"Go Louis!" Harry yelled from the sidelines of Louis' football game. "Kick it!"
Louis ran down the field as Harry cheered. Louis kicked the ball, sending it into the goal. Harry cheered. "Yay Louis!"
Louis ran by, giving Harry a high-five, and running back onto the field. Louis continued to get goals, making Harry even more proud.
After the game, Harry drove them home where he made delicious sandwiches for lunch. "Thanks so much, Hazz."
"What for?" Harry asked. "You're my husband. It's my job to do this."
"This is why I love you." Louis leaned over the table, placing a kiss on Harry's lips, Harry instantly kissing back.
"I love you too."
*~A couple months later~*
"Har, you shouldn't come today. You're too sick," Louis said, rubbing Harry's back as Harry continued to vomit into the toilet.
"No. I'm coming. I've never missed a single game."
"It's okay, love. You're too sick. Stay home and get some rest so you can feel better for the next game."
"No, Louis! I'm coming! No arguments." Harry stood up, brushed his teeth, and walked out like nothing happened.
Louis rolled his eyes and followed without argument. Louis drove to his game instead of Harry because of his state of sickness, despite how much Harry was begging to drive.
When they arrived, Louis helped get a chair for Harry and put it on the sidelines. "Louis, I can still do things."
"I know but you're sick and it's my job to take care of you." Harry sat down, staring at Louis. "Don't look at me like that."
"Tomlinson! Let's go!" Louis' coach called.
"Oh I gotta go, baby. I love you."
"I love you too. I'll be watching." Louis leaned down for a kiss before running off with his team.
Half way through the game, Harry began to feel very nauseous. He ran to the locker room, right into the bathroom. He made it to the toilet just in time to throw up his breakfast.
Louis looked over to where Harry was supposed to be sitting, but he wasn't there. He ran off the field, right to his coach.
"What the hell are you doing, Tomlinson?! Get back on the field!" He yelled.
"I'm sorry, coach but I don't know where my husband is," Louis said, looking around.
"I don't care! Get back on the field!"
"Just substitute." Louis ran into the locker room, looking for Harry. "Harry?"
No answer. "HARRY?!"
"In here," came a small voice from the bathroom. Louis followed the voice into the toilet.
When he walked in, he saw Harry hunched over the toilet, throwing up all the contents of his stomach. Louis ran over, soothing him. "Baby..."
Harry leaned back on Louis. "I'm okay, Lou. It's probably a bug..."
"Harry, I'm going to take you to the hospital. I need to know what's wrong with you, baby."
"But, Lou... Your game..."
"Fuck my game. You're more important to me." Louis helped Harry stand up, taking him to the car.
"You should at least tell your coach you're leaving."
"Like I said, you're more important. He can go fuck himself."
