CHAPTER 1 - You're An Angel, Morgan

Anon pried his aching eyes open, and immediately regretted his decision to do so.

“Ow…” He painfully murmured to himself. His entire body felt sore, aching head to toe under his blankets. He was completely unable to breathe through his nose with his sinuses feeling like they were filled with cement in his sleep. His dry throat hurt when he attempted to swallow and it hurt even more to cough. Despite his best wishes, he was sick.

Shivering and shaking, Anon retreated under the warmth of his bed and clutched the sheets closer. He instantly decided he wasn’t going into work today, and so wished for at least a couple of extra minutes in bed. With several painful coughs, he was subjected to the alarm clock next to his bed continue to buzz its shrill morning alarm until he began to lose track of time. Had he suffered it for only a minute? Five minutes? Fifteen? 

Deciding not to allow its alarm to burn itself permanently into his mind, he begrudgingly forced an arm out from the warmth of his blanket to silence his electronic torturer. There was a sharp pain behind his eyes as he forced them open to check the time on the clock. 6:47, it read. It had only been two minutes since the alarm went off, far from the eternity it had felt like.

With an audible growl from his stomach, Anon knew his body would force him out of bed soon. One step at a time, he thought to himself as he threw the warmth of his comforter off and sat up at the edge of his bed.

Anon felt his stomach lurch as he prepared to stand, knowing he would need to dash for the bathroom the moment he did. Lucky for him, his was the one bedroom in the house with an attached bathroom – the privacy of which being a small but valued perk of being the only man in a house of three. Right now more than anything, however, he valued its proximity for the inevitable.

With a wretch as he stood on two wobbly feet, Anon momentarily attempted to balance before a wave of nausea washed over him. Holding a hand over his mouth in a vain attempt to hold his stomach down, he rushed for his bathroom and forced the door open without a care how much noise he was making. Nearly slipping on the tiled floor, Anon dropped to his knees in front of the toilet and braced as the involuntary heaving began.

“Not him too!” A muffled voice whined, clearly hearing Anon suffer from the other room. The voice belonged to his housemate Lauren by the sound of it, and it seemed like he wasn’t the only one who felt like death this morning.

Finished evacuating the remnants of last night's dinner into the bowl, Anon coughed and sputtered his way through the dry heaving while cursing to whoever managed to get him sick. As tempting as it was to simply collapse on the soothingly cool tile flooring, he gripped the edge of his sink and forced himself once more to his feet. Wiping the spittle from his mouth, he briefly studied himself in the mirror. For as bad as he felt, he looked even worse with red circles around his eyes and his long reddish-brown hair now unpleasantly slick and greasy.

Returning to his bedroom, Anon grabbed the corner of his comforter from his bed and wrapped it around himself for warmth. Stepping towards the door, his shaking hand rested on the doorknob as he briefly considered simply remaining in his room for the rest of the day before deciding against doing so. He opened the door, feeling a wave of cool air wash over him.

The hallway outside of his door felt several degrees cooler than in his bedroom, with what little air he could breathe through his air seeming much fresher. Across the hall, a cursory peek through Morgan’s open door revealed no chimera to be found in the dark bedroom. It was unusual on a normal day for Morgan to wake up before him, but Lauren’s outburst gave him a clue to where she might have gone.

Anon followed the sound of rummaging as he made his way to the kitchen, passing Lauren’s similarly-empty bedroom on the way. He watched a pajama-clad lynx emerge from the kitchen as he continued his slow march, freezing with her eyes locked on him as he stopped at the end of the hall.

“You stay away from me!” Lauren shouted while pointing a clawed finger towards Anon, her voice muffled by an awkward muzzle-shaped surgical mask stretched over her face. “I don't know where you two got it from but you aren't giving it to me!”

The normally calm and orderly lynx had a frantic look in her eyes as Anon raised his hands in mock surrender, shivering as the act let cold air draft in underneath his impromptu robe. Lauren already possessed a commanding matriarchal presence on a normal day, but now her germophobic tendencies made her downright frightening. Rather than provoking her wrath further, Anon simply remained silent.

