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She almost missed the spot.
She only noticed because the bathroom light was unforgiving in the morning. Carina was standing in front of the mirror, towel already draped on the hook as she brushed her hair back. That’s when she saw it, just on the side of her breast, oval, pinker than the rest of her skin, slightly dry at the edges.
It didn’t hurt as she pressed it, it wasn’t a lump. It didn’t itch, didn’t feel warm. It was just… there.
She twisted, leaning closer to the mirror, clinical instinct kicking in. She ran through the possibilities automatically, the spot was well defined, a little scaly, but nothing remarkable about it.
Eczema, maybe?
Just dry skin?
Possibly contact dermatitis?
All in all, nothing to be concerned about.
By the time she finished her morning routine and stepped out into the bedroom, she had pretty much forgotten about it.
“Hi,” she greeted her wife, looking in the closet for some clothes
Maya was sitting on the edge of the bed, putting her shoes on. She looked up and smiled at her wife, eyes falling over her curves appreciatively.
Maya stood and tugged her closer by the waist, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “One more shift, and then we’re both off for four days, just you and me.”
“Four uninterrupted days, no pagers, no alarms,” she smirked, “lots and lots and lots of-”
“I have work,” Maya chuckled, though showed no signs of pulling away.
“Hmm,” Carina sighed, “shame. Tonight maybe.”
She leaned in and kissed her again, slower this time, leaving a taste of what was to come on Maya’s lips. “Be safe today.” She murmured.
“You’re ridiculous,” Maya shook her head, “I love you and I’ll see you tonight.” Maya said, before pressing one last kiss to her wife’s lips.
By the time Carina got home from work, Maya was already stretched out on the sofa, a fire documentary playing on the TV, perking up at the sound of the door. “Hi, how was your day?”
“Not too bad, I’ll tell you about it in a minute. I’m just changing and then I’ll be with you so we can order food?”
Maya smiled softly. “Sounds good, take your time. I’ll pull up the menu.”
She disappeared down the hall, already pulling her shirt off as she went, desperate to be out of her clothes after a day of working in the clinic. Reaching for her pyjamas on the bed, she blindly unbuttoned her jeans. She began easing the tight fabric over her hips, when she stopped in her tracks, her eyes caught on a collection of red spots covering her stomach.
They hadn’t been there earlier.
She rushed into the bathroom, turning on the light before looking in the mirror.
They were small, red, scattered.
Immediately, she reached behind and unclipped her bra, letting it fall unceremoniously onto the floor. The original patch from this morning was still there, but it was darker now, more defined at the edges.
She leaned in, squinting slightly, turning sideways and lifting her arm. The skin pulled tight across her abdomen, making the spots stand out clearer in the light. Could see them creeping up along her side.
Her expression shifted, a mix of confusion and curiosity. She ran her fingers over it. Flat. Not painful or warm.
She turned carefully, checking her back in the reflection, a few faint spots there too.
Her jaw tightened slightly. She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead.
No heat.
Still she reached into the cupboard, grabbing the thermometer, putting it in her ear.
She waited, impatiently, for the beep.
Normal.
She turned, not caring that she wasn’t even wearing a bra, rushing out to the kitchen.
“Babe?”
Carina didn’t answer her, reaching up for a glass from the cupboard.
“What are you-”
Maya watched as her wife pressed the edge of the glass into her abdomen.
“Are you okay?”
Carina didn’t answer at first, watching the rash blanch with the pressure of the glass. “Can you check my back?”
“Of course,” Maya said, jumping up. “What am I checking for?”
“Petechial rash.”
“As in meningitis?” Maya asked, alarmed.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“You have a headache?” she asked, keeping her distance.
“No, just this weird rash,” Carina said, turning so Maya could see her stomach. “It blanches here, but can you check my back?”
“Oh okay,” Maya nodded, no longer worried about meningitis. She stepped forward and took the glass off her, pressing it against her skin. Immediately the rash went white and disappeared. “It’s okay. It blanches.”
Carina sagged in relief.
