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Chapter Twenty One - Got Me Sick

Chapter Twenty One – Got Me Sick

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Baby, you got me sick. I don’t know what I did.

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Victoria couldn’t stop laughing. She just couldn’t. She had promised she would. Because at this very moment, curled up in various parts of the flat, were One Direction, one hundred percent sick.

“I told you if you shared a drink, you’d get sick!” She said chuckling, as she helped Liam to bed. He was burning up and stubbornly refused that he was sick and attempted to go to the studio today to listen to help pick which songs, out of the ones they had recorded, would make it into the new album. Halfway there, he had to stop the car to be let out and vomit. Then the car turned back around straight away, much to his feeble protests.

Victoria had quickly become the boys’ nurse. They had kept her busy until lunch, getting pillows and blankets, running to the pharmacy for medicine, and helping them get things they didn’t have the strength to get up and grab. She had run so many glasses of water back and forth between the kitchen and their rooms, she was pretty sure she had made a slip and slide in the hall from where the water had sloshed over in her haste.

Poking his tongue out at her, only to get a mouthful of thermometer, he mumbled, “Ell oo innit aff doo thay hit.”

She rolled her eyes and pulled the thermometer out of his mouth to examine where the red line had landed. “A hundred point two.” She said, clucking her tongue and shaking her head. “Sorry, what did you say? I didn’t know you spoke gibberish.”

“I said,” Liam said, trying to sound irritated, but only sounding weak. “Well, you didn’t have to say it.”

“What that I was right?” Victoria asked. In response, to Liam’s nod, she couldn’t help but giggle. “I also told you that I would laugh very, very hard when you did get sick. And who are you to make a liar out of me.”

Liam attempted a huff, but it only came out as harsh cough, causing Victoria to furrow her brow in concern, until he pouted at her, “Thanks for rubbing it in, love.”

She burst out in laughter, “But what fun is being right if you can’t show it off?”

She sat on the side of his bed to rub his fuzzy head, and she immediately retracted when Liam winced in pain, “Oh god, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, Tori.” Liam smiled at her, but the smile dropped away at the frozen look on her face.

“Sorry, what?” She asked, “What did you call me?”

“Tori?” He asked, trying to joke, “You know, a nickname typically given to someone with the name Victoria. I mean, since you’re so against Vicky.”

She visibly tensed on the bed, and Liam looked at her concerned, and she said in a voice that was firmer than he expected to hear from her suddenly small form. “Why can’t you call me Vic?”

Wanting desperately for the sudden tension in the air to disappear, he quipped, “Then I won’t feel special. If everyone calls you Vic, I want to call you something different.”

Victoria stood up off the bed abruptly and made her way towards the door. Liam leaned forward, but fell back on his pillows when the room spun, “What did I say? Tori?”

That time she flinched, and she kept her back to him. “Nothing. You didn’t say anything. I hear the tea whistling.”

Liam frowned, “What are you talking about? There’s no tea.”