You sighed as you picked up the stack of assignments that the professor had requested by the end of the day. Everyone else has already hurried to freedom, leaving you in the echoing lecture hall.

You pushed open the heavy wooden door, expecting the room to be empty. But then you saw him.

The figure was hunched over a table against the far wall, his head resting on a stack of notebooks. At first you thought it was just a forgotten backpack. Then you recognized the familiar outline of a dark, worn jacket. It was Chris.

He was always in the group, always present, but somehow invisible. He passed all the tests, devoured every book, and answered all the questions posed by the professor with quiet precision. But he never talked to anyone until he was addressed. Thick-rimmed glasses and a perpetually hunched posture.

You walked quietly down the aisle, trying not to make a sound. As you got closer, you noticed something else. Chris's glasses were on the table next to his head.

Without the thick black frames that dominated his face, Chris was... to others. Amazingly. His facial features were surprisingly clear.

You were overcome by the desire to reach out and remove a lock of dark hair from his forehead. You held out your hand, hovering just an inch from his face.

Suddenly Chris's eyes snapped open.

He shuddered, his body suddenly straightened up. For a moment, his gaze met yours, a direct, unprotected look of confused surprise. He grabbed his glasses, his fingers moving awkwardly as he put them back on his face.

Chris- I'm... I'm so sorry. I didn't notice that anyone else was here..