He's sick

14.2K 72 1
                                    

Liam: You creak the door open, letting a strip of light stream its way into the room. You balance a tray of soup and crackers as you maneuver through the door. "Li?" you whisper softly, walking up to the bed where your poor baby lies, sick as a dog. "Oh, hi (Y/N)." Liam says, his stuffed nose and sore throat making his voice sound miserable. "I brought you some soup." you say sweetly as you set the tray on the bed. Liam sits up a tad and turns on the bedside lamp. You nearly gasp. His complexion is pale and his normally bright eyes are dark and full of fatigue. "Oh Liam..." you murmur, placing your hand lightly on his warm cheek. "Here, eat." You take the bowl of hot soup into your hands and begin spooning little servings of it into his mouth. "You really don't have to do this, sweetie." he croaks out in-between sips. You shake your head slowly and grin. Leave it to Liam to worry about everyone else when he's running a fever.

Louis: There's frantic whispering outside of your hotel room as you flip mindlessly through the channels on television, waiting for Louis to return from his concert. Suddenly the door is flung open and Louis is silently ushered into the room, his face covered by a hood and his face twisted in pain. "What happened?" you demand as your heart drops and you rush over to him. Paul shrugs. "He started getting this funny look in the last 20 minutes of the show. As soon as he got off the stage, he just kept saying "(Y/N). I need (Y/N)."" As Paul continues, Louis slumps against the wall. "Oh god." you whisper, "It's one of his migraines. I'll take care of it. Thanks Paul." Paul smiles weakly before leaving you and Louis alone. You help Louis change into some pajamas and get him tucked into bed. "Here," you murmur, placing a glass of water and some aspirin on the nightstand, "take these as soon as you feel like it." For the first time since he got back, Louis cracks a smile. "You sure do know how to take care of me, (Y/N)." he rasps out. "I love you."

Harry: As the crickets chirp outside, you roll over in bed to get closer to the snoozing Harry. He's sleeping on his back, his lips parted and his bare chest rising and lowering as he breathes deeply. You curl into his toned shoulder and place a hand on his warm chest. You immediately recoil. His chest is clammy, scorching, and soaked with sweat. You place a hand on his forehead worryingly just as he starts to come around. "(Y/N)..." he murmurs, furrowing his brow as he looks around, "Oh...I don't feel good..." You sigh. He's absolutely burning up. "I know babe." you murmur, "I'll be right back with some medicine and a cool rag, okay?" You spend the remainder of the night at Harry's side, coaxing him to take his medicine and eventually luring him back to sleep.

Zayn: It was nearly impossible for you to get any sleep, what with Zayn's raucous snoring all through the night. But you couldn't blame him-he had been bedridden with the flu for days. And as much as you wanted to scurry away and go sleep on the couch, you couldn't bring yourself to leave Zayn's side. So you sit up in the wee hours of the night, a novel in your lap and a cup of tea on your nightstand, monitoring Zayn. As you turn the page in your novel and sip your tea, you look over at your sleeping boyfriend. As if on cue, he coughs hoarsely, enough to rouse him for a brief second. He lifts his head in dazed confusion before stretching out to you and locking his hands around your arm. He sets his head on your thigh and is asleep once again in seconds. You silently giggle to yourself as you watch Zayn curl up with you like a little puppy.

Niall: "Nialll! Dinner's ready!" you call out from the kitchen, tossing the last of the baby tomatoes into the salad. You bring the last of the food out onto the large dining room table and take your seat. You knew Niall was home-you had seen him come in earlier-yet he wasn't downstairs. Usually he was at the table even before you were, so his absence struck you as very, very odd. A sudden hoarse, throaty cough from down the hall sends you out of your chair. You follow the source of the cough to find Niall sprawled out on the floor in front of the toilet, his head resting on the lid. "Niall!" you cry, kneeling down beside him. "What's wrong? Did you eat something bad?" He gurgles before getting sick in the toilet again, right in front of you. You rub his back until he finishes and flushes. "Come on babe," you say, taking his hand and helping him stagger out of the bathroom, "let's get you into bed. I'll bring a trash can." "Bu...but you made me dinner..." he mumbles, craning his head towards the dining room. You push him to the bedroom. "Niall," you sigh, "for once... forget about the food."

<3 1D preferences <3Where stories live. Discover now