Rebel Rebel |harry styles| - ongoing

THIRTY-FOUR

Dodie: Absolutely Smitten

Essie

"Are you okay love?", I heard Harry call out from our bedroom.

"I have been throwing up since last night... I'm not okay, but I'll live.", we'd finally gotten over the 'every sneeze means you have Covid' thing, and now I caught some nasty stomach flu.

"Can I get you anything?", he offered.

"Take Bono out, please. And you can get me some Sprite and crackers on the way back.", his head popped through the door and the look on his face told me he wished he could be sick instead of me, "Thank you.".

If there was one thing in this world I hated, it was throwing up. Back when I was a child it was my worst fear, and it disgusted me so much that I perfected the art of drinking copious amounts of alcohol without throwing up during my teenage years. I dragged my limp body to the guest bathroom because it was the only one with a tub instead of a shower and I collapsed into it. Water filled the tub slowly, and the higher the level of water inside got, the harder it was for me to peel myself off the floor and get inside. I heard the front door unlock and Bono's little running noises through the corridor.

"Darling, you've come seriously close to flooding our house. Come on, let's get you inside.", Harry let some of the water out of the tub and helped me take my clothes off.

"I feel very rotten, honestly. What is this?"

"I think you're also running a fever. It's probably a stomach bug you picked up.", he touched my forehead with his big palm," There is no chance something else is happening, right?".

"I'd say it's unlikely, but you can go buy a pregnancy test if you'd like to know for sure.", my mouth was saying these words that my brain wasn't processing. I knew I wasn't pregnant, I'm incredibly careful about taking the pill, but horror had already taken over Harry's face.

"Babe, I cannot go buy a pregnancy test unless we want the entire world bombarding us with very personal questions. Maybe I call Becks and ask her to do it for us?", I nodded, and Harry disappeared to make the call. He left a bottle of Sprite and a bag of pretzels next to the tub, but he forgot to close the door and Bono was a second away from figuring out the content of that bag was edible.

"Harry, hurry! Bono is eating my sick food!", I thought I yelled, but it came out a bit louder than a whisper. The dog got dragged away and my pretzels were saved.

"Becks says she highly doubts you're pregnant, but she's going to Boots now and she'll text when she's on her way over.", his phone rang again, for the hundredth time today.

"Sorry, it's Jeff. It must be something about the tour. I'll be back in a second.", my feverish brain was playing with me because I suddenly couldn't remember what the last tour related decision was. Was it to go ahead with the tour or to postpone it? I tried remembering but my recollection of events was a bit jumbled up.

"What did he want?", I immediately sobered up upon seeing Harry's face.

"We won't be able to have two shows at over half the venues, which will make a lot of people mad."

"Rightfully so Harry. I'd be mad too, if I bought a ticked to see my favourite artist live and then lived through a pandemic with one thing helping me keep it together. That one thing being the desperate wish to see my favourite person sing my favourite song live, only for that to be taken away from me by post-Covid restrictions and incompetent management teams.", I must have said something very true, because his expression was a mixture of surprise and shame.

"Fever and throwing up make you lose all your filters, Ess.", he started letting the water out of the tub and grabbed the clean set of pyjamas that he prepared, "I know Jeff's trying, it's a tough world to live in, is all.".