Live, Love, Lies

2.

Louis only continues to get worse, giving up on trying to work in favour of curling up into a ball of soft blankets and tissues.

His mum finds him like that, sweaty and pale as he shivers amongst his burrow of comfort. She coos sadly and strokes a soft hand over his damp forehead. Louis whimpers quietly while she strokes his hair and nuzzles into her touch, not registering what is really going on.

"Hey, baby," she murmurs quietly, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Louis doesn't reply. "I think we should get you to the hospital."

Her voice is soft, like it is when she has to deal with frightened subs, as she talks slowly to him about what's going to happen even if he can't understand her right now.

Subsickness presents with physical symptoms, but the main issue is the sub drop that initially causes with it. Sub drop's main cause is neglect from their dominant, however it can be due to a quick drop in emotions.

Louis blinks his eyes open slowly, squinting as the bright lights add to the throbbing in his head. He groans quietly, throat dry and scratchy as he tries to get past the dryness of his mouth.

Everything he can see without sitting up is white and bland, the needle in his elbow stinging the skin.

"Lou," a low, relieved voice says somewhere from his right. Harry comes into view as he shuffles forward, awkwardly standing over him. "I'm glad you're okay."
"Me too," Louis smiles sadly, scrubbing at his eyes. "How did you know?"
"Your Mum called. She found out we were matched from the nurse. Apparently we need to have a talk," Harry tells him.
"Yeah, we do."

Harry sighs, lifting a cautious hand to brush an eyelash from Louis' cheek. Louis' breath leaves him and he leans into the touch desperately. When Harry tenses Louis frowns apologetically.
"Sorry, you don't have to-"
"You want more?" Harry offers, hand back from where he'd lowered it to the bed, stroking his cheek softly.

Louis' breath is shaky as it fans out over Harry's fingers, a small whimper leaving him as Harry's other hand strokes his greasy hair.
"Please," Louis mewls, though he's not sure what he's asking for.

Harry, though, seems to understand as he shushes him gently and scratches lightly at his scalp.

The nurse smiles warmly when she arrives and sees that Louis is awake. Louis tenses slightly when he realises who she is.

He did work experience in this hospital. This is a sub only hospital.

The nurse, Jan, closes the door carefully behind her as she enters the room fully.
"I just need to check Louis' vitals, ask him some questions. Is that okay, Mr. Styles?" She asks.

Louis gulps, tears stinging the backs of his eyes. Harry's hands don't falter, still stroking over his skin soothingly, and he rests a palm over Louis' heart. What does this mean for Louis? What does this mean for them? What does this mean?

Harry clears his throat, nodding his head.
"Harry, call me Harry," he says politely. Usually he'd offer a hand to shake, but right now he can't imagine letting go of Louis. He squeezes the small boy's shoulder gently.

"How long have you been sick for?" Jan asks, pen ready to jot down his answers.
"Nearly two weeks."
"Why didn't you tell me? Louis, you should've called," Harry reprimands. Louis tries to pull himself away from Harry's hands, glaring up at the tall man. Harry hurries to still him, apologising repeatedly under his breath as he starts stroking his hair until Louis sighs and relaxes back against the bed.