“I’m sorry you two aren’t feeling well but I really don’t want to catch any of your germs.” She pointed to Anon a second time for emphasis, giving him a wide berth as she circled around him towards her bedroom. “Morgan said she can take care of anything you need, so don’t come get me unless you really, really need to be driven to the emergency room.”

Lauren quickly darted down the hallway from where Anon just came and rushed into her own bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her before he could get a single word in. Rolling his eyes at the various mutterings of “yuck” and “eww” from behind the closed door, the human continued his slow waddle to the living room. While the nausea from before had subsided, his head still swirled and ached with each step requiring a conscious effort to stay balanced upright.

Upon reaching his destination, he noticed one of the two couches was currently occupied by a small mound of pink and blue blankets. Only a slender white tail poking out from the end of the pile gave a clue as to what lied beneath, solving the minor mystery of Morgan’s empty room. Anon decided to lay on the second, unoccupied couch across from her.

As Anon slowly began to sit down, he watched as a pair of large white ears emerged from within the makeshift cocoon on the opposite couch. The owner of said ears soon followed, revealing his second housemate Morgan from underneath. The patchwork chimera rolled over on the couch to face him.

“Good morning.” Morgan yawned with a raspiness in her voice. “How are you feeling?”

Anon glanced over to the poor thing huddled on the other couch, shivering and hugging herself for warmth but seeming to be much less miserable than he felt. Morgan looked rather snug dressed in a plush and fuzzy pink bathrobe which felt more like something Lauren would wear. It very likely was, knowing how often Lauren tended to donate to Morgan’s sparse wardrobe.

Her usual brilliant blue eyes seemed dulled by the sickness the two shared, with her white coat matted in spots and dark hair seeming to have lost its glossy sheen. Not even the sight of her glasses sitting at an adorably crooked angle on her muzzle offered Anon much respite from his misery, and all he could manage was a pained and only minimally exaggerated groan.

“Poor Anon...” He received in return.

Simultaneously shivering and sweating, Anon wrapped his cover tighter around himself in an attempt to get comfortable on the couch. Between his aching head, the half-growl and half-gurgle of his empty stomach, and his painfully sore throat, he found it impossible to rest in any position he could find. 

“I hate being sick.” He groaned, coughing and immediately recoiling from the pain, “It sucks and it’s a waste of time.”

Insightful as ever, he thought.

“At least we get to stay home from work today…” Morgan murmured, reminding Anon that he still needed to call off of work. She did at least have a point, he always enjoyed spending time with her even in this abysmal state he was in. Anon glanced over to her couch, to see the chimera still staring back at him.

“Do you want me to make breakfast?” She groaned as she sat up before he could answer, shedding the mound of blankets to the floor with little grace.

“You don’t have to.” He replied. He knew she was just being helpful, but he didn’t want her to have to do everything for him today. “I can-”

Anon froze as he began to feel a nauseous sensation in the top of his stomach, instantly knowing what it meant. Morgan noticed his quick change in demeanor, now sporting a sudden look of concern on her face.

“Anon?” Morgan gently asked, “Are you okay?”

Without hesitation, Anon sprang up from the couch and stormed down the hallway, nearly slipping as he passed Lauren’s still-closed bedroom door. He bounced off of the frame of his own door to make a hard turn towards his bathroom as he prepared to suffer once more.

…

Anon’s head felt significantly lighter as he returned to the living room. After vomiting what little remained in his stomach for the second time in less than an hour, he elected to take a hot shower in order to clear his head followed by a successful phone call to take a sick day off of work. Now dressed in a plain t-shirt and sweatpants, Anon sat in his place of honor on the living room couch across from Morgan.

“You look a lot b-better.” Morgan smiled, her voice still sounding as nasally and raspy as before.

