A Night in Hollywood

Sick Day

Louis spent New Year's Eve that year with Niall and Amelia. He was invited over for dinner and they drank champagne into the new year.

"What's your New Year's resolution?" Amelia asked him as they looked at the fireworks.

"Snog Harry Styles senseless," Niall replied for him.

Louis slapped him in the back of the head, mostly because he was an idiot, but also because he wasn't entirely wrong.

Three days later, work began again, and Louis walked onto the set with his Ray-Bans on, coffee in his hand, and a charming smile on his lips as he greeted his colleagues once again.

Surprisingly, Harry wasn't there.

"Where's the monster?" Louis asked Henry.

"He came in early and I've never seen anyone look so sick in my entire life," Henry said. "I sent him home."

Louis pursed his lips but said nothing.

Work was surprisingly uninteresting when there wasn't a hot-headed Harry Styles to practise lines with.

After work, Louis made a decision. He took his car, drove to the nearest supermarket, and went to the section where they stored frozen food. He picked a tomato soup and then continued to find some medicine. Nose spray, painkillers, cough syrup... Just then he realised he didn't even know what kind of sick Harry was. It was crazy. Why was he even doing this?

He bought all the different kinds of medicines he could get near and some nose-blowing paper.

He paid and drove to Harry's house.

Louis had gotten the code to Harry's gate and he let himself in. He parked his car in the driveway and stepped out. He hadn't texted Harry that he was going to show up, and he was beginning to feel a bit weird about being there.

"I'm just bringing my friend some soup," Louis mumbled to himself as he walked up to Harry's front door. "It doesn't have to mean anything else."

He reached the door and lifted his hand to knock. His hand hovered above the door, but, finally, he made contact with the wooden surface through three rapid knocks.

He waited a minute and nothing happened.

He tried the doorbell.

He waited two minutes and nothing happened.

With a frown on his face, he tried the handle. The door opened. With the plastic bag from the supermarket in one hand, he stepped inside the house. Louis had taken quite a liking to Harry's home. He loved the brash colours and fairy lights. It was cosy in a way his own home could never be.

He made his way upstairs to where Harry's bedroom was. He couldn't help but feel like a proper creep, but he pushed the thought aside as he opened the door to Harry's bedroom.

Harry was a sorry sight.

He was deep asleep in his bed, the whole mattress full of used pieces of snot paper. He was snoring and sniffing in his sleep. Salvia was making its way down his chin and his hair looked as if it had a bit of puke in it. And it smelled of sweat and sick.

Louis scrunched his nose and stepped further into the room. He made his way to the bed, placing the bag by the foot of it. The bed dipped beneath his weight as he got onto it. Harry didn't even stir.

"Harry," Louis softly said, stroking a bit of greasy hair away from Harry's forehead. "Wake up, it's Louis."

Harry moved in his sleepy state. His eyelids fluttered, but he didn't open them.