Larry Stylinson

Harry: sick day

Okay so I think this is the best request I've gotten and I'm really excited to write it. So this ones going to be long. Oh and the picture isn't mine. Creds to whoever wrote that fic.

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Harrys p.o.v.

"Beep beep beep beep," the alarm woke me up with its annoying beeping.

I groaned as a pounding ache suddenly appeared behind my eyes. I felt Louis stirring beside me as I pushed myself into a sitting position.

Whoa! The room spun for a second, making my stomach feel queasy. I placed one hand on my tummy to calm it down.

"You okay?" Louis asked, concerned.

I opened my eyes, having been unaware that I'd closed them and turned to look at him.

"I don't know, I'm not feeling that great," I admitted, knowing it was pointless to hide it from Louis.

"You do look kind of pale," he pointed out, then reached up and placed his hand on my forehead.

"I'll be okay," I said, to assure both him and myself.

"I don't know harry, i think you have a fever, so you should probably stay home," he said, rubbing my back.

"Yeah you're probably right," I sighed.

"I'll go get us some breakfast, and you call in sick," he said, smiling softly as he slid off of the bed.

I reached over and grabbed my phone off the night stand. Then I scrolled through my contacts until I found Management.

"Hello?" Jake answered.

"Hi Jake, it's Harry, so I'm running a fever and I feel like I'm about to throw up, so can I take a sick day?" I asked, exaggerating a bit to get my way.

"No Harry we have things to do today," Jake snapped.

"This is for real Jake I feel like crap," I said, refraining from using some stronger words.

"No Harry," he said firmly, and with that he hung up.

I sighed. Guess I'm not taking a sick day. I slowly pushed myself off the bed, not wanting to upset my head or my stomach any further, then walked over to my closet.

Normally, I would wear skinny jeans and a t-shirt, but I'm sick, so the wardrobe is changing. I stepped into a pair of white basketball shorts, then pulled on an oversized grey hoodie.

I slipped my hand into the hoodie pocket, resting it on my stomach. Man, I really don't feel that good.

With one final complaint to myself, I trudged down the hallway to our kitchen, where Louis was making us bagels.

"You're dressed," he pointed out, frowning.

"Jake said I still have to come in," I explained.

"Fuck him," Louis scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Then he walked across the room to where I was leaning up against the door frame. He studied for a moment.

"What?" I asked.

"You gonna be okay?" he answered my question with a question.

"I'll be okay Louis," I promised, though he didn't look like he believed me.

Pop! The bagels popped up out of the toaster. Louis walked back over to the counter, snatched them up, and started spreading butter on them.

"Here you go, I'm gonna get dressed," he said through a mouthful of bagel, setting mine down on the counter.