⁠☞ narry one-shots

✎hide and sick

a / n : it wouldn't be a one direction wattpad story without the infamous 2013 'sick but ignored' or 'try to hide sick' story.

So here I give this to you.

But with a twist.

Niall :

"Fuck!" I hissed as a sharp pain stabbed my stomach.

My hand dove under the sheets to press onto the sore spot on my abdomen. The pain pulsed even worse and I suppressed a whine of discomfort.

The fog of slumber had long cleared from my mind from when I had startled awake to a dull throb in my lower region.

I had assumed it was my husband's heavy arm that was draped across my my stomach tightly.

But, with each passing minute, the ache got stronger until I decided that even Harry's burly, muscly arm could ever cause that much pain.

I stifled another groan as a wave of more pain came onto me like a punch to the gut, leaving me almost winded.

I really wished that my husband would have woken up by now, but he was still fast asleep, head nuzzled into the crook of my neck, hair flopped over his face.

Squirming away from his grip and rolling off the bed, I tried to be as silent and subtle as I possible.

Harry had only come home from work at 1am last night after an emergency had taken place in the ER.

He returned extremely disappointed and upset, not being able to save a women and her unborn triplets from a car crash, that killed all of them in the operating room.

The whole reason my husband became a doctor was because he wanted to save lives and help people.

But no one really talked about the sadness that came with each loss : the innocents you weren't able to save .

Harry really deserved a good rest. And who was I to trouble him for a small stomach issue?

Suddenly a freight truck of nausea smashes into me and I gagged into my fist, stumbling into the bathroom frantically.

Dropping to my knees, I slammed the toilet seat open and just started retching into the bowl.

My foot had caught against the door as I shut it and the pain from it only seemed to feed into my nausea.

My stomach painfully contracted with each gag and I was soon reduced to a dry-heaving heap over the bowl.

My body slumped against the cool wall of the bathroom when the nausea finally calmed down. I sluggishly slammed my hand on the flush button.

My hand gripped to the sink and I wobbled to my feet, steading myself.

I reached out for the toothbrush and toothpaste and started the repetitive actions of dental hygiene.

"Fuck my life," was the first thing I groaned out when I looked in the mirror.

My skin was as pale as a bag of coke and it had a flushed blochiness to it that would have all the ladies running...away.

I definately had seen worse days, but this look would not do.

Whenever Harry detected the slightest weakness within me, with his creepy doctor radar senses, he would mollycoddle me until I felt all my masculinity wash away with my ego.

It was always :

"Oh no, baby! Don't drink that water, it's not warm enough!"

Or