“A bit.” Anon replied, massaging his forehead lightly. “I still feel pretty blehh.”

Morgan giggled slightly at his melodrama as she leaned in closer, as if studying his flushed features.

“D-do you mind if I…?” Morgan asked with an outstretched hand. Anon nodded, not quite sure what she had in mind. Moving closer, she gently placed the back of her furred hand to Anon’s forehead in an attempt to feel his temperature. A part of him felt glad that he couldn’t possibly blush any harder than his illness was already making him.

“Ooh, you're hot...” His eyes widened with realization as she jolted back, feeling his fevered face burn even hotter with embarrassment. “F-fever! I mean! L-let me get a thermometer…”

Morgan scurried towards the kitchen before Anon could speak a word, and he groaned as he mentally berated himself. Was it really just a slip of the tongue or did she actually think…?

He hated being so socially inept that he could barely tell the difference.

The chimera returned with a small plastic thermometer in hand, no doubt from Lauren's personal stash of medical supplies. Wanting to avoid another awkward moment with her, Anon plucked the instrument from her hand and placed it in his own mouth for it to get an accurate reading. After a few moments, he removed it and held it up for Morgan to inspect.

“You definitely have a fever…” She read. “Poor Anon.”

He found himself unable to form a response out of nervousness or embarrassment, instead forcing out a simple “Y-yeah.”

“L-let me get something for that.” She stood and disappeared from view once more.

While Morgan retrieved whatever it was she was looking for, Anon engrossed himself in the movie trailer currently playing on the TV, seeming to feature some manner of anthro cyborg along with her human companion. He watched as it flickered from action scene to action scene while seeming to hint at a romantic relationship between the two, ending in a release date towards the end of the month.

Odd, but it might be something to take Morgan to when the two of them felt better.

“H-here.” Morgan stuttered slightly, holding an ice pack and a cup of cold medicine for Anon. “This should help a bit.”

“Thanks, Morgo.” Anon half-consciously babbled as he accepted the plastic cup from her hand. Downing the syrupy liquid in a single gulp and shuddering at its vile taste, he noticed Morgan was still watching him with an inscrutable expression on her face.

“Morgo.” The chimera slowly repeated, as if sounding out a word for the first time. Only after did Anon’s brain register the unintended nickname he had given her.

“I, um-” He sheepishly cut himself off before saying anything else foolish. “Morgan. Sorry.”

“It’s silly.” She smiled softly, retrieving the empty medicine cup. “I don’t mind it…”

As Morgan darted away back to the kitchen to return the medicine cup, Anon could hear her labored panting sounding like she had just come back from a marathon. He felt worried, but also partly guilty that she was putting his needs over her own.

“Morgan, slow down.” He stated, perhaps a bit more firmly than intended. “You’ve been running around all morning when you’re sick too.”

“I just…” She trailed off as if searching for the right words. “W-want to take care of you. I mean, everything you n-need.”

Returning to the living room, Morgan stood by Anon’s couch while holding her hands together in a ball.

“I just don’t like seeing you this way, I w-want you to feel better…” She continued, averting her eyes to the floor.

“It is nice having my own nurse.” Anon jested, pausing to cough and clear his scratchy throat. “I just want her to feel better too instead of seeing you pass out on the floor.”

The mental image briefly crossed Anon’s mind of Morgan wearing one of those scandalous Halloween nurse costumes, which he immediately banished out of guilt as she entered the living room. Rather than her own couch as before, Morgan elected to sit on the opposite end of Anon’s, almost immediately letting out a yawn upon doing so as she leaned against the furniture’s arm.

“I guess I didn’t realize how tired I really was.” She said, trying to suppress a second yawn as she made herself more comfortable.

“Told you.” Anon smiled and closed his eyes as he balanced the ice pack on his forehead, earning a slight giggle from Morgan. He could listen to that sound every single day.

“I wanna go skateboarding.” Morgan muttered into her sleeve. “When we feel better.”

