Larry Stylinson

Harry: sick at home

Aww what a cutie. Anyways, here's the next request.

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Louis p.o.v.

"Everybody wanna steal my girl, everybody wanna take her heart away," I sang to myself.

I had just finished recording my parts in Steal My Girl and was currently driving home.

I bit my lip and pushed on the accelerator a little harder, because I was anxious to get home.

My phone had gone off a few times while I was recording, and by the time I got done, my phone had died, so I could check the messages. For some reason, I just had this bad feeling that something was wrong with Harry.

Finally I pulled into Harry and I's driveway and quickly parked the car. I stepped out, locked it, and headed inside.

I pushed open the door, after unlocking it, and stepped inside. The house was dark and quiet.

"Harry?" I called, my heart pounding. What if something had happened to him?

"Mmmm," I heard a moan of pain from the hallway.

I rushed toward the noise and saw the bathroom door closed, with light shining through beneath it.

"Haz you okay?" I asked, knocking on the door.

"No," came the broken reply.

"Can I come in?" I asked, my hand already on the knob.

"Please," he said so quietly I barely heard him.

I opened the door and my heart broke at the sight before me. Harry was kneeling down in front of the toilet (which was full of puke), crying.

"Oh sweetie," I gasped, sitting down beside him. I simultaneously flushed the toilet and pulled his shaking frame to my chest, holding him tight.

"I don't feel good Lou," he whined.

"Was it you that texted me?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

He nodded against me tiredly, confirming my suspicions. I held him for a few more minutes.

"Let's go to bed love," I said after a while, looping my arm around his waist to help him stand.

After practically dragging him to our bedroom, he flopped down, immediately curling into a ball.

"Wake me up if you need anything," I whispered, kissing his forehead as I laid down next to him.

"Love you," he mumbled, slurring his words.

"Love you too," I whispered back, carding my fingers through his hair as he laid his head on my shoulder. One hand gripping his stomach, the other fisted in my t-shirt.

Poor Harry.

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Sorry it's short im in class.