Harry Styles Imagines

You're sick and he keeps you company

"Okay, love. There's warm water in the kettle, extra blankets in the linen cupboard and DVDs in the shelf there." Your Mum tells you, checking for her keys in her handbag. "I'll call you during lunch. Get some rest, darling." She presses a kiss to your forehead.

"Have a great day, Mum." You croak, your throat hurting. You fall back on the couch and close your eyes, cursing the flu for making you stay in bed.

As much as you know sleep helps you get better quicker, you couldn't sleep. You just keep checking your twitter for a while before it gets boring. You aimlessly flip through the channels on the telly, which too, gets boring eventually.

After an hour or so of repeated twitter checking, channel flipping and tossing on the couch, you're so bored that you get up and go to find your subject books. If your books can make you sleep during classes, they should make you sleep when you're sick.

"Y/N, I'm home!" Harry, your brother, calls out from the front door. "Y/N? Where are you?" Slight panic rings in his voice, probably due to not seeing you on the couch.

"I'm here, Harold!" You manage to croak, but decide to just walk downstairs, knowing he wouldn't be able to hear you with the state of your voice.

Half way down the stairs, you bump into a frantic looking Harry.

"Thank goodness! I was so scared for a moment." He engulfs you in a hug. You stiffen and try to push him away.

"Y/N, what're you trying to do?" He chuckles, his strong frame not budging one inch in response.

"Let go of me, Harold!" You squirm and squeal. "You'll get sick, too." You try once more to push him away.

"I'm not so fragile like you, my little bunny rabbit!" He teases you, musing your hair and leading you back to your room. "I'm healthy as a horse." He boasts, helping you into bed.