“You go skateboarding all the time.” He answered plainly, steadying the ice pack as it nearly fell off of his head.

“No, like…” She cut herself off with a short snicker, “W-we should go. I want to teach y-you tricks. Like I said before…”

When she gifted him the skateboard for Christmas. Of course. Right now that felt like years ago.

“Yeah, that sounds like…” Anon paused, almost saying something else he would regret. “Like fun.”

“Yeah…” The tired chimera’s response trailed off.

Anon suddenly felt very warm as he found himself brought back to consciousness, eyes fluttering open while unaware he had fallen asleep in the first place. The ice pack on his head was now gone, and whatever he had feverishly dreamt about felt frustratingly out of reach as it slipped from his memory. As he attempted to sit up, he felt weighed down by more than just his blankets before realizing why he felt so warm in the first place.

Morgan.

Was cuddling.

With him.

While calling it cuddling may have been a stretch, Anon’s contagious companion was sitting dangerously close next to him on the sofa, glasses missing and pointed muzzle currently nestled atop his shoulder. Her soft snoring was occasionally interrupted by small fits of coughing that did little to reduce how utterly adorable the chimera looked with her upturned nose and splayed whiskers.

Even in this fatigued state, the intrusive thoughts reminded him of how much he badly wanted to kiss her and just how easy it would be with her sleeping this close to him. 

But if he did and she woke up…

Anon frowned and resigned himself to his slumbering position. As tempting as the thought might be, this was the closest he had ever been with her and he didn’t want to compromise it. Sure, Morgan may have given him a quick hug here and there or sat close to him before but she had never been this close. Fever or not, he had never felt just how warm she was before.

He sighed. He was hopelessly in love with Morgan, as one-sided as it most likely was. Part of him so desperately wished he could have this every single day with her, maybe he wouldn’t feel so touch starved to elicit this sort of reaction in the first place.

His introspection was interrupted when his body forced out an involuntary yawn, which he did his best to keep quiet as to not awake the sleeping chimera. The combination of the heavy blanket and the warmth of Morgan’s body heat made for a pleasant and rather cozy experience; one he was rapidly succumbing to in spite of his desire to continue the impromptu cuddling for as long as possible.

She just felt so nice and warm.

…

Anon’s eyes flickered open once more and he felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, both physically and mentally. He yawned, realizing that he must have failed in staying awake after all. The mental fog surrounding his brain was gone but he frowned slightly and sighed when he realized that Morgan was too. She had only unconsciously cuddled with him, of course, if it could even be called cuddling. She simply fell asleep on the couch at the same time as him, no need to draw unnecessary conclusions.

He wiped his right cheek of something cold and wet as he sat up, realizing she must have poked his face in her sleep with her wet canine nose. He couldn’t help but smile briefly at the mental image that brought. Cute.

“H-hey, Anon.” Morgan called from within the kitchen, where she was stirring something on the stove. “Did you sleep well?”

“I think sleeping helped, I feel so much better than before.” Anon stretched his arms, noticing the return of his sense of smell now that his sinuses were clear. “What smells so good?”

“Oh! I-I made a can of chicken noodle soup to help you feel better…” She replied. Cooking was normally Lauren’s favored job, it wasn’t often Morgan made anything that wasn’t microwaveable. “A-are you hungry?”

“I’m starving.” Anon’s stomach took the perfect opportunity to growl, whether out of hunger or sickness. “That sounds great.”

Anon stood up from the couch for the first time in hours, stretching his legs and feeling various joints crack from inactivity. Gone was the sense of nausea from before, while the sore throat still remained. He watched the chimera pour a small bowl for him out of the pot as he slowly stepped towards the kitchen table.

Thanking Morgan as she placed the bowl on the table in front of Anon, he knew what he really wanted to ask her. She called him hot earlier, he knew it even if she did shyly deflect from it. If she really felt the same way that he did about her, all he had to do was ask. He could do it this time, he knew it.

