Ashton: "Y/N, babe, do you need anything else?" He asked from the doorway of your bedroom. You currently lay in the middle of the bed with covers and pillows and teddy bears galore surrounding you. "Ash, I really just needed on pillow but thanks." You chuckled, watching his expression go from worried, to even more worried, "But I just want to make sure you're ok! Are you sure you don't need anything else?" "Just some soup please." You said pouting your lip. "Of course, babe. I'll be right back." Ashton soon returned with a tray of steaming chicken noodle soup and a bunch of movies and of course some Nyquil to cure your sickness. "Your the best Ash, thank you so much." "No problem baby. I just want to make sure you get better real quick. We have a show coming up and I would hate for you to have to miss it." "Ash, I wouldn't miss it even if you carry the whole entire bed in the arena."
Michael: You had a terrible migraine that carried on all throughout the day so when you got home, you immediately fell on your couch, not wanting to do anything. Michaels soon walked through the door and saw your sleeping body, slumped on the couch. He knew something was up because you didn't even have the energy to walk to your bedroom. "Y/N, Y/N" He lightly shook you awake. "Hmm" You hummed, coming to a coherent state. "C'mon, lets get you to bed." He picked you up and carried you to your shared bedroom. Michael stripped you from your work clothes, and did the same to himself, leaving you both in your underwear. He climbed in the bed next to you and brought you close to him. "You don't have to lay here with me." You mumbled. "Y/N, shh, your sick. Now take a nap and you'll feel better." He kissed your forehead, leaving you to smile at how sweet your boyfriend was.
Luke: You hated being sick. Just the sight of vomit made you want to throw-up even more. When you woke up in the middle of the night, it was the first time Luke had seen you this way. He was rushed awake by the bright light shining in from the bathroom and then the sounds of your throwing up your dinner into the toilet. He hurried by your side, making sure your hair was out of your face as you continued to empty the contents of your stomach. "You don't have to see this, Luke. Go back to bed." You stated while you had a breath. His hand came to rest on your shoulder, giving it you a reassuring rub, "Nope. I'm staying until you are done." "You really-" "Nope not listening." Just as he finished, you felt another round come up your throat. Soon you were finished and Luke helped you back into bed. He wet a wash rag and placed it on your forehead. "You don't have to sleep with me. I wouldn't want you catching this." You commented as he walked over to his side of the bed. "It's alright. That way when I'm sick, I know you'll take care of me."
Calum: You've had strep throat before, but never this bad. No, this time was much worse because you lost your voice with it too. It had been gone for a good day and a half and you were absolutely losing your mind. Calum was very good to you though. He made you soup whenever you would write it down—seeing as you couldn't talk. He would also bring you your medicine. Not to be rude, but he was basically your bitch and you loved it. He felt so bad that you couldn't talk and had to call of work for the week to get yourself back to health that he even canceled plans with the boys in order to make sure you were OK. Since he had been such a good boyfriend the past few days, you decided to reward him and send him off on a night with his friends. "Are you sure?" He asked concerned. You nodded in response. "Alright, I made you soup on the stove and there are your favorite movies on the table. Please get better before I come home, I hate not hearing your voice." He pouted his bottom lip and you just shooed him out the door with a kiss on the cheek. He would come home to find you passed out, half on the couch and half on the floor with bowls and tissues everywhere as a movie played; earning him to chuckle at how cute he thought you were in all your sick glory.
