Description - you get really sick in the night but Harry is there for you
You were pretty sure if you got invited in to hell it would feel something like this.
Hot. Sticky. But chilled.
You had come down with a concerningly high temperature. Along with the added luxuries of a deafening headache, cold sweats and an upset tummy. Your body was burning all over, as if it had just been freshly cooked in the oven, but you felt colder than ice. It was a confusing juxtaposition, but there it was.
You'd called Harry, since he was in the studio recording his new music, and asked him to come home early. You didn't even get to the reasoning of why he should come home, before he hung up - telling you he was already vacating the premises. You hated to be that needy girlfriend who had to call about nearly everything, but Harry loved it more than anything. He loved the fact that you needed him. It gave him purpose, apparently .
You couldn't work out whether you regretted asking him to come home, or whether it was a blessing. It was a very fine line.
It was a blessing because, he looked after you, like a mother would her child, and made sure he stood by your side any time you found yourself lurched over a toilet. He made you chicken soup, from scratch, and even tested it to make sure it wasn't too hot, or salty, despite being vegetarian himself. He even made you honey and lemon tea, which he had to run to the store for the honey. When you say run, you mean run. He didn't want to leave you alone, at all, so he put on his running shoes and sprinted to the shop and back.
However, it was a slight regret because of how fussy he was over you. He loved it to bits; nursing to your every need. It sometimes became a bit suffocating, but then again maybe that's because you were running a high temperature.
You honestly didn't deserve Harry. He was just too kind and pure for his own good. You were unarguably lucky.
Laying on what felt like your death bed, didn't feel so lucky though.
It was now 10 pm and you could hear Harry turning on the alarm for downstairs, the loud beeping noise preventing you from sleep. That's all you'd done all day. Sleep. You thought it'd be more magical than it was. It was just uncomfortable, though, because of how cold, but hot, you were.
Your, much better looking, other half trudged through the bedroom door within a minute of the alarm going off. It should be criminal for him to look that good. He was only wearing, checkered, pyjama bottoms and a white t-shirt, and yet he made it look like Gucci Runway 2020.
The jingling of keys signalled Charlie was also present. Charlie was your 2 year old Golden Retriever. He was beautiful. When you and Harry has moved in together, 2 years ago, you'd managed to persuade him to get a dog. So within a few weeks of moving in you had a 5 month old puppy running around your house. He was your best friend, no doubt about it.
He was also ridiculously photogenic. More so than you, which made you jealous.
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