Footie & Frames » stylinson

seven

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Chapter 7

"Why?", I ask my eyelids, fighting to open them.

Each time I have attempted, I've been blinded by the white light that filters through the thin curtains that Louis and Zayn hang up a few years back when we first moved in.

"Why, what, baby?", asks Louis, coming in from the kitchen and I feel the bed dip near my feet. I move my arm from their spot draped over my eyes and squint at him without my glasses, "Here's your food and medicine. . ."

"Hey. . . I'm okay", I smile lightly, tightening my grip on his hand as he earnestly grips it, "And I'm not very hungry"

Louis sighs and shakes his head sadly, but subtly. Then he smiles at me, nodding his head like he understands, "You have to at least get something into your system, you need to get some strength. And it's just some iron vitamins. Doctor Sanchez says they won't do anything but good until the test results come back"

I nod and extend my free hand and he sets a biscuit on it and I furrow my eyebrows at him, "I'm not hungry"

"You have to take the vitamins with food. I don't make the rules", Louis chuckles, and I sigh and take the biscuit, gnawing at it and try at ignoring the dryness to try and tough it down. I must grimace, because Louis gives a a half sympathetic half amused smile. I roll my eyes at him and hold my hands out for the vitamins. "Pushy", he chuckles, depositing the strawberry flavored tablets into my opened palm.

"There's no actual strawberry in this right? 'm allergic, y'know?", I ask hesitantly and Louis scoffs, throwing his hands up and his body onto the bottom of the bed.

"You'd think I'm trying to kill y─ungh! I, I─", Louis splutters, reaching for me, dropping the platter to the carpet, wrapping his arms around my neck so quickly I flinch backwards with wide eyes and surprised flailed arms, "No, no, no I'm not going to try and kill you and your body isn't going to try and kill you and. . . and. . . a─and. . ."

I hush him gently, rocking us back and forth as we both breath deeply, breathing each other in.

After a good five minutes, I tighten my hold on the back of his head and whisper, "I'm not gonna die. I'm not gonna die and you're going to be stuck with me for a really long time"

"Darn", he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into my hair.

"Hush up. We have interviews today at the pitch, right? With Man U?", I ask, hoping to divert the subject. Louis sighs into my hair and nods. It takes him several moments to respond past that and I wait in silence, just rocking us from side to side.

"Yeah. They're probably going to discuss the matter of my injury, finding a new captain, and your. . . you, um. . . whatever's wrong with you"

"So you think something's wrong with me now?", I kid and Louis stiffens, pulling away to get a look at my face, eyes serious and concerned. It only takes a moment for him to realize the motives for my comment and he settles down with a flop, and so does my stomach, "Okay, toilet"

"Hurry, hurry. I'll meet you in there", he quickly hustles me off the bed, and he's grabbing for his clutches before I even take a step. "Go!"

Holding tongue to the roof of my mouth to try and hold my stomach, I stumble towards the toilet nearly blindly, blinking away at the blurry haze from my poor vision. "Mghph", I gasp incoherently. I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror before I fall to the porcelain bowl.

When did my eyes get so dark? I really need to wash my hair, too. And my skin is so pale.

It only takes a few moments for Louis to catch up, abandoning his crutches at the door with a loud crash that startles me. "Oh, baby", he whispers, hopping one-footed towards me, grasping the sink for support. Hands gently on my back as he slowly sits down, his injured leg cast out in front of him.