Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Louis stood there staring at the blonde boy, his mouth hanging upon. "The fuck mate, is that really you?"
Niall grinned at him from behind his weird Irish scarf- hideous grey with green and red patterns. His eyes were a bright blue over his pink cheeks and nose. Snow was resting on his shoulders and his beanie, the same stark white as the snow on the porch behind him.
"Yup, it's me," Niall said happily, letting go of his suitcase, which was standing by his feet. Louis raised an eyebrow, confused and stunned. "What- How did you get here?" he sputtered. Niall pocketed his gloved hands and chuckled. "By plane, duh. Wasn't that of a long flight, only took me three hours to get here."
"Louis!"
"And why did-" Louis' sentence got abruptly cut off when he heard the panicked yell from upstairs. Zayn.
Niall, who was standing outside, looked confused. Louis hurried upstairs, taking two steps at a time. Zayn was lying on the floor, clutching his stomach. "Louis, it huwts," he sniffled, tears sliding down his cheeks. Louis rushed towards his side, the nauseous look on Zayn's face making him suspicious that the boy's contents were soon going to be spilled. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he soothed, rubbing Zayn's back. "Let's get you to the bathroom."
"Louis, my tummy huwt," Zayn said incredulously. "I don't need bathwoom, I-" his eyes went wide and he clutched his stomach tighter.
Louis picked him up gently. "You can sass me later, buddy, but you're about to vo-"
Zayn retched, throwing up all over the bathroom floor and on Louis' socks. The little boy looked horrified of this, and his eyes welled up as he started to sob. Louis' heart ached for him, and so he ignored the stench from his socks and tried to calm the boy down. "It's okay," he whispered softly, running his fingers through the boy's clammy hair. "I got you," he mumbled as Zayn's sobs turned into hiccups. "Do you need to throw up more?" he asked gently. Zayn shook his head and Loui sat him down on the closed lid of the toilet.
After stuffing his socks in the laundry, cleaning the bathroom floor and his feet, Louis put on a new pair of socks. Zayn was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, knees pulled up to his chest as he watched him. "I'm sowwy," he said, sniffling. Louis' heart sank, unable to even stay annoyed, and he pulled the boy in his arms. "It's okay. Let's get you some food. Here, this will cover the yucky taste in your mouth." He pulled out a box from his drawer, and gave Zayn a strawberry drop. The boy was sickly pale, and his hands were cold as his arms wrapped around Louis' neck.
Louis walked downstairs, mind troubled by Zayn's condition. He decided to make soup, or at least try; it couldn't be that hard. When he reached the last step, the gust of cold wind reminded him of the open door. Niall was still standing outside, and Louis face palmed. He set Zayn down on the couch, a smile twitching on his lips. Zayn shivered, wrapping his arms around himself as Louis fetched a blanket from the armchair. "It c-cold," he stuttered. Louis nodded. "I'll go close the door. The mail just arrived, and so has your present."
