5SOS Sickfics

Christmas Shopping (2)- ❄️

I'm sorry if you requested something Christmassy and it still hasn't been done, I've had a lot going on recently. I'll try and get them done by the end of February, deal?

On the bright side, dragging out Christmas is always fun,
For @ghosttown5sos
xx

Michael's POV:

I hate Christmas shopping, but this time, to make it worse, I'm sick as hell. My throat is sore, my head feels light, I'm dizzy and hot. I tried telling the other boys earlier but they know how much I despise this awfully festive act and therefore assumed that I was faking to get out of it. We were walking out of Pulp (legit where I buy everything I wear) when a cold breeze hit us from a great big air vent thing above the entrance to the shop and a small groan escaped my lips. Nobody heard.

The cold gush of air shot into all the nooks and crannies of my clothing and body, filling up every crevice, every gap. I shuddered as seemingly warm air met my skin again and left me with a strange feeling of mixed heats, almost as if I'd had several dozen ice cubes taped to my body, then plunged into a boiling hot bath and had some of that sticky pain relieving 'ice' gel worked into my hair as it it was shampoo. I gasped and coughed. My chest was tight.

"Michael, we know you hate this, but you don't have to fake sick!" Ashton crossed his arms and broke our little band formation by turning to face me.  I look at him in disbelief and he quickens his pace and starts walking ahead of us.

"Yeah, dude. We can hear you making those weird noises like you're tryn'a make us feel bad or some shit. Not working, buddy," Cal shrugs a bit then goes to walk with Ash. I stop walking entirely and turn to Luke.

"D'you think I'm faking too?" My voice cracks halfway through and tears are welling up in my eyes.

"Mate, I don't know what crawled up their asses, but if you hate this so much you're gonna behave like that, go home.  Sorry," he runs ahead to catch up with the others, while I'm left stranded in the middle of the shopping centre with my few bags. I watch them walk off and a tear slides down my cheek.

"You don't need them, Mike... You're good..." I whisper to myself. I repeat that over and over again for a minute or two before dragging my sorrowful self off to a bench to cry and feel bad for me. I curl up against a wall and hold my pounding head, slowly falling asleep and still muttering to myself.

-

"M-Mikey?!" A familiar voice wakes me some time later. The person is shaking my shoulders. "Michael, wake up! I was a dick, I'm sorry." I mumble something incoherently at who I've now worked out is Ashton, and try to open my eyes. The light blinds me and makes sparks of pain dart around my head. "Let's go home, yeah?"