Illicit Affairs ~ A Chris Motionless Love Story

Chapter Nine - The One Where Scarlett Gets Deathly Ill

SCARLETT'S POV
I sent Hailey home early that day, and shut down the shop after my last appointment. I was rather sore, and didn't feel up to staying and seeing if I had any walk ins anyways, so I headed straight home. Already I had my dinner figured out. Sautéed chicken with Alfredo and a glass of wine, maybe turn on Star Wars and chill out for the night. However, my plan was spoiled when I pulled up and saw Chris' BMW still in my driveway. Fuck, I forgot I told him we'd do dinner together tonight to discuss things. My brain was too frazzled to discuss it at lunch. Hell, it still was. I kind of expected him to go home and flake out, get busy with something else, or somebody else. What had happened earlier was a mistake, I should have told him to go away. I groaned to myself and walked inside. Chris was on the phone with someone, but quickly hung up the moment I came in.

"Hey! How was the rest of your day?" Chris asked as he gave me a tight hug. I thought that was weird, too, but returned his hug. Surely it was just friendly.

"It was good, I didn't realize how big that last client wanted the tattoo, and then they decided they wanted it on their ribs. It was a pain in the ass and my back is killing me, and my shoulders," I told him. I sniffled a little and sneezed, then coughed, then repeated the cycle. Chris frowned slightly, placing his hand over my forehead.

"Scar, you're hot."

"Chris, please, now is not the time for pleasantries-"

"No, you're running fever. Are you feeling okay?" I hadn't thought about it, but now that he mentioned it I really wasn't. I was achey, congested, and cold. "You go lay down, I'll run and pick up something for dinner. I'll be back." Chris kissed my forehead and headed out the door. I was so exhausted that I didn't even take off my makeup, I just went and laid down then turned on a Disney movie. I curled up under my fuzzy blankets, with my hundreds of pillows surrounding me, and Chris walked in with a pizza, several medications, a thermometer, and more Gatorade than I've ever seen. "Okay, so you're going to take the Tylenol to break your fever, and then Advil in the next four hours if it comes back. This is for the congestion, this is for your throat, and the chocolate is just because I know you like chocolate. Now scoot over, sicky, I'm laying down with you." Chris kicked off his shoes and laid down with me, all while I looked at him in bewilderment at his behavior. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing, no reason," I told him as I shrugged and turned back to the TV. He smiled and looked over at me, but didn't say anything. He didn't have to say anything for me to know what he was thinking, but I'd still rather him come out and say it. I wanted to hear it from him. I wanted him to tell me I plagued his mind, that I sunk my claws deep into him, that I was the last thing he thought about last night, and the first thing he thought of this morning. But he'd never call it what it was, or what it felt like. No, we were destined to stay 'friends with benefits'. That's all we were. That's all we will ever be. Just friends. Just friends. Just friends.
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CHRIS' POV
Scarlett dozed about fifteen minutes after she took the medicine, and she needed to. She looked pale, and unwell. I couldn't help but take pity on her and try my best to take care of her. I'd be a dick if I just left her here alone. Believe me, I thought about it. Ryan was in town and wanted me to go out with him, Ricky, and Vinny. Instead I'm here coddling a feverish 22-year-old tattoo artist. Though, she was kind of cute when she's passed out this hard, her mouth slightly agape, her red hair now messy from the pillow. A small smile came across my face, and my heart had made the decision for me to stay with her for the night. Scarlett's makeup was still on her face, becoming smudged and staining her black satin pillow case, so I made my way to the master bathroom and searched her counter for her makeup remover. "Jesus Christ," I mumbled to myself. "Does this woman ever organize this shit?" Her countertop was cluttered with makeup, contact solutions, random earring pieces, and enough bobby-pins to run a small salon. Finally I spotted the purple Clinique bottle and her cotton-rounds. Perfect. I spilled a little onto one and my phone started ringing. I sighed and put it down, then picked up my phone.

"Yes, Vinny?" I asked quietly as to not wake Scar. I could hear Rick and Ryan shooting shit in the background.

"Where are you? Are you coming over to play games?" He asked. I sighed and looked in at Scar, peacefully sleeping and slightly snoring.

"Nah, man. Scarlett's sick, I'm gonna help her out." I didn't think about how it sounded, I mean, it's what I'd do for any friend. As I stood there, trying to think of how to justify it to them, I heard Scarlett coughing and wheezing in the room. "Fuck, I gotta go, Vinny." I hung up on him and ran in, watching Scar clutch her chest. "Hey, Scar, are you okay? Can you breathe?" She couldn't answer, so she shook her head. I mumbled a few curse words as I pulled on my shoes. I checked her temperature again, and it sealed it. We were going to the hospital. I lifted her bridal style and carried her out to the Hellcat, knowing that thing would get us there faster than any ambulance. When I looked over at her I noticed her eyelids were slowly shutting and then would open. I gripped onto her hand and squeezed it tightly. This was not how I envisioned our night going at all.