Harry's Sick, Louis Doesn't Believe Him

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What was he supposed to do? He felt so bad. Just awful. He knew he would have to tell Louis. He made his way back to the bedroom. ''Louis," he said with a raspy voice. Louis didn't answer him. He tried again. "Louis, get up."

Louis moaned and pulled the sheet higher up his neck. ''What?" he growled.

''I'm sick. I don't feel good," Harry managed, hanging onto the bedpost.

Louis moaned. ''Whatever." Then he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and began making his way out of bed and into the bathroom where he shut the door. Harry just stood there, defeated and too sick to move. When the bathroom door opened again, Louis noticed Harry not doing anything.

''Why are you just standing there? We're going to be late," he said, letting the water rinse the soap off his hands.

"But, Louis-" Harry started.

''-I know you're not sick. Now get dressed." Louis ignored him and began getting ready himself.

Harry knew he wouldn't believe him. But he also knew that he didn't have much of a reason to considering how he'd been acting lately. He figured he would just have to trudge through the day and suck it up, unless he could convince Louis.

He went to his walk-in closet to pick out some clothes. The standing-around was making him too tired for his weak state, so he sat down in the middle of the floor.

Just as he did, Louis caught a glance as he walked by. ''Harry, you're not fooling me. Get your butt moving!" Then he went to his own closet to find something to wear. He slipped on a shirt and some pants and speedily went to the kitchen for a quick bowl of cereal. ''We're gonna be late, Harry! If you want to eat, you better take it with you!"

Food. Ugh. There was nothing in the world that Harry wanted least. The thought of it made his stomach churn. He pulled on his clothes and shoes and made his way over to Louis in the kitchen. ''Lou, I'm not faking this time. I feel really bad," he complained grumpily.

''We don't have time for this," Louis said, his arms across his chest. ''The others are supposed to be meeting us in like," he checked his watch, ''ten minutes. And they're all going to be mad if we're late." He was referring to management. ''You just want to get out of the interview again, I know it." He hastily took a few more huge bites of cereal and washed it down with the leftover milk in his bowl.

''No, Louis. That's not it," Harry tried to explain, but he was too weak to argue. All he wanted to do, no needed to do, was to lie down.

Louis put a hand up to stop him, shook his head, and walked to the front door of their hotel. That was enough for Harry to know he was done. Harry was hurt. His own boyfriend didn't believe him. The one person in the world that he thought would always have his back, and he wouldn't even look at him. What had he done? He never should have pretended to be sick all those times.

Harry got in the passenger seat with Louis at the wheel. It was a silent drive, the only noise coming from the music on the radio. Normally they sat and talked while they drove, but this time Louis had already put on the music, signifying to Harry that he didn't want to discuss it anymore. He could tell Louis was mad. His jaw was clenched, eyes kept on the road, and had a firm grip on the steering wheel. He was even wearing sunglasses on an overcast day.

Harry sat in his seat with his head resting on his hand, elbow propped up on the car door. He was feeling really sleepy and a little feverish. Before he knew it, they pulled up in the parking lot. They got out and entered the building, waiting for their turn to be interviewed. Niall and Liam were already there waiting for them, sitting comfortably on the couch.

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