What happened?"
"I uh... need help," I say. "With a girly thing."
Confusion sets in.
I want to fall from an airplane with no parachute.
I sigh, sitting up and tying my hair into a low bun with the scrunchy on my wrist before awkwardly and slowly getting off the bed.
I turn around to view the stain I've made at night and Olias surprised face.
"Oh shit, are you hurt?" he says, still blinking the sleep out of his eyes. "You're bleeding ."
I can feel my face burn red as he looks at me. I shake my head, and his face drops in realization.
A quiet, dragged-out 'oh' leaves him, and he walks towards me. "Shit, I'm fucking stupid," he curses himself.
I cover my face with my hands, hiding the humiliation. "I'm so sorry," I mutter into my palms.
His hand comes to my back, and he laughs out loud in one breath. "Clarity, it's okay."
I shake my head. "No, it's embarrassing."
He pulls my hands away from my face, lifting my chin to him. "Don't be embarrassed. I can put the sheets in the washer and get you washed up, too, alright? It's normal, isn't it?" he assures me.
I sniffle, nodding, feeling relieved by his words. He kisses my forehead and pulls the sheets off the bed.
"Olias," I start.
"Hm?"
"Can you pick up pads for me? I don't have any here," I say quietly, even though he's made me feel a little more comfortable.
He pauses before nodding. "Sure."
I make my way to the bathroom, shuffling my legs together as Olias handles the sheets. I strip my clothes and get into the shower, immediately feeling the warm water soothe my cramping stomach and put my uterus at ease for the time being.
I've never cramped this badly before, though.
The ding of my phone sitting on the sink makes me twist the water out of my hair and reach half my body out of the shower to grab it.
I read a text from Olias, realizing I had never changed his contact name when I wanted to hide any texts or calls from Jonah.
Olinda: How big are you?
How big am I? What the heck does he mean how big am I?
Me: What are you asking?
Olinda: Your pussy size. Tell me how big it is so I can get the right things.
I shut my eyes, slapping my phone screen onto my forehead.
He's an idiot.
Me: You're an idiot.
Olinda: ???
I FaceTime him.
He answers quickly, a pouting face. "Why am I an idiot?"
I laugh, still with my body halfway out of the shower. "Because you are. It doesn't go by size. It's by how much... comes out."
He stares blankly at something behind the phone, and I try my hardest not to laugh at him, but this is too humorous.
"Oh..."
My clueless baby.
I sigh patiently, realizing he's never done this before. "Are you in the feminine product area?"
He nods in the camera.
"Okay, walk over to the Always branded ones," I instruct. "Then flip the camera to show me them."
He walks aimlessly back and forth, his expression clueless yet determined. Then his eyes light up. "Oh, these!" he says a little too excitingly, making me giggle.
He flips the camera, showing me all the pads. I nod, "Okay, now grab just two of the Maxi ones."
"Do you bleed a lot?" he questions innocently.
I nod as he flips the camera back to face him. He stares at it as if really concerned. "Stop saying it like that," I snort. “Someone might hear you.”
"Is that... y'know, like, a concern, or no," he genuinely wonders, awkwardly breaking his words up.
I press my lips together, attempting to keep a straight face, and nod my head, "It's different for every girl, but no."
"Is there anything else you need? Ice cream, maybe? Google said that heating pads can help your stomach cramps, so I'll get you that, too.”
"You don't have to get me anymor—"
He hangs up. My jaw drops. Rude much?
Setting my phone back down on the sink and returning to the shower, my stomach cramps again, and I almost slip but catch myself. I wash off for ten minutes before I hear a knock at the door and Olias voice.
"Come in!" I yell, shutting off the water and siding back the shower curtain. I probably have five minutes before Niagara Falls between my legs.
Olias walks in instantly, his eyes harshly outlining my wet and very naked body. Large bags hang from his hands.
I grab the towel, and his eyes follow my every movement.
A smile sits on my lips. "This girly is off limits for the next four days, Olias," I say, hinting between my legs. Even though we haven't done the big dirty yet, we've still done different dirties.
He smirks. "A period wouldn't stop me from doing what I want to you, Clarity. Trust me."
Through the mirror above the sink, I see my cheeks beginning to glow. At least they're hiding a little behind my wet strands of hair. I ask him for my things, and he leaves the bathroom so I can do my business.
Walking out with a pair of black sweats and his shirt, as always, I hear the rumbling behind a door that I assume is the laundry room.
But I return to Olias' room to find his bed with a new pair of sheets and bags on his desk. "What's with all the bags?"
He's pouring Dog some food and turns to me, walking towards the bags. "More of your soakers. Heating pads, chocolate bars, Frosted Flakes, cookies, and Advil. And some other stuff."
I cringe at his word choice. "Soakers?"
He shrugs. "Well, that's what they do, right? They s—"
I raise a hand and look over the back at all the things. "You didn't have to."
He walks to hug me from behind, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my neck. "Now, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't, my sweet girl?"
***
OLIAS
I glance at myself in the mirror behind my closet door. Dressed in a suit and tie. I tried to do something with my hair, but it's still fucked. I need a haircut.
It's been a while since I've been in a suit, five months to be exact, at the funeral.
But if I'm going to do this, I'll have to wear them for years.
I ruffle my hand through my hair once more before pushing it back, letting it fall over my forehead, and walk out my room door.
It's nearly eight am, and Clarity sits in the kitchen, papers scattered across the counter.
It's been a few days since she went to pick up these college applications from Natalie.
She's barely rested since she started filling them out.
Her brown hair is pulled up in a bun, and some hair falls over her face. I took her shopping for new clothes so she didn't have to wear mine all the time, even though she protested. But now she is wearing her new pajama shorts and my shirt.
