Confession: I’ve been itching to try my hand at writing Strep Throat for quite some time now!
More Confession: I’m trash, so he will be reaching out to R because it’s lowkey really hard for me to not write Enjoltaire in some way.
When Enjolras woke Monday morning with a slight tickle coloring the back of his throat, he pegged it on the slow shift from summer to fall. The temperature was bouncing around like crazy, and many university students were fighting off the tell-tale signs of allergies.
However, half-way through Enjolras’s first class, the tickle had grown and spread, leaving his entire throat feeling raw and sore. He spent the entirety of class quietly clearing his throat and rubbing gingerly at it as if that action alone would soothe the dull throb.
By the time he met with his friends at lunch, his muscles were aching fiercely, and he was sweating yet shivering. The throbbing in his throat had only continued to grow, and one bite of food told him he wouldn’t be eating much for hot pain flared across his throat when he swallowed.