Change|H.S|

Seven

New Years was a magical time. The anticipation for the ball dropping at Midnight was something I'd felt since I could remember. There was a legend that whatever you were doing on New Years Eve, you'd be doing the entire year. Here I was, sitting with Harry and drinking tea; I could live with that. By the time it was 11:15, I was feeling sleepy, laying on him as we watched what seemed to be endless Netflix.

"You sleepy, babe?" he asked, his voice quiet and comforting.

"Kind of. That and I just want to feel better," I shrugged.

"I know, I want you to feel better too. I remember the last time I got sick and it was bloody awful." I rolled my eyes at him playfully.

"You probably haven't been sick since you were like, three. You're so healthy."

"That's not true. I haven't been sick since I was nine."

"You're absurd."

He laughed, kissing my cheek, "I know."

"There's only a short time left of 2015. Can you believe that?"

"It's absolutely bonkers."

"I mean, if you really think about it, this time last year, what were you doing?"

"I played basketball and baked with my parents and Gemma. What were you doing?"

"I was sitting in a restaurant, drinking champagne and wine and eating," I laughed.

"That sounds way more fun," he joked.

"Now that I look back, it really wasn't. I'm not much into drinking and partying anyway."

"I did a bit back home, but not too much."

"I'm sure you were all up in that."

"We still have a lot to talk about," he blushed, his dimpled grin making him even more adorable than he already was.

"That's true," I nodded, finishing the last of my fifth cup of tea. There was comfortable silence between us and he grabbed my hand, lacing his fingers between mine and giving a small squeeze almost exactly like when we had been in Atlanta. I smiled, attempting a quiet cough but failing. He pressed a small kiss to my temple and leaned his cheek against my head.

I was burning up, sweat beginning to coat my forehead and I yanked the covers from my legs. Kissing Harry at midnight with a sweaty face was not acceptable. This was the most inconvenient time to be sick, the world seeming like it wanted to sabotage me. Dozing on and off, I felt like I was dying.

"Babe," Harry whispered, "It's 11:56."

"I'm sorry," I laughed, feeling tears begin to form.

"It's okay, love. I understand that you're not feeling good. If you want to go back to sleep, you can."

"I can't until after midnight." He smiled at me, shaking his head.

"So stubborn."

"You wouldn't like me if I wasn't." He lightly chuckled and got up from next to me. Handing me the Pedialyte from the mini-fridge in the corner, he took a step into my bathroom and I was almost thankful as he handed me the small bottle of Tylenol. The cool liquid tasted funny as I gulped the last of it down and popped two Tylenol into my mouth.

"I literally can't believe we're only three minutes from an entire new year. That's crazy to me," I coughed. His smile widened and I tried my best to stay sitting up.

"Two minutes now."

"C'mere." Standing carefully, I made my way down the stairs and into the living room, turning the TV on. Still two minutes. Hardly being able to breathe, I stood in front, my eyes following all the bright lights and colors. One minute.