Narry One Shots

Hazza's Sick

Harry woke up feeling absolutely miserable. The touring, long nights, and little sleep were finally getting to him. Harry was sick. Which was a problem. He wasn’t a lightweight who complained about sneezing, or a drama queen who demanded ridiculous things. Harry was an emotional wreck who didn’t know how to handle himself. Truth be told there was only one person who could handle sick Harry, besides his mum, and he was recording for the album.

Still, Harry reached across the bed hoping to touch a warm body but found nothing but long cold sheets. He let out a pathetic groan and slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. His whole body screamed in protest. Harry collapsed forward and rolled onto the floor with a thump. Whimpering, he pulled on a white hoodie embossed with the Irish flag and broken in jogging bottoms. The hoodie smelled like a mixture of man and boy and a faint hint of sugary sweets. It smelled like home. Harry wandered out into the living room hoping to find some help.

When Louis walked into the shared portion of their hotel suite he stopped dead in his tracks.

Harry was sitting on the edge of the couch making pathetic little noises as he stared off aimlessly.

Louis pulled out his phone and shot off a quick text, Haz is sick D:

It was just then that Harry decided to collapse onto the floor. He made no move to get up, just laid there and whimpered.

“Oh shit!” Louis ran over and quickly helped the curly haired boy back onto the couch. “Shit Haz, you ok?”

“Noooo…” Harry crumbled into the couch.

Louis checked the text he just got and smiled a little. “Hold in there mate. Louis will make you a cuppa, yeah?” He didn’t wait for a response, just walked into their kitchen and put some water on. He made Harry’s favorite and brought the steaming cup over.

Harry sat up a bit, something like hope in his hazel eyes. He took a sip and almost spit it back out. “Wrong kind…” He whimpered like he was dying.

“Alright love.” He patted Harry’s cheek before heading back into the kitchen to make a different cup.

Liam walked over to him. “How is he?”

“Lost and miserable.”

Liam nodded. “I got a text. Hopefully this will help.”

Louis grabbed Niall’s tea. He was the only one in the group that preferred the sweet, herbal stuff. He made the apple cinnamon one, hoping it was right.

Harry took a sip and made a face. “It isn’t sweet enough!”

“Want me to try again?”

Harry shook his head and curled up in on himself.

Liam joined them a few minutes later. “Sit up there Haz, Daddy Direction’s made you soup.”

Louis helped Harry sit up in the corner of the couch.

Harry took the bowl with shaking hands. He took a bite and nearly choked on it. “This is awful!”

“What you mean awful? I made it exactly the same way! I followed the directions perfectly!”

“No it doesn’t!” Harry just looked at them, for once no energy in his fair face. He was exhausted and achy and just miserable. He knew his mates were trying to help, but none of it was working. It just wasn’t right. When he started to fidget Liam snatched the soup away so he didn’t spill it all over.

Zayn walked in, waving his cell at Louis and Liam. “Need help?”

“Yes.” They agreed in unison.