“When did this start?” Maya asked, carefully tracing her fingers over Carina’s skin.
“This one appeared this morning,” she showed Maya the one on her chest. “The little spots I only noticed when I got back from work. They don’t hurt, it’s not itchy, not raised. There’s nothing wrong with it except- well-”
“Your belly is covered in spots.”
“Yeah.”
“What do you think it is?”
“Contact dermatitis except…”
“We didn’t switch detergents, no new cleaning supplies at all.”
“I haven’t tried any new foods either or come into contact with anything at work” Carina said, looking at her stomach again. “What if it’s viral?”
“Do you feel unwell?”
“No, but if it is viral… it could be contagious.”
“Right, but you don’t know if it is viral. And you said you feel fine,” Maya countered, reaching up and pressing her palm to Carina’s forehead. “You don’t have a fever, my love”
“I don’t have one, I checked. But, maybe we should just be more cautious. I could develop one.”
Maya paused.
“Cautious how?”
Carina swallowed. “Less contact. Maybe I should sleep in the guest room later. And head in there now so I don’t make you ill.”
“What?! No!”
“Maya, it could be contagious for all we know!” Carina said exasperated.
“Surely I would have it too then. We’re always around each other… so surely I’d be contaminated anyway.”
Carina sagged. “I don’t want you to get this.”
She reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, keeping her voice soft. “Carina. You think I care about a rash?”
“That’s not the point.”
“It kind of is. I love that you’re trying to protect me.” Maya leaned closer, resting her forehead against Carina’s. “But you’re saying we should stop touching, stop sharing our bed because I might catch something that we don’t even know if it is contagious.”
“It would be irresponsible not to consider it.” Carina said, looking away.
For a moment Maya just watched her, then, without asking, she shifted closer. Her arm slid around Carina’s waist, pressing them together.
The Doctor inhaled sharply. “Maya-”
“If it’s contagious.” She murmured against her shoulder. “I’m already exposed, we share a bed, we steal each other's food and drinks, we kiss Carina.”
“That-”
“-Is very relevant.”
Carina’s hand hovered at Maya’s back. “We don’t know what this is, I don’t want to be the reason you get sick.” Her voice softer now.
Maya pulled back just enough to look at her. “Would you rather I stay away from you? Would that make you feel better?”
The question landed heavier than intended.
“No.”
“Then stop trying to quarantine yourself,” she said gently, pressing a kiss to Carina’s cheek. “If it’s contagious, we’ll find out soon enough.”
“If you develop spots,” Carina muttered quietly, “I will be telling you I told you so.”
Maya smiled against her skin. “If I develop spots, we’ll compare patterns.”
That earned her a laugh, reluctant as it might be.
“But, maybe we get it checked out tomorrow anyway?” Maya offered, brushing her fingers over the spots again. “See a Doctor if it hasn’t cleared up?”
“Hm… sì, I’ll put some moisturizer on it for now. If it’s gone by the morning we know it’s fine, and if it’s still there, I get it checked out.”
Maya gave her a soft smile before tugging her toward the bathroom. “Now go put some clothes on… so we can order some food.” She said with a smirk.
“Just food?”
“You tell me…”
Maya could feel herself falling asleep, her limbs deliciously achy, when she felt Carina turn and reach for her phone on the night stand with a sigh.
“What are you doing?” She muttered, burrowing further into her wife’s neck.
“Googling.”
“Googling what?”
“My spots.”
Maya opened one eye, taking a peek at the screen.
small red spots on skin contagious?
“Oh, so I fuck your brains out and this is what you do in return?”
“Maya.”
“Do you tell your patients to google their symptoms?”
“No but-”
“Okay, let's see what Dr. Google says,” Maya said, taking the phone off her, sitting up, the sheets pooling around her waist. “Alright… meningitis, nope. Chicken Pox, nope you're vaccinated, same with measles and rubella. Hand, Foot and Mouth, unlikely given there’s not an outbreak currently and you don’t have it in your mouth. Chlamydia, gonorrhea, syphilis… nope because the rash is on your boob.”
