Welcome To The Media (Dylmas AU)

16. Sick Days

Thomas's pov

*four day timeskip*

The night was still young when I suddenly awoke in my bed. Confused, disoriented, and still half asleep, I pulled my heavy duvet up closer to my chest, glancing at the time. I drowsily noted that I still had a good four hours to sleep, so I let my eyes flutter shut again, relaxing back into my pillow.

All of a sudden, catching me off guard as if it were raining in the desert, extreme nausea rushed through me. I gasped, my eyes flying open. I keeled over in bed, clenching at my stomach as if that would ease my pain. Swallowing around my suddenly constricted throat, I paused, waiting to see if the nausea would vanish.

The seconds ticked by, and I was just relaxing again when the second bout settled in my stomach, stronger than the first. Gasping again, I threw off my heavy blanket, slipping out of bed and across my hotel room in a few strong leaps. My throat was constricting and my mouth was dry, and I could sense my fate from the second I slammed open the bathroom door.

I fell to my knees at the toilet just in time, my pale fingers clutching the rim as I heaved out the contents of my dinner. Coughing, I wiped at my mouth when I finished, now wide awake. I swallowed, still feeling the lagging sense of vomit in the back of throat, ignoring it as I flushed the toilet.

My knees were shaking as I used the sink to help pull me to my feet. My body felt weak, and my eyes drooped wearily, still trying to comprehend the last few moments. I splashed cold water on my face, hoping that that would ease the sweat now forming small beads on my brow. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, surprised to see how pale I was in the harsh light of the bathroom, before turning on my heel. My hand slid the lights off as I edged back into the main room, still not feeling completely settled.

I had just stepped foot into the room again when the overwhelming urge to vomit clamped its claws around my neck again. I spun, nearly tripping as I threw my small body back onto the tiled floor, repeating the process I had experienced not five minutes ago. Blinking wearily, I pushed the hair on my forehead back away from my eyes. I was coated in a thin layer of sweat, and the cold air of the room on my heated skin made my shiver. I shuddered in distaste when the lingering taste of throw-up settled in my mouth, standing quickly to grab my toothbrush.

Big mistake. Groaning, I fell to my knees again, ignoring the pain that burned at my joints. For the third time in fifteen minutes, I was vomitting what little remained in my stomach, willing myself not to pass out as each minute left me weaker than the last. I slumped back against the wall when I had finished, gagging again.

I probably looked drunk as I looked around the bathroom, still disoriented from my rude awakening. I shivered despite feeling hot all over, and I already felt a dim headache pounding lightly at the back of my skull. I peeled off my T-Shirt slowly, throwing it to the side and hoping that the cold air would cool down my overheating skin. Still, I sat shivering and yet too hot, a feeling I had not experienced since I was a child sick with the flu.

Too tired to edge back in bed, I rested my head on the bathroom tub, mind reeling. I tried to come up with a logical explanation to my sudden and overwhelming sickness, but nothing struck me until I was kneeling in front of the porcelain bowl again, spitting out a meal that had been delectable just hours previously.

Then it hit me; I was pregnant.

My eyes widened and I believed the thought, before the part of my brain that actually functioned at two in the morning reminded me that as I was a male who had not had sex in over four months, the odds of morning sickness were not even plausible. Cringing, I realized that I had instead just come down with some type of sickness.