#eliteimagines

You felt off all morning. You woke up feeling cold, a chill clanging to your skin despite the warmth of your bed. Your body ached, your throat was drier than a sandbox, and a persistent headache throbbed behind your eyes. However, a mild cold was nothing you couldn’t push through — or so you though. As the day went on, it had become harder to ignore the sickness creeping in. The fluorescent lighting of the classroom made your vision swim, the words on the board were blurred together, and the chatter of your classmates sounded unbearably loud.

“You okay?” Carla’s voice broke through the haze, and you felt her sharp eyes scrutinizing you. “Yeah, I’m fine — just a little tired,” you answered, forcing a weak smile. She did not look convinced, neither nor Guzmán and Lu when they turned in their seat.

“You do not look tired,” Lu said bluntly, exchanging worried glances with Carla. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

The nausea was crawling in your throat. You swallowed hard and took a deep breath — you just had to make it until class came to and end — a few more minutes.

“Y/N? Do you want some water?” Ander’s voice barely registered. Your head was spinning, the murmurs around you blurred into a hum as your body wavered in its fight to stay upright. A wave of heat rolled over you, suffocating and unbearable.

“It’s so hot in here…” you murmured, tugging desperately at the collar of your shirt. The fabric felt suffocating against your burning skin. “Please, don’t be so close to me.”

Ander immediately pulled back. “I’m getting you some water,” he offered, his voice laced with concern. Worried glances were exchanged between your classmates, but you couldn’t process any of it. Every inch of your skin felt too hot. “Please, I— I need some air,” you pleaded.

Someone — Nadia? — opened the window.

Voices were overlapping in frantic concern the moment Valerio stepped in the classroom. His head snapped at your direction just as he caught the tail end of you saying you needed some air. The second he heard air, his jaw clenched. His eyes found you in an instant — unnervingly pale skin, shallow breaths — he knew that look.

“Everyone get back, let her breathe,” he snapped, pushing through the desks, desperate to get to you. Carla was the first to react with Samuel, Polo and Guzmán following suit. Nadia, Rebeka and Lu were hesitant but listened, and shifted away.

Valerio kneeled beside you. “I don’t feel good,” you whispered to him. You were swaying slightly, your eyes hazy, unfocussed. Valerio reached for you, his hands resting on your shoulders, trying to steady you.

“You’re okay, I got you,” he said softly, his voice low and soothing but with an undertone of concern. He could feel the heat radiating off you, your skin damp with sweat. Your breath hitched, your fingers gripping at his shirt. “It’s so hot in here,” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I got the water,” Ander passed the bottle to Valerio. One hand cradled the back of your head as he brought it to your lips. “Just one sip,” he urged, titling the bottle slightly. The cold water touched your lips, and another wave of nausea surged through you. Your vision blurred, your ears rang, and everything went black.

—

“Dios, don’t do that again,” Lu exhaled sharply, just as your eyelids fluttered open. Her hands were crossed over her chest, more out of anxiety rather than annoyance.

“You scared the hell out of us,” Carla added — her usual cold demeanor had been replaced with something softer, warmer.

“Oh, so now you care?” Rebeka scoffed, arching her eyebrow. Her sharp gaze shifted between them. Simultaneously, Carla and Lu shot her a death glace. “Cállate, Ghetto Barbie,” Lu snapped. Her gaze shifted back to you. “Unlike you, we actually know her — she’s always too damn stubborn to admit something’s wrong.”

“No, you’re just always too damn busy gossiping to actually notice if something’s wrong,” Rebeka shot back.

“Enough,” Guzmán cut in, standing between them. His eyes darted to you, still curled in Valerio’s lap. “Stop talking about Y/N like she’s not right here.”

This was enough for Rebeka and Lu to pause, even if they were still glaring daggers at each other.

“And stop acting like she flatlined,” Valerio muttered. His fingers were tangled in your hair, his touch grounding you.

“She almost did — she completely collapsed,” Nadia commented, earning a scoff from Ander. “Alright,” he huffed, rubbing his temple. “Enough with the dramatics. She needs to go home now, before she collapses again.”

Carla rolled her eyes, her fingers tapping impatiently on her crossed arms. “Ander is right. She shouldn’t be here — she looks like she just crawled out of her own grave.”

“That’s exactly what I was trying to do before Ghetto Barbie over here decided to pick a fight,” Lu muttered. Rebeka’s eyes flared.

Rebeka’s jaw clenched. “You want to keep pushing me, princesa? Because I swear—”

“Basta!” Valerio snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut through the rising tension. His arms tightened around you protectively when you flinched at the sudden volume. That was enough to shut everyone up.

His expression softened as he looked down at you. “I’m taking her home.”

“Who the hell knew Mr. Chile is boyfriend material,” Rebeka quipped. Lu scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, please. He’s just trying to be useful for once.”