January. // z.m. au

Chapter 28

Sweater Weather (acoustic) | The NBHD

There's nothing worse about being sick than being sick and alone. The combination just didn't go well together. It was like going ice skating by yourself; where's the fun in that? But here I was, tucked under about three thick blankets because it was so goddamn cold, nose running like it was trying to win a marathon. My head ached, well not really ached but it felt like someone was applying pressure to my skull and yeah, it wasn't fun.

I even had to call out of work today, which any other time I'd be ecstatic but now I wish I could've gone because being stuck at home with a fever and a halfway there sore throat was just the worst. Emphasis on the worst.

I tried texting Grace earlier but then I remembered that she absolutely couldn't stand when people were sick (she got all grossed out and weird) so I ended up deleting the message and never sending it. I could call Alexa but she was kind of, you know, Alexa. I knew if she were here right now that she'd only spend the whole time complaining and wishing she were somewhere else.

Some friends I had.

I wished that my mum was here, she's the only one who could actually deal with me right now. Seeing as she took care of me for eighteen years, I would assume she'd be somewhat used to it.

She could make me soup (which, I hated soup but somehow my mum made it taste great) and check up on me when she needed to. She'd rub my back and get me the good medicine and not that gross bubblegum flavored liquid stuff that I despised. But sadly, my mother wasn't here so I was left to fend for myself.

Or...there was one other option: I could call Zayn. But I didn't want to. Of course I would never pass up a chance to see him but not like this. And it wasn't because I looked like a corpse come back to life, I couldn't really help that part. I just didn't want to bring him into this. And most of all, I didn't want him getting sick either. What a bummer that would be.

But I didn't want to be alone.

Maybe I could just sleep it off until I got un-sick and then I'd be good as new.

Sadly, I didn't think it worked out that way.

My fingers were itching to call him, but my mind was telling me to stop that this instant. My head was starting to hurt even more just thinking about this.

I decided against my strong urges to call my boyfriend and closed my eyes. Hopefully I'd just drift to sleep because keeping up with my head right now was a complete workout. I turned slightly to turn off the lamp beside me (oh, did it ache) and stuffed myself into my covers, hoping to slide into a peaceful unconsciousness.

***

I woke up, eyes fluttering open to a figure before me. I couldn't really see since it was dark -- how long had I been asleep? -- and I just woke up. He was petting the top of my head like I was some kind of dog, like I was Trouble, smoothing out my hair with his fingers.

"She lives," he let out a breathy laugh, reaching over to finally cut on the light. Of course it was Zayn, but, "how'd you get in here?" I frowned.

He grabbed a set of keys from my nightstand jingling them in front of me. I winced, the sound made my head spin.

"Oh, sorry," he hissed, bending down to kiss my forehead. I didn't think he should do that.

"No, no, no," I shook my head, leaning away from him. That hurt. "M'sick." I coughed.

"I can see that," Zayn chuckled, still bending down to kiss my forehead.

"You're gonna get sick," I whined. I tried moving away again but he moved a bit faster and placed his lips at my temple.