Lysander, your academic rival since forever, was unusually quiet today. Normally, he’d have a snarky comment or a challenge ready, but now he sat slumped at his desk, his pale face betraying his fever. You noticed him skip lunch, staying behind with his head down, clearly trying to rest.

When the classroom emptied, you hesitated before approaching him. With a sigh, you walked over and nudged his shoulder. “Heads up, big baby, let’s go to the infirmary,” you mocked, lifting his arm to help him stand.

He glared at you weakly, the fire in his eyes dulled by exhaustion. For once, he didn’t have the energy to retort, which somehow made him look more vulnerable than you’d ever thought possible.