Larry Stylinson Book

Harry's Sick⭐

By-KatieeEllen

Word count-

☕☕☕☕☕☕☕☕☕☕☕☕

Summary:

Harry Styles has caught tonsillitis, again, and this time Louis Tomlinson takes on the role of carer for the sick boy.

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Three days before the first show of the X Factor tour and Harry had tonsillitis, again. Louis sighed at the young boy lying next to him and was still forever grateful that he himself had his removed when he was just eleven; because he had to skip the almost whole of Year 5 and the majority of Year 6 because of this infection, his mother had argued and argued with the doctor for a year and a half before Louis’ torment was over.

Harry, on the other hand...

This was the third time this year and they had only just entered April. The other times weren’t as bad because they were only doing photo shoots and Harry didn’t have to talk, or more to the point sing, and the makeup could fix his pale face and photoshop could do the same with his sometimes bloodshot eyes. That didn’t change the fact that all Harry wanted to do was lay in bed and mope, however. It was hard enough waking Harry up on the best of days to go to shoots or vocal practice or meetings or interviews, let alone when he was ill.

Harry had made Louis climb into the same bed as him that night, not being able to sleep otherwise because of the slow ache in his throat and being away from home. Even though he and Louis had moved into an apartment around three months ago, Harry still got homesick and missed Anne, his mother, a lot. They had only moved in together because London was closer to everything that they needed; Niall, Liam and Zayn had their own apartments only blocks away and Harry could have gotten his own place if he wished but Louis had insisted that Harry shared an apartment with him, as he was the eldest member of the band and Harry was the youngest. Harry also secretly didn’t want to be alone, knowing exactly what would happen if he was.

“Lo..u..” Harry croaked out, breaking Louis’ train of thought as he watched the young boy stir, not being able to say more because of the fire in his throat.

“Shh,” Louis consoled him. “Don’t try and speak. Three days is enough to make this go away.” That was a lie and Louis knew it; Harry needed a week at least to get over things like this. He was horrible at getting over things and excellent at catching them, which wasn’t really the best situation for the ‘lead singer’ of One Direction. Harry shook his head and buried himself into his pillow, whining in pain and then grunting in frustration at whining; both of which just hurt his throat more.

Louis reluctantly pulled himself up and out of bed, walking through to the kitchen to put the kettle on and make himself a cup of tea and pour Harry a glass of milk. Louis knew it was the only thing he’d drink, for Harry hated water, and Louis knew trying to get him to drink a Lemsip would be impossible. He felt sorry for the youngest boy, because he knew exactly how it felt to be laid in a bed not being able to speak, eat or drink, and he wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy, let alone his best friend.

Louis could feel the heat radiating off of Harry as he walked back into the room with the two cups in hand; he hadn’t noticed it before because he’d shared a room – and a bed – with the younger lad and so must’ve gotten used to the temperature. Feeling Harry’s forehead, he came to the conclusion that Harry must’ve picked something up somewhere, again, and developed a fever along with the tonsillitis. Louis had experienced this once or twice in his five years of the torturous returning infection (he couldn’t remember the first six – he was able to block it from his memory) and knew how horrible it felt. It also meant that Harry had most likely caught the spring flu that'd been going around, which only meant that it’d take longer for Harry to get over. It took Fizzy three weeks this time last year – the Tomlinson family were prone to getting tonsillitis. Louis joked that it was just more reason for Harry to become one of them.