She taps a pencil on her chin in deep concentration as I step closer to her, kissing her head from behind.
She jumps and immediately relaxes. "Oh, Olias." She turns around, laughing at her little scare. But when her eyes fall on me, they widen, trailing down my body.
Fuck, that's so damn hot.
Her hand comes up and slides down my suit jacket, and I can feel myself growing with just that simple touch.
I step in between her legs, and she looks back up at me.
"I really love your suit," she says, biting her lip. "You look nice."
My stomach twists in the way it only does for her. I hold her neck and bend down to press my lips against hers.
"And I love you," I say as a thank you.
She smiles, brings her hand to my tie, pulls me back to kiss me, and whispers, "I love you too."
She's gonna make me stay home and take her to bed.
But I'm pulled out of my head when her face winces. She grips her stomach and groans softly.
I furrow my eyebrows. "What's wrong?" She shouldn't be having stomach cramps anymore; her period ended yesterday, she said.
She shakes her head. "Nothing. I think I'm getting a little sick or something."
I put a hand on her head, but it's not warm. No fever, at least. "Do you want me to stay home? Make your tea or soup?"
She shakes her head. "Everything'll be alright with me, Olias. Really. Plus, you can't miss this meeting, remember?"
She's right. It's either I go and claim my dad's company, or it gets put on sale.
"Call me if anything comes up, and I'll be here in minutes."
She nods. "I will."
I raise my pinky with my tattoo, along with one brow. She presses her lips together as if I'm being excessive but still makes the pinky promise.
"Also, Clarissa wants to come over tonight. So I'm picking her up at the train station," she says. "Do you know what I can get for a twelve-year-old for Christmas?"
Shit, Christmas, I forgot it's this month.
At the vibration in my pocket, I grab my phone to read a text from Lena Hills, my secretary, whom I've been avoiding talking to for the past five months.
Lena: Good morning. Where are you, Mr. Grey? Ten minutes till the meeting. Your uncle’s already here.
Me: Good morning. Fuck off.
I shut my screen and look at Clarity, sighing. "I have to go, baby. I'll be back soon."
The frowning look on her face nearly makes me say fuck everything. But she quickly replaces it with a smile and nods, kissing me once before I find the will to leave towards the door.
"Olias!" she calls.
I turn. Please tell me to stay. "Yeah?"
She points to the living room coffee table. "Don't forget your briefcase." It sits on it, the black briefcase. Shit. I thank her, that would've fucked shit up for today if I left it.
It takes me exactly ten minutes to get to the Empire State Building, going fifteen over the speed limit.I showed my ID at the front and passed the security checks before going to the 50th floor. Getting off the elevator, I see Lena when the doors open. She is dressed in office attire: long black pants and a flowing shirt. She has a hand on her hip, already looking to make my day hell.
"Mr. Grey, you're a few minutes late," she informs the obvious, walking beside me and clicking her heels.
The name she used is the same name that was used for my father. It makes me uneasy, but I'd rather be addressed by his name than my first name.
I've been on this floor more times with my dad than I can count. When I was a boy, I played with paper airplanes in his spinning chair or pretended to be a businessman like him.
Dad looks down at me as I open the door to his meeting, and a bunch of other guys surround the table.
“Dad, look!” I show him my paper plane. The important men laugh softly at me.
Dad lowers into a crouch. “Olias, buddy, you can’t be in here.”
“But I wanted to show you my plane.”
He takes the plane and ruffles my hair. “Good job. Now, go back and see what Nessy is doing. You know your sister hates the office.”
I swallow bile and blink away the memory, making my way to the office with ease.
"A few minutes won't kill them. Those are grown men, not toddlers with attention spans the size of a rice grain," I deadpan.
I open the door to my office, or more so my dad's old office. The biggest one on the floor. A large desk sits off the side, and the back wall has two large windows that look down at New York City.
Clarity would love the view.
I shrug off my coat, hanging it in the small closet.
My gaze shifts towards Lena, who stands in the doorway. I've known her for a couple of years, five maybe, when I started coming here, being the same age as her. She'd always come with her father to talk to mine. We never said much to each other, but now she moved up a few positions from being her father's observer.
"Is there a reason you're standing there?" I question as I unload my suitcase, setting down my laptop on the desk, a picture frame of me and my family that Vanessa had on her desk, and a box of Frosted Flakes that I plan to keep in a mini fridge under my desk for day I might run late and need to eat at the office.
Lena steps in, ignoring my words. "Frosted Flakes? You know you can call literally anytime and get whatever you want from downstairs."
I nod. "I know that."
Brushing the subject off, she sighs. "I'm proud of you for making this decision, Olias. Your dad would be, too," she says. "There's a legacy you're upholding here."
I turn to her, setting the cereal box beside the monitor, then put my hands in my pants pocket.
"Mr. Grey," I correct her. Hearing her say my name makes me wince. The only woman I want to utter my name is Clarity. "It's Mr. Grey."
She nods. "Sorry, Mr. Grey."
And with that, I make my way towards the door, with her following me, and enter the meeting room. There's a long table, and I'm met with men in suits just like I saw with Dad when I was younger and, of course, my uncle Elijah being in the mix of it all.
I make eye contact with him, and he nods. I drift my eyes away boringly.
Walking, the room quieting at my arrival, eyes on me.
And at the end of the table, where the only empty seat is, I go to sit.
"Who's here to buy my father's company?" I ask, my voice echoing through the brightly lit room from the large windows to the side.
Several hands gradually go up. Two. Four. Five…
I nod, leaning back in the chair. "Cool, now get the fuck out."