The hotel room was dimly lit, the only sound filling the air the soft hum of the air conditioning. Niall tossed and turned restlessly in his bed, his face contorted in fear as he battled against the nightmare that gripped his mind. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he let out a muffled cry, jolting awake in a cold sweat.
Louis stirred from his sleep, his eyes blinking open as he heard Niall's distress. "Niall, mate, you okay?"
Niall sat up abruptly, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. "Yeah, just... just a bad dream."
Harry sat up in his bed, concern etched on his face. "Do you want to talk about it, Niall?"
Niall shook his head, his voice trembling. "No, it's okay. I'll be fine."
But the worry in his band mates' eyes was palpable, their concern for their friend evident in the way they hovered around him, offering words of comfort and reassurance.
Zayn, however, remained silent, his eyes closed as he feigned sleep. The others exchanged confused glances, noticing his lack of response.
"Zayn, aren't you going to help?" Louis asked, his tone tinged with annoyance.
Zayn remained still, his stomach churning with nausea. He felt too sick to move or speak, fearing that any sudden movement would result in him being sick.
Louis rolled his eyes, frustration evident in his voice. "Typical Zayn, always so lazy."
Niall shot Louis a glare, coming to Zayn's defense. "Leave him alone, Louis. Maybe he's not feeling well either."
But Louis waved off Niall's concern, too caught up in his annoyance to notice the truth. "Whatever. Let's just focus on helping Niall."
After a few minutes of calming Niall down and reassuring him that everything was okay, the boys settled back into their beds, the tension in the room slowly dissipating.
Zayn tried to fall back asleep, but the nausea gnawed at him relentlessly, growing more unbearable by the minute. Suddenly, he bolted upright, a wave of nausea crashing over him as he stumbled out of bed, barely making it to the carpeted floor before he was sick.
The sound of retching echoed through the room, prompting the others to rush to Zayn's side, their concern overshadowing any lingering annoyance.
"Oh my God, Zayn, are you okay?" Harry asked, kneeling down beside him.
Zayn nodded weakly, his face pale and clammy. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to..."
Louis placed a hand on Zayn's back, offering words of comfort. "It's okay, mate. We're here for you."
Niall fetched a bucket and a damp cloth, helping Zayn clean up as best they could. "We're sorry for not realizing you weren't feeling well, Zayn. We should've been more understanding."
Zayn managed a weak smile, grateful for his friends' support. "It's alright... I should've said something."
And as they gathered around Zayn, offering him comfort and reassurance, the bonds of friendship that united them grew stronger, reminding them that no matter what challenges they faced, they would always have each other to lean on.
The night stretched on, the air heavy with worry as Zayn's condition continued to deteriorate. Despite their best efforts to comfort him, Zayn's nausea only seemed to worsen, leaving him weak and exhausted.
As morning dawned, Zayn lay in bed, his face pale and drawn, his breathing shallow and labored. The others hovered around him, their concern mounting with each passing moment.
Louis paced back and forth, his brow furrowed with worry. "We need to do something, he's getting worse."
Harry nodded in agreement, his voice tinged with urgency. "We should call for a doctor. This isn't normal."
Niall's stomach churned with fear as he watched Zayn's condition deteriorate. "I'll go down to the front desk and ask for help."
But before Niall could make his way to the door, Zayn let out a weak moan, his eyes fluttering open.
"Guys... I don't feel so good," Zayn murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Louis rushed to Zayn's side, concern etched on his face. "Hang in there, mate. Help is on the way."
Minutes felt like hours as they waited anxiously for the doctor to arrive. Zayn's breathing grew more labored with each passing moment, his body wracked with waves of nausea and dizziness.
Finally, the door swung open, and a doctor rushed into the room, his expression grave as he assessed Zayn's condition.
"He's severely dehydrated and needs immediate medical attention," the doctor declared, his voice urgent.
The boys sprang into action, helping Zayn onto a stretcher and rushing him to the nearest hospital. Hours passed in a blur of anxiety and fear as they waited for news of Zayn's condition.
Finally, the doctor emerged from the room, a tired smile on his face. "He's going to be okay. It was a severe case of food poisoning, but we were able to treat him in time."
Relief washed over the boys as they gathered around Zayn's bedside, offering words of comfort and reassurance.
"I'm sorry for not believing you earlier, Zayn," Louis apologized, his voice filled with regret.
Zayn shook his head weakly, a small smile tugging at his lips. "It's okay, Louis. I should've said something sooner."
And as they stood together, united in their love and support for their friend, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would always be there for each other, in sickness and in health.