My Future (Harry Styles)

Chapter 13- 103

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Hey

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Chapter 13 is here :)

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I spring from my bed, not sure of what's going on in Harry's room.

As I ran out my door, I slid on my carpet, and I landed on the floor. I kept hearing Harry scream.

I quickly got back on my feet and swung open the door to Harry's room. Harry was struggling on his bed. But no one was there.

He's still sleeping.

"(Y/N)!! Noo!"

He was shaking badly and his covers were drenched in sweat. He was in only his boxers.

"Harry! Wake up!"

I started to cry. I didn't know what he was dreaming about but he scared the living crap out of me.

I grabbed his shoulders and jump on top of him. He opened his eyes. They are flaming green.

"Oh my god Harry..."

I sighed in relief as he's laying down, awake. I was scared shitless. He looks down at me on him. I forgot I was sitting on his lap.

"I'm sorry..."

I got off quickly

"No. Don't go."

I turned to see Harry, sitting up, with his head in his hands. His eyes look bloodshot and puffy from crying.

"Harry, it's ok. I'm here."

I sat next to him on his bed and rubbed his back. His skin was boiling hot. I touched his forehead and I think he has a fever.

"Harry, your boiling. I'll take your temperature."

I walk to his bathroom and he told me his thermometer is on the top shelf, behind the mirror. He slips the thermometer in his mouth and it reads

103

Great. A sick/crying/angry/ A very emotional Harry in front of me. I grabbed a wash cloth from the cabinet in the bathroom and ran it under cold water.

"Here, lay down."

He looks confused at first, but he does what I say. I put the cloth on his forehead and I see the relief wash over him quickly.

"You have a 103 fever. I'll probably have to call management tomorrow and tell them to cancel everything the next 2 days so you can get better."

"Yea that sounds good.."

He rubbed his eyes, probably about to fall asleep. He looks so adorable when he's sleepy. I probably look like a mess with my hair and the dark circles under my eyes.

"Harry?"

"Yea"

I'm afraid to ask him the question that I thought when I saw him screaming.

"Do.. do you want to talk about it?"

I'm standing there while he still has the cloth on his forehead.

"No"

There it is. Well, I was kinda expecting that answer. I don't blame him. It must have been pretty bad.