Harry woke up the next morning feeling just as horrible as he did when he went to sleep, and although he didn’t want to, Louis practically dragged him kicking and screaming to the doctors. When they got there, Louis’ hunch was confirmed, and Harry was diagnosed with a fairly nasty case of the flu.
The doctor gave him some antivirals to take, hoping that they’d do the trick, and cut down on the recovery time. In the mean time, though, Harry felt just as ill as before. Sneezy was the word to describe it, and even worse was the coughing and sore throat.
Harry was peacefully (well, as peacefully as you can when you’re hacking up a lung) watching the telly until Louis' voice startled him.
"Time to take your medicine!" Louis yelled in a sing-song voice from the kitchen.
"Ugh I don't want to, I hate it." Harry grimaced, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Christ, Haz. It’s just a pill, stop being a baby and take it. If you want to feel better, you have to." Louis said, rolling his eyes. Harry’s eyelids fluttered shut, and he assumed the sneezing position (which, in his case, consisted of him covering himself fully with a blanket curling tightly into a ball, and making the most unattractive pre-sneeze face).
"HehSHOO! HehKISSHH! HehtCHIEW! HehtCHOO...*snff*...*snff* fine" Harry sighed, defeated.
Louis actually wasn't feeling too great either, his entire body ached, and his throat felt a bit scratchy and raw.
"Thanks for looking after me, you’re a good friend." Harry slurred groggily, shooting Louis a lazy grin.
"You’re welcome Hah...Harr..hehehh...Hi'itch! Choo! AhChoo! Ngt! Heh'ngt! Choo!"
"Bless you...are you okay?" Harry asked, looking at him worriedly.
Louis waved him off, not wanting to worry him. "*Snff* Thanks, I'm fine, probably just something in the air. Allergies and whatnot." Louis said, congestion sinking into his voice.
Harry nodded. He wasn’t pale, his nose wasn’t red, his eyes weren’t glassy. He knew that Louis was probably lying, and he had the beginnings of a cold, but Harry felt far too out of it to call Louis out. "Yeah probably, you’re lucky you have an immune system of steal."
"Everyone has an ‘immune system of steel’ compared to your crappy one. No offense, but you’re sick ALL the time." Louis said, chuckling slightly.
"It's not funny, Lou, this sucks" Harry said frowning.
"Well, rest up, it's Liam's birthday tomorrow, you'll be fine" Louis said.
"Oh yeah! I can't wait!" Harry whined.
"’Night, Haz"
Harry nodded. "’Night."
The morning came, and Louis and Harry were meeting up at Nando’s with some best mates from class.
Liam, who's birthday it was, was around 5'10 with brown eyes and short brown hair, he's also one of the sweetest, kindest, most caring lads they’ve met.
Next, there’s Niall, the Irishman with blonde hair and blue eyes. He’s about 5'7, and very loud, energetic and carefree.
Finally, there was Zayn, who was shorter than Liam, but only by about an inch. He's the easy-going one of the group, and was by far (according to the ladies at the University) the coolest.
As the day progressed, Louis felt worse and worse by the second. His head was pounding, he was shivering, it felt like someone had shoved burning coals down his throat, and his nose was all stuffed up (but was also running at the same time, which led him to be rubbing it constantly on the sleeve of his sweatshirt). He felt absolutely awful, to put it kindly.
Harry on the other hand, was feeling a bit better. He wasn’t one-hundred percent, since he did have the flu, and still was sneezing and coughing. His head was still aching, and his throat still bothered him, but he did feel better. It was probably all of the meds that he’d loaded himself up on before leaving, but he finally had some sort of relief, and he wasn’t questioning it.
Harry noticed Louis' quiet attitude, and took note of his appearance. He definitely wasn’t his usual outgoing, bubbly self, and he looked pale and miserable. Yep. He was definitely sick.
"You alright, Lou?" Harry asked, concerned.
“Yeah, mate.” Liam frowned, cocking his head to the side. “You look positively dreadful. Are you feeling ill?”
"No, no, I'm-” He was cut off by his breath hitching, and he grabbed a napkin off the table quickly, put it to his nose and mouth, turned away from the table, and squeezed his eyes shut. “Hiiih...Hi'kxtch! Hi'kxtch! Tsch! Tsch! Ehhehe...Hehtchoo!...fine *snff*...promise." Louis groaned, wiping his nose on the napkin. “Not sick.”
"Mm-hmm whatever you say. We're talking about this tonight." Harry said eying him.
"Yeah, okay" Louis said in a raspy voice.
“Me thinks he’s lying.” Niall murmured in a sing-song voice as he stuffed his face with chicken.
Louis shot him a glare, and Zayn just chuckled in amusement and shook his head.
The rest of the dinner passed uneventfully (and slowly, in both he and Harry’s opinion), and when they arrived home, Louis was completely exhausted. He hadn't stopped sneezing the whole car ride home; sneezing took a lot out of you.
Harry walked in, shooting Louis a knowing look, and made him a cup of Yorkshire tea, his favorite. Harry still felt like crap, and just wanted to sleep, but since it washis fault that Louis was sick, he figured he at least owed him a cup of tea.
"Lou what’s wrong?" Harry asked softly in concern.
"Nothing...I'm fine, I promise" Louis sniffled, squeezing his eyes shut at the pounding in his head.
"Don't lie Louis, you’re clearly sick" Harry said, frowning worriedly at Louis.
"It's probably just allergies, so don't worry about me or anything."
"Okay, okay. Stubborn as ever, I see. If you need anything, or decide you’re ready to admit you’re sick, just yell. I may or may not be asleep, though." Harry said as he left the living room.