“Maya!”
“See, googling is not useful, at all.”
“Very funny,” Carina rolled her eyes. “Lie back down.”
“No more googling okay?” Maya said, as she settled against her again, resuming their previous position.
Carina was suddenly aware. Aware of how warm Maya was against her skin. How close she was.
Too close?
The thought slipped back in before she could stop it. “Maybe I should sleep in the guest room anyway.”
The words felt clinical in her mouth, practical, sensible.
Her wife went still. “Babe, come on.”
She exhaled slowly. “We don’t know what this is yet.”
“We don’t know that it’s contagious either.”
“That’s the point. We don’t know.” Her voice stayed soft, controlled.
The firefighter looked at her for a moment before replying. “I don’t care about the risk.”
“I care! If this is viral, if it’s fungal, if it’s something I picked up without noticing-”
“Carina.” Maya interrupted carefully, resting her hand flat against one of the patches on her stomach. No hesitation, just contact. “If I wake up with spots tomorrow, we will deal with it. We just had sex.” She pointed out gently. “If it’s contagious, I’ve already been exposed, repeatedly.”
Despite herself, Carina let out a soft, short laugh. “Okay, maybe, but-”
“No buts. I’ll be okay, right here with you.” She pressed a brief kiss to her temple.
She hesitated for a second longer before letting herself relax against her wife.
The itch started in the middle of the night.
It wasn’t sharp, not unbearable, not even everywhere. It was just a low, persistent irritation beneath the surface of the skin, like fabric rubbing the wrong way.
Heat trapped where it shouldn’t be.
She shifted.
Settled in the new position.
Shifted again.
She tried to ignore it, pressing her palms flat against the mattress instead of scratching before rolling onto her other side.
Maya woke up slowly, her voice thick with sleep. “You okay?”
She exhaled through her nose. “Sì go to sleep.”
Maya’s hand slid over her waist automatically, fingers brushing one of the patches, stilling as Carina’s breath hitched.
“It’s itchy.” Maya didn’t ask, just lifted her head slightly.
A pause.
“...A little.”
Maya pushed herself up onto one elbow, reaching for the lamp. Carina blinked against it, looking vaguely annoyed at being caught.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“It wasn’t itchy before… now it is.”
“Then… why didn’t you wake me?” There was a slight smirk on Maya’s face, though she was clearly still tired too.
“It’s minor.”
Maya studied her for a second longer, clearly unconvinced, before pushing herself upright with a quiet sigh, swinging her legs off the bed. Carina watched her shuffle out into the bathroom, bare feet soft against the floor, as she balled her fists trying not to itch.
A moment later her wife returned carrying a small collection: a fragrance-free lotion and a box of antihistamines, carefully setting them down on the nightstand. “We got some options.” She muttered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
She couldn’t help the small curve of her mouth. “It’s not an anaphylactic reaction.”
“Didn’t say it was. But you know it helps with itchiness.” Maya replied, already popping one tablet out of the blister. She handed it over along with the bottle of water she kept on her nightstand.
She took it without argument while Maya grabbed the lotion. “Come here.”
Carina swallowed the pill, emptying half the bottle before scooting closer, taking her shirt off.
The rash looked more obvious now, scattered along her stomach, across her ribs, trailing faintly up her chest and down her hip.
Maya didn’t comment on it, just carefully started spreading the lotion.
Her touch was slow, deliberate. She started at Carina’s side, spreading the lotion carefully over each patch instead of avoiding them. No flinching, no hesitating. Just steady hands that moved over warm skin.
Her fingers moved in deliberate circles, never pressing too hard. And while the lotion had been cool at first, it quickly started warming under her hands.
Gradually, Carina’s breath started evening out.
“That better?” Maya asked softly.
“It helps.”
Maya nodded, continuing the gentle motion across her ribs, then around her back. All of it unhurried, no commentary about how it looked, no unnecessary reassurances.
Just care.
When she was done, she rested her forehead briefly against her wife’s. “You’re allowed to wake me.”
