Lennard lifted one carefully trimmed fingernail to his neck and dragged it across the skin. The scrape shuddered through his body, briefly offering reprieve from the drone of his coworker who had launched down another useless tangent. The relief was momentary, though, and the burning demand to act returned worse than ever. If he kept scratching, maybe he’d be able to put that moment off long enough for Zach to get tired of talking.

“…is why the flange is actually at fault in this design. Do you think-?”

Unable to contain himself any longer, Lennard interjected. “No, I don’t. I already know what’s happening and why, so how about you shut the hell up and find someone else to bore with your feckless nattering!”

Lennard realized that he’d begun yelling at some point, but the crestfallen misery on Zach’s face filled him with a mix of joy and revulsion. For his part, Zach seemed content to stand there as his eyes filled with tears.

Without another word, Lennard turned and fled, ignoring the itch that continued to gnaw at him. Nothing relieved it, no matter how hard he scratched. Almost in a panic thanks to the desire to claw at his skin until he bled, Lennard darted from the building.

~ ~ ~

Hours later, when Zach finally awoke on his table, Lennard could barely contain himself. As the fog in Zach’s eyes slowly turned to panic, Lennard smiled. “Normally, I avoid shopping where I live, but you fill me with such hatred, Zacharias, that I couldn’t help myself. The itch was too strong.”

As Lennard leaned closer, implements in hand, he smiled down at the man before him. “If it helps, this should keep me comfortable for months. I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever enjoy scratching the itch this much again.”