you get sick at a party (requested)

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"Does anyone know where Y/N is? Has anyone seen my girl?" Taylor asked around as she went from friend to friend at the huge party.

But she got the same answer from everyone.

No.

Taylor tried to remain calm as she looked around for you.

She knows you don't like huge crowds and losing you at this party full of people made her worry.

And her worry only grew when she remembered you mentioning that you weren't feeling very great before you left the house to come to the party tonight.

She wanted to stay home so you could rest and feel better but you insisted on going, telling her that you were fine and it was nothing.

But, in reality, you were lying.

You felt horrible.

You only tried saying that you didn't and that you'd be fine because Taylor hasn't seen some of her friends that are here tonight in what seems like forever and you didn't want her to miss the opportunity.

"Taylor," one of her friends said as they tapped her on her shoulder. "I know where Y/N is."

"Where is she?"

The friend took Taylor's hand and led her down the hall to one of the bathrooms before opening the door.

You were inside, throwing everything inside of your body up.

"Oh, no, baby," She said as she made her way over to you.

"I'm so sorry, Tay," You said as you clutched the toilet. "I didn't think I'd get this sick."

"Don't apologize. Just focus on getting everything up."

As soon as she said that, you began to vomit again.

Her friend closed the door so no one would hear and come over and make you feel even more uncomfortable than you already felt.

Taylor pulled your hair back and tried her hardest to comfort you through the terrible experience.

"I feel so awful." You mumbled and tried to catch your breath. "I want to go home, Tay."

"Baby, why'd you try to brush it off as nothing? I know you said you didn't think you'd get this sick but if you felt even kinda sick, you should've just said so."

"I didn't want you to miss seeing your friends here tonight."

"Baby, forget that. You come first. I can catch up with them at any time but you're what I care about most, especially when you're this sick."

You exhaled shakily and gagged a little, though you didn't throw up anymore.

"Come on. Wash up and we'll go home."

You flushed the toilet and then got up with her help before you rinsed out your mouth with some water and washed your hands.

Taylor washed hers too before guiding you out of the bathroom and down the hall.

Grabbing your things as well as hers, she carried it all in one hand and put her other hand on your back.

"Taylor? Are you leaving already? You can't, come get another drink!" One of her friends whined.

"I can't. My girl is sick." Taylor replied as you weakly leaned against her, squeezing your eyes shut. "She's throwing up and not feeling well so I just want to take her home and rest with her."

"Oh, okay. I understand. You'll both be missed tonight but do feel better, alright?" Her friend told you before walking away.

Taylor guided you out of the house and over to the car.

But the whole way, you held onto her.

You needed the comfort you always find in her.

Now more than ever.

"I'm sorry you feel so awful, my love. But don't worry. We're going home and you can get some sleep. Hopefully it's just a stomach bug and you'll feel better in no time."

"I hope so." You mumbled as she rubbed your back. "Sorry I got sick here and that I wasn't fully honest with you."

"It's okay. Let's just focus on getting home and into bed. We'll cuddle and catch up on sleep and just relax together. I'll hold you and do my best to make you feel better."

"You always do." You said with a small, sleepy smile before you got into the car.

You closed your eyes as she kissed your forehead and then shut the door before getting into the driver's seat.

"Tired, honey?" She asked when she noticed you still had your eyes closed.

You hummed in response.

"Go to sleep. I'll wake you when we get home. Just relax, my love."

You put your seat back a little and drifted off to sleep, thankful that you could finally rest.

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