Carina’s hand moved to Maya’s back before pulling her in for a hug. “I know.”
“Lie down, try to fall asleep. We can book an appointment in the morning,” Maya said softly, lifting the covers for Carina again.
“I’m worried.”
“I know, we’ll get you sorted in the morning,” Maya soothed, slotting in behind her. “Close your eyes, baby.”
Carina sighed, and closed her eyes, pressing closer to Maya despite the itchiness. She needed her wife to hold her.
“Wake me if you need me,” Maya whispered, kissing her cheek before holding her tightly.
Carina woke up slowly, sunlight was already spilling through the curtains. She blinked against the light and rolled onto her back, the itch was more faint now, manageable, barely there.
Her hand drifted absently over her stomach, fingertips brushing over spots.
The mattress dipped, Maya slid back into bed with a mug in one hand and her phone in the other. “Morning.” She murmured
Carina turned her head, watching her. “You’re dressed.”
“Mhm.” She didn’t say anything else, just handed her the coffee with a soft smile.
Carina took it, though she was slightly suspicious of her wife. “What did you do?”
The blonde’s mouth twitched. “I called Dr. Kiets’ office.”
She stilled, mug hovering just short of her lips. “You did?”
“Yes.”
“For me?”
“Yes. They had a cancellation this afternoon.”
She said it with quiet practicality, the same tone Maya used when she scheduled a car service or an order for her coffee beans. Steady, loving.
Carina exhaled slowly.
She hadn’t expected to wake up with an appointment already made, but then again, she did marry Maya Bishop. It made something warm pull low in her chest.
She set the coffee on the nightstand and reached for Maya’s hand instead, tugging her closer until their knees bump under the blanket. “Thank you. The not knowing is… frustrating. Thank you for calling for me.”
“It’s okay, it’s what wives are for. Hopefully Dr. Kiets can tell you what it is.”
Carina leaned sidewards, resting her head against her wife’s shoulder. “I appreciate it.”
Maya’s arm slid around her automatically. “Always.”
Carina sat on the exam table, shoulders squared, chin lifted, she looked composed, professional, yet her hands were tightly folded in her lap.
Maya sat in the chair near the wall, elbows on her knees, just there, silent support.
When the physician stepped in, Carina shifted seamlessly into the role of Doctor. Onset. Progression. Distribution. No fever, no pain, slight itch. No known causes, or recent exposures to new products.
Her tone was calm and precise, clinical in a way.
Dr. Kiets nodded calmly. “Let’s take a look and go from there.”
The Doctor’s gloved hands moved gently across Carina’s skin, pressing lightly on a spot near her belly button, then her hip, looking at her back next. The exam moved quickly, a few closer inspections, a soft murmur of confirmation.
“This looks like pityriasis rosea.” She stated clearly. “Harmless, not contagious. Though uncertain, we suspect it follows a viral trigger, like a cold. The good thing is it’s self-limiting and usually resolves on its own in around two to three months, sometimes a little longer.”
Carina let out a breath.
Not contagious.
Harmless.
Temporary.
The words settled into the room, Carina nodded once, absorbing. Maya’s shoulders dropped visibly, she hadn’t even realized how tense she’d been.
“Is there a treatment for it?” Maya asked from across the room.
“No specific treatment, though if the itch gets worse you can use a petroleum based cream like a cetomacrogol cream. The spots are likely to get worse for a few more weeks, some spreading is fine. Eventually it will fade, but you might see some lighter marks where they used to be for a while.”
“Thank you.” Carina said, politely and composed.
They wrapped up quickly. Follow-up only if it changed dramatically. No restrictions. No precautions.
As soon as the door shut behind them, Carina let out another breath. “Not contagious.”
Maya grabbed her hand, threading their fingers together, squeezing softly. “Not contagious. You don’t need to worry about me getting it.” Maya said gently.
“I know.” Carina looked down at their hands, squeezing back. “But I would have hated if I did.”
“I wouldn’t have cared, and now, we know for sure it’s harmless.” The blond smiled, gently kissing her temple.
“Harmless.”