ᶠÚᵗᵇᵒˡ Oɴᴇsʜᴏᴛs ⎳⎳

Making it work (Jude x Haaland)

He fell back, failing to gain balance of his body. Too weak to retry, he slouched against the lower cupboard doors and soon fell asleep when his body couldn't withstand the pain of crying so much anymore.

Thinking he'd wake up the next morning just fine, instead, when he did wake up, he was met with the eyes of a few of his teammates looking down at him, his head starting to throb in pain, his surroundings far from what he could remember his apartment complex's interior being.

Attempting to sit up, Phil gave him a hand, as he felt too weak to push himself up.

He had so many questions inside his head, but the first one to leave his mouth is:

- "Where am i?"

Haaland queried, his eyes wandering around the big room, landing on the little boxes of chocolate his team mates had probably brought for him.

- "In the hospital."

Phil answered, not very happy to have answered that. Haaland frowned, not exactly realizing why or how he'd end up here. He can't recall to encountering any accident or getting himself injured in any way.

- "But why?"

- "How should I put this up.." Phil answered, sighing.

- "Well..you basically cried a shitton, which resulted to dehydration, and that's why you didn't wake up until you had completed around 37 hours of sleep. We eventually broke through your apartment door because there's no way you wouldn't inform us if you wouldn't come to training. And then we found you lying on the kitchen floor. We were so glad you we're dead, we were terrified."

Phil explained, looking at Haaland sympathetically. Everything made sense.

Haaland just nodded, snuggling comfortably into his loose hospital outfit. Kevin walked into the room with a glass of water and a pill in his hands, with an equally as worried look, his lips pressed to a thin line.

But that changed to a small smile as he approached Haaland, helping him up a bit.

- "How are you feeling?"

Haaland swallowed the pill down with a gulp of water, not very happy with the slightly cold water crashing down his temporarily damaged throat, slightly scrunching his nose as a result.

- "Not too good."

- "Expected. Well, you'll be eating soon since you've taken the pill. A few of these should help you get back up on your legs."

Haaland just nodded. He couldn't use his voice much, unless it'd be needed to answer with a combination of short words.

Everyone could notice the change in the Norwegian. His eyes didn't glisten like they always did, he couldn't look anyone in the eyes and talk, his words were dry and the sadness from his eyes were very visible.

Kevin pat him on the shoulder, ruffling his hair.

- "Don't pressure yourself, bud. You can tell us when you feel better. For now, focus on what you have in hand. You can't afford to loose anything anymore, Erling."

- "Do my mom and dad know?"

He avoided the motivation, slightly surprising Kevin. Nonetheless, he still replied.

- "We let them know and that you'll be fine by tomorrow so that they're not worried sick about you, don't worry."

Then another question rested on his tongue, but he feared to ask it. Nonetheless, he decided to take the risk, because he couldn't refrain himself from doing so either way.

- "Does Jude know?"

He asked with interest but also a tad bit nervous and anxious of their answer.

Haaland's question caught Phil's attention. He immediately switched to instagram and went to the chat between him and Jude, passing his phone to Haaland for him to see juat how sick Jude had become out of worry.