Kissy |HS|

Ch.3

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I woke up the sound of our buzzer, mentally cursing at whoever felt the need to visit. I looked over at my night stand, a tray with a bowl of soup and a mug on it. Next to it my phone, Advil and a note. I stood up, stumbling slightly as that nauseating feeling came back. I walked out of my room, using the walls for support, and made my way to the door, looking through the peephole of the door I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. I opened the door, standing up as still and straight as possible.

"I thought Avery called you?" I said, my voice croaking as I spoke.

"Mmm yeah, she did. But I figured I could bring you some things. Since you weren't feeling well." He pressed his lips together, a small sweet smile making its way to his face as he held up a bag and some flowers.

"I don't know, Harry. Do you think you cou- could maybe stop b-" before I could finish, I felt the vomit coming back up again. I turned and rushed to the bathroom, lifting the toilet seat once again and emptying out whatever it was ejecting from my stomach.

I couldn't help how weak my immune system and body itself became, my eyes could only close and my head felt as though there was a huge weight attached to it. I laid down on the cold tile floor, mumbling incoherently as my brain fogged up.

After a couple of seconds, I was out once again.
                                ____

HARRYS POV

I waited at the open door, feeling absolutely terrible that 'Oprah' had gotten sick, and on the most inconvenient day too! Listening to her vomit wasn't necessarily the dream date everyone looks forward too.

Eventually I couldn't help but walk into the apartment, curiosity and worry pulling me into what could be bad or good. I set the flowers and the bag down onto the nearest table then walked down the hall I watched her disappear into.

"Hello?" I say drawing out the 'O' at the end. Small grunts had sounded from the nearest room on the left; I followed the noises and walked into the room. For a minute, I got caught up in observing how the room was decorated. It was a grayish blue color, and there were two windows, one next to the bed and the other a little further on a separate wall. Multiple lamps and pictures decorated the room, and a few posters of B.B. King hung up. I smiled, until a groan pulled me out of my thoughts. My attention quickly snapped to the bathroom. There, her body lay almost still on the floor, her chest rising and falling lightly. She was asleep. I kneeled down and scooped my hands under her body, pulling her to my chest and lifting her up off the floor. Once I did, her arms immediately snaked around my neck and her head rested in the crook of my neck.

I moved my face sideways slightly, cringing at her breath. As careful, and quickly, as I could, I brought her to her bed and laid her down, detaching her arms from me and standing up. I looked over at the tray beside her bed and furrowed my eyebrows. Picking up the spoon, I stirred the soup and brought it up. It had sat out so long that it condensed, and the tea was just cold.

I picked up the tray and walked out of the room, and brought it to the kitchen. Setting the bowl and mug in the sink, I put the tray off to the side and grabbed the bag I had come in with. In the bag, I had beef and vegetable broth, garlic bread, peaches, broccoli and oatmeal; and a couple seasonings. If I couldn't charm her at dinner tonight I was going to charm her with dinner.