Description: Taylor is your girlfriend & she caught a bug at rehearsals. You are F
TW/CW: Emetophobia (Fear of Vomit/Throw up)
Y/N POV
I pulled back the sheets and sat up. I turned on the lamp to illuminate my quivering girlfriend beside me. "Baby?" I asked quietly. She stirred and rolled over, the sheets sticking to her sweaty body. "Tay?" I asked for her again, pulling back the blankets that were covering her. With no response again I reached my hand out and touched her back. Her damp skin shivered at my touch and she woke up. "Wha- huh?" Taylor mumbled and squinted.
"Are you feeling OK?" I asked, furrowing my brows together. She took a moment to think. "No... I feel super nauseous and hot," she murmured, holding her tummy. "I thought so. You must of caught something at rehearsals yesterday. Let me go grab you a trash bag and a cold towel." I said and got out of our bed.
"I don't know if I can last that long. Y/N I'm gonna be sick," Taylor suddenly said as I went to turn the door handle. I knew she wasn't going to make it to the bathroom by the urgency that filled her voice. My eyes darted around the room as she tried to sit up. My eyes fell on a reusable trader joes bag on our dresser. I quickly grabbed it and emptied the old shoes that were sitting in it, that never made it to the donation bins. I ran over to Taylor and opened the bag in her lap.
Luckily she could hold it until I got the bag, because it was violent. I pulled her blonde hair back, while rubbing my hand up and down her spine. I grimaced at the awful noises and smells, trying not to gag myself.
"You're OK, Tay. I've got you. Let it out."
Once she finished, she burst into tears. "I-I'm sorry," She cried. "No, no don't be sorry. You can't help this kinda stuff, baby." I reassured and took the bag from her. "Go get yourself into the bathroom and I'll just go quickly throw this out," I said and rushed downstairs to the garage. I opened up our large trash can and dumped the bag in and jogged back upstairs. Taylor was sat on the toilet with the seat down.
"How you feeling now?" I asked, grabbing some tissue and wetting it. She just whined as I wiped her mouth. "Still not good? Or just the throwing up a ton hurt your stomach more?" I asked, earning a sad nod from her.
"Aw, my love." I frowned at her state. I handed her a cup of water. Taylor took a sip and then rinsed her mouth out. "Lets get you back in bed, honey." I said and helped her up. We walked back to bed slowly and she laid down. "Now I'll go grab you those things I said earlier," I said and actually made it out of the room this time.