“So, I was thinking about…” Anon muttered before sipping a spoonful of soup. Morgan’s large ears perked upwards as she swiftly turned her attention to him. “About something you said earlier.”

“Y-yeah, Anon?” Morgan replied rather quickly. His eyes met hers for a brief moment as he felt that familiar sensation within his chest, averting his eyes down to his soup as he took a breath.

He took another glance at Morgan’s eyes and felt an even more familiar sense of panic. He couldn’t do it, yet again.

“…Did, uh…” He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. He had to think of something, quickly. “You still want to go skateboarding when we feel better?”

“Oh.” She replied, as he watched her ears deflate and her smile falter ever so slightly. “I-is that really what you wanted to ask?”

He nodded, less confident than before. He felt so awkward now.

“I- Yeah, definitely.” Morgan nodded, “That sounds like fun.”

Although it wasn’t the first thing he wanted to ask, Anon wasn’t sure why she would be disappointed when it was her own suggestion. Did she change her mind and not want to? Was she expecting him to ask something else?

Did she have the same original question in mind that he did?

“I-I think I’m going to t-turn in.” Morgan let out a yawn, but Anon couldn’t tell if it was genuine. “Goodnight, Anon. I’m… glad you’re feeling better…”

As Morgan rounded the corner to the hallway, she spared one last look to Anon with a small smile that made his heart sink. Whatever it was that the chimera really wanted, he clearly fumbled it.

Anon frowned, sighing as he stared down to his rapidly cooling bowl of soup. Deciding he needed to make it up to her somehow, the sound of an opening door grabbed his attention. Glancing down the hallway in the hope that Morgan had changed her mind, he instead spotted Lauren emerging from her bedroom instead of the chimera he had hoped to see. Anon nevertheless gave her a small wave, noticing that she no longer wore the mask she had that morning.

“We’re both feeling a lot better.” Anon explained to the approaching lynx. He always found it much easier to talk to Lauren unprompted. “I think it’s mostly gone away.”

Lauren opened her mouth to respond but suddenly froze in place while making a very funny face. Anon felt a momentary concern when she began to reel over with a look of discomfort, before the worry evaporated when the lynx simply let out a curt, feminine sneeze. 

Her reaction was a mix of shock and fear, as if she were physically wounded by the act. Lauren wordlessly turned around and immediately rushed back to her bedroom, slamming the door with a muffled growl of frustration and leaving Anon alone in the kitchen once more.

Anon cursed to himself, grumbling wishes for a third hand as he attempted to juggle the various bags of groceries in his arms. Propping the front door of the house open with the tip of his shoe, he quickly maneuvered inside before nudging it shut behind him. Abiding by another one of Lauren’s house rules, he promptly kicked his shoes off next to the pair of red Converses belonging to a certain chimera before stepping forward into the kitchen.  

Placing the bags of groceries on the counter while telling himself that they would be put away later, he retrieved a rapidly perspiring cup from its cardboard holder and turned his attention to the living room. The couch where Morgan laid the other day now had a new occupant, one significantly less thrilled about her predicament than even they had been.

Under an even larger pile of blankets than before, Lauren simply glared at him with narrowed eyes that seemed to say this is all your fault.

“I made sure to get the immune boost, just like you wanted.” Anon delivered the smoothie Lauren had requested to her outstretched hands. Although he would never admit it out loud and certainly felt bad for how miserable Lauren appeared, a childish part of his brain found some small amount of satisfaction in the lynx now sharing in what he and Morgan experienced for how aggressively avoidant she had been.

“Thank you…” Lauren weakly rasped, beginning to sip on the soothing beverage.

“Let me know if you need anything else today.” Anon replied, waiting for a nod from the lynx before returning to the kitchen. Stopping to stealthily retrieve another item from the surrounding groceries, he inspected it briefly before holding it behind his back and beginning to walk towards his destination. Morgan’s bedroom door was open and her light turned on which was good, Anon always found knocking on her closed door to be a nerve-wracking experience.

