Careless Whisper

XVII

TW: mention of self harm

Louis wakes up the next morning because he is shaking so badly. Every bone, every muscle aches, his head feels heavy and leaden, he's definitely sick.

"Oh fucking hell...I'm dying," Louis curses softly and pulls the covers higher. But it doesn't help, his body continues to freeze uncontrollably. Louis groans and can't remember the last time he felt so bad. It must have happened yesterday when he was walking through London without a jacket. He calls for Liam so that he could get him medicine but he doesn't seem home yet.

Exhausted, he surrenders to his fate and remains curled up. He keeps falling asleep again only to be woken up by his shaking body. Just as he's about to fall asleep once more, he hears the shrill ringing of the telephone in the living room and he turns to the side, powerless he manages to sit up with an effort. He's dizzy and the phone ringing hurts in his head. He slowly stands up and mobilizes the last of his strength to drag himself into the living room. Louis supports himself on the sideboard with one hand and slowly puts the receiver to his ear with the other.

"Yes?" he croaks, his voice thick and while he speaks he also notices that his throat hurts a lot.

"Louis? Is that you?" the caller asks and Louis immediately recognizes Harry's voice. He didn't expect for Harry to get in touch so soon, if at all, and the knowledge that it's him settles like balm over his soul.

"Yes," Louis just breathes, he doesn't feel capable of more.

"Are you alright? You sound different."

"I'm sicker than I've been for ages and I probably won't survive today," Louis wails in a low voice. Harry is laughing on the other end of the line and Louis can imagine him shaking his head in amusement and his curls bobbing along. Despite everything, the image conjures up a small smile on Louis' face.

"Sorry for laughing but you're exaggerating," Harry apologizes with a soft voice.

"By the way, I blame you. Because of you I forgot my jacket at the event and was completely frozen when I got home yesterday."

"Then I guess I'll have to make it up to you and offer myself as your personal nurse," and Louis can practically hear Harry's smile.

"Mhmmm kinky, Styles!" Louis replies dryly and a fit of coughing overcomes him. He holds the phone away from him until he's calmed down and just mumbles a little sorry as he puts the phone to his ear again.

"You don't sound good at all. Give me your address and I'll be there in an hour. I just have to clear something up quickly," Harry says decisively, his tone allowing no arguments.

Louis tells him the address, asks Harry to get him some medicine and they both say goodbye. Then he quickly drags himself into the bathroom. No matter how badly he's doing, he's not going to meet Harry unwashed and with foul breath. Freshening up demands everything from him and he then only staggers quickly to the apartment door to unlock it, so that Harry can simply come in and then lie straight back into bed. The chills have stopped but he feels the fever coming on. He groans and tries to find a comfortable position where not all of his limbs hurt. When he has finally positioned himself, exhaustion overwhelms him and he gratefully receives his sleep.

ꨄ

He wakes up to a cold feeling on his forehead and opens his eyes in shock and confusion. At first he thinks he's hallucinating when he sees Harry sitting on the bed next to him. His brain still hasn't fully grasped the latest events. To make sure it's not a fever dream, he feebly reaches up and touches Harry's thigh.

"You're real," he murmurs, resting his hand on his leg. He closes his eyes again and hears Harry softly chuckling.

"The one and only," Harry says, stroking his hand. Louis sighs gratefully.