All good things

Chapter X

Uh-oh not again,

"Achoo, achoo,"

"Bless you," Says Liam

"Thanks," I reply.

My eyes are red, my throat and ears are itching like crazy and I have to keep rubbing my nose because it is irritating me so much, sometimes I wish I could just stick my head in a bucket of ice and just stay there for the rest of eternity.

But if you think I'm bad Harry's just the same, if not worse.

We have been like this since we first arrived in Seattle two days ago. That means two days of excruciating hayfever symptoms.

"ACHOO!" Harry screams for the gizillionth time this morning. "Hey where's my 'bless you'?"

"You don't get one because you are just being annoying with your sneezes!" Niall states, matter of factly.

"Here Harry you can have my bless you," I say writing it in the air then waffering it across the couch to him.

"No Matt he doesn't deserve it!" Says Lou grabbing at thin air.

"One more day and well be out of here," Zayn says. "Just gotta do this last concert!"

"But Harry can't go on like that!" Liam says, taking mine and Harry's temperatures.

"Well you can't just cancel!" I exclaim getting up and running cold water over my face in the kitchen sink. "Your fans will be gutted!" I dry my face and go sit back down by Lou again.

"Well we all agree if Harry's not in none of us are in?" Niall asks and we all nod. "Then it's settled, we're canceling. And they can just buy our CD instead!"

I really think it's a bad idea but there's no arguing with the Irish man once he's made up his mind.

"Maybe you could do a signing though," I say thoughtfully.

"Were?"

"I saw a Starbucks down the road, I love Starbucks."

"K, but we should call uncle Si," Says Liam snatching the phone out of Zayn's hands.

Simon -though not very happy- lets the cancellation go ahead but he said Harry is not allowed to attend the signing unless we make him look extra sick, which won't be very hard.

After my 'skillful' makeup application and some layers of clothes we are ready to bounce.

All the way to Starbucks, and after some tall latte's fans are queuing up out the door and as much as Harry hates it he sits in the background coughing and weezing like some old geezer.

"Cheer up Hazza, they'll understand." I say bringing over a espresso for him, his fourth espresso since we've been here, which is about an hour and a half.

"How about, when we get home, I'll make another dinner, and you can pick what it is!" I say, clutching at straws to try and cheer him up.

Harry gives the Starbucks menu a thoughtful look as if it has ideas, but Harry's expression gives me an idea.

"What day is it today?" I ask.

"Thursday, why?"

"It's Taco day!"

Harry looks at me suspiciously. "Is that a joke? Never joke about tacos."

"Honest! No joke! Back home, ever since I was seven, every Thursday would be taco night!" (True Story)

Harry's suspicion is replaced with excitement. "I love tacos!" He shouts.

"Shh! Keep it down, you'll disturb the fans!"