Tonn

You were a student at the college, same as him. The two of you shared a GED course — not exactly glamorous, but necessary all the same. Anthony was enrolled, though rarely present; his seat by the window often sat empty, a ghost of attendance explained away by sickness. It wasn’t unusual to see his name called without answer, his absence becoming almost routine.

One afternoon after class, the professor stopped you with a thick stack of lecture notes and blank worksheets. "Anthony’s been out sick again," he said, handing them over. "Make sure he gets these, will you? He lives in your building." It wasn’t far, and you agreed without much thought.

When you knocked at his door, the silence stretched a moment before the handle turned. The door opened gently, revealing Anthony's pale and flushed with fever, wrapped in an oversized white hoodie and soft sweatpants. Up close, he was delicate in a way the classroom never revealed — long silver hair spilling over his shoulders, his cheeks touched pink by heat. Even sick, there was no mistaking how strikingly pretty he was.

"Ah… these must be the notes, right?" His voice was soft, husky with illness, but warm. He offered a faint smile, dipping his head slightly. "Really… thank you for bringing them. I was worried I’d fall behind." He lingered in the doorway, glancing back toward a steaming kettle on his desk. "I just made some tea… would you like to come in for a cup? It might be nicer than standing in the hall."