Itch

"Oh it's itchy! Scratchy itchy everywhere." Violet is propped up on her bed with her blankets bunched around her legs and the majority of her body covered in chickenpox. She holds her hands up to her face looking at the red welts and begins to furiously scratch the backs of her hands.

"Best not to do that dear, you'll scar and possible get the wounds infected." Moira sets a cup of tea on Violet's bedside table and pulls her hands down to her sides. Moira fusses with Violet's blankets, but they are soon kicked back into a mess when Violet whines and shimmies down the bed lying on her back.

"It's too itchy! When you're gone I'm gonna scratch my face, my arms, my legs, my stomach, my back..."

"I could cover your hands. A pair of gloves tapped to you wrists to stop you scratching if you feel you'll have problems resisting the urge."

"No. No thank you." She sulks.

"Here drink your tea." Violet sits up takes the tea from Moira's hand and drinks.

She instantly pulls a face and spits the tea back into the cup. "Bleugh!" Shoving the cup back at Moira she asks, "What's this?"

"Chamomile with honey and lemon, it should help you to sleep. Try it again." Moira hands the tea back to Violet and watches as she gingerly sips it pulling the same face as before but not spitting it out again. Moira leaves the room and Violet puts the tea on her bedside table.

"Why? Why and how, have I got chickenpox? I'm not a child, why'd I get it? Well I am a child, I'm not forty I'm sixteen, but I'm not a little teeny tiny child. Next thing you know I'll have an ear infection. Actually I really hope not I hate them." She lies back down on her bed and sighs.

"Make it go away please." Violet's staring at the ceiling and sweating. "Don't know why I'm asking an empty room for this you can't help. Or can you? Do you do pox removal?" She thinks for a moment then continues talking to the ceiling, "I think I may have a fever."

She wriggles on her bed trying desperately to relieve the itches on her back. She then turns over onto her stomach in order to scratch her legs on the sheets. Wiggling around in her bed feels good and she decides that she wasn't technically scratching so she can't get in trouble for it.

"What are you doing?" Tate's voice comes from the end of her bed.

"Oops been caught." She thinks out loud.

"Vi don't scratch you'll make it worse."

"I'm not scratching I'm wriggling." She says as she turns over onto her back and leans up on her elbows. Tate's standing at the foot of her bed with his hands in his pockets.

"You were scratching." He pulls his hands out of his pockets and places them on his hips. Smirking he waggles a finger at her.

"Not real scratching."

"You'll get scars."

"Don't lecture me, it's so itchy."

"Let me put lotion on you then." He moves round to the side of the bed where Violet is and picks the lotion bottle up off the bedside table.

"NO!" Violet pulls herself bolt upright into the middle of the bed and draws her legs up to her chest. But then her eyes close and she gives a small sigh as she starts falling onto the bed. Tate grabs her shoulders as her body slips down and stops her from falling too close to the edge of the bed.

"Hey what happened there?" Tate asks as he positions her back up against the pillows.

"Head rush." Violet's still got her eyes closed and is puffing out little breaths to try and get her heart rate back under control. He puts the back of his hand to her forehead.

"You still have a fever." He sits down next to her.

"Stays for a few days after the sores appear."

"Sores. Sexy." She opens her eyes and sees that he's grinning at her.

"Lotion will help your itches, let me." He pulls back the covers before Violet gets another chance to protest. She's wearing ¾ length pyjama pants so she thinks she should be ok he won't see it. But if he gets too far up her legs he will, she thinks.

"I'm fine I don't need lotion." She tries to pull her legs up again but he grabs her ankles and pulls her legs down flat against the bed. It's not rough and he doesn't hold her down but she don't pull away again.

"Fine. Lotion me up." She flings her arms to her sides. He gives a small sweet laugh and uncaps the bottle of lotion.

It's sitting on her left thigh just above her knee and she hopes he won't see it. He begins smoothing lotion onto her pox and as he moves further up her legs she closes her eyes enjoying the feel of his hands on her skin.

"What's that?" She opens her eyes to find Tate looking at her left leg his hand resting on the side of her knee and his thumb pushing her pyjama leg up.

"Nothing." She moves to pull her pants leg back down but he stops her and pulls it further up instead.

"Is that...SpongeBob?"

"Yeah."

"Why do you have a SpongeBob tattoo on your thigh?" He looks up at her laughing.

"A friend of mine back in Boston wanted to train as a tattooist so we went to get one done together."

"Illegal much."

"Cocaine much."

"Good point. But why SpongeBob?"

"I like SpongeBob and we were a little drunk."

"Drunk tattooist?"

"No. Just stupid enough to do it to me."

"What did your friend get?"

"A butterfly. On her stomach she cried all the way through it."

"Must have hurt. Did yours?"

"Yay and nay. I'm tired."

"Lie down then." Tate helps Violet lie down and pulls the blankets up over her. He watches her fall asleep and when he's sure she's out he pulls the blankets down and her pyjama leg up looking at the tattoo again and smiling.

"You look good with ink even if it is SpongeBob." He reaches into this jeans pocket and pulls out his phone. He takes a photo of the tattoo before tucking Violet back into bed.