Stopping at the door, Anon glanced around Morgan’s bedroom which always felt much more homely and lived in than his own. From the various band and video game posters on the wall, to a strange electronic guitar shaped more like a stealth fighter in the corner, to the bookshelf against the wall filled with numerous books, action figures, or other knickknacks the chimera had accumulated.

Morgan didn’t seem to notice his presence as he silently watched her sit at her desk, idly running a brush through her dark onyx hair as she stared out the window. She continued to brush before it became stuck on a knot in her hair, inelegantly tugging the brush several times with a small growl of frustration until it gave way.

She was so perfect in her own, Morgan-like way.

Suddenly feeling more like a voyeur than a visitor, Anon lightly rapped his hand on the frame of Morgan’s door to alert the chimera to his presence. She quickly spun around on the chair to face him, dropping the brush somewhere in the process as she hopped to her feet.

“Oh, h-hey, Anon!” Morgan exclaimed with a small grin, straightening her glasses on her muzzle, “What’s up?”

“About the other day…” He felt a brief sense of panic when he began, not thinking through what he was actually going to say to Morgan. He didn’t want to make it awkward like he had before. She turned her head slightly to the side in curiosity before he continued.

“I just wanted to say, you know.” Anon scratched his neck out of nervousness, being mindful to keep the box out of view. “Thanks for taking care of me when I was that sick.”

“Oh! It was nothing, Anon…” Morgan bashfully replied with another smile. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better now.”

“Well, I didn’t think it was nothing. I, um…” Anon pulled out the small gift and held it in both hands for Morgan to see. “I wanted to get you something. You know, as a thank you.”

Morgan’s eyes lit up at the sight of the small box, quickly snatching it from Anon’s hands before holding it up to the sunlight for inspection. Its contents stared back at her, a short red toy robot wearing a stern expression on its face.

"Wow! I don't have a Cliffjumper yet!" She exclaimed with a small hop, vindicating Anon’s strategy of thinking the red one looked cool on the store shelf. He watched with satisfaction as she turned the box over, eagerly reading the various statistics and information printed across its surface.

Deciding she knew enough, Morgan excitedly tore at the cardboard packaging to reach the treasure inside, with scraps of paper and plastic ties falling to her feet that Anon questioned would be cleaned up any time soon. Throwing the box aside, she brought the robot closer to herself, rotating its arms and knees into various poses. Anon couldn’t help but smile at the childlike joy it seemed to bring the chimera, something that caught her eye as she beamed a smile back.

Figure still in hand, she quickly wrapped her arms around Anon’s torso and squeezed him in a small hug. Anon felt a twinge of disappointment when the chimera pulled away before he could hug her in return. Morgan gave another small smile as she averted her eyes to the floor, her reptilian tail wagging gently.

“Thank you, Anon,” she began, her eyes meeting his for an instant before she glanced to the figure in her hands. “It really means a lot.”

“Well, thanks for taking good care of me. Morgo.” Anon replied with another smile of his own, earning a short snicker from the chimera.

An awkward silence fell as Anon watched her pivot and scurry away towards the bookshelf on the opposite side of her bedroom, where she placed her new action figure next to an almost identical yellow-colored toy. His gaze lingered on the chimera as she fiddled with the toy, angling its arms and legs into a dynamic action pose to match its counterpart.

“So…” He began. He had to say something. “What makes the red one so cool?”

“You… really want to know?” Morgan’s brief look of astonishment turned ecstatic when Anon nodded an affirmative. While he shared little of her interest in action figures or plastic models, perhaps she could change that.

As Morgan began to regale him with the intricacies of toy designs and the differences between nearly identical characters, Anon couldn’t help but simply gaze and smile at the chimera. This was the second time now that Anon shared a moment with her after delivering a gift to her bedroom, this time in much better spirits than before. Keep this up and Morgan might start getting the wrong idea.

Then again, Anon thought to himself, maybe the wrong idea doesn’t sound so bad.