One Direction Sickfics

Harry sick at the studio, parts one and two

A horn blared obnoxiously from outside, telling me that Louis had arrived. He was my ride to the studio this morning because my car had been having a few problems and he'd been the first of the lads to offer.

I got to my feet before I could psyche myself out, knowing Louis would be less than happy if I made him wait too long. 

The room immediately started spinning around me and I squeezed my eyes tightly shut. I still felt like I was swaying, I probably was, but I least I didn't have to watch with my eyes closed. 

The horn went again and I groaned as the throbbing pain in my head spiked.
Migraine.

It wasn't exactly pleasant and it was going to make for a rough day, but I had decided that I could manage it at the studio. I had tablets in the pocket of my hoodie already and I'd probably have a little time to sleep even. Things were pretty chill at the studio at the moment, we've finished all the writing and decisions so all that's left is recording and there isn't much of a rush yet.

I would be fine for the day.
Probably. Might as well give it a shot, anyhow.

I forced my eyes open and thankfully my vision had settled. My stomach grumbled and I winced. Food was off the table the moment I woke up to find that I'd developed a migraine over night. Sometimes with these things I'll find myself hovering over the toilet feeling miserable for a good majority of the day so I figured if I didn't put anything inside me I'd have nothing to throw up.

I slid into the pair of shoes on the ground and went out the door, locking it behind me. Louis was watching for me out the window and when he saw me he pressed his face against the glass, making his nose flat and his lips squish. 

His cheery grin fell a little as I grew closer and I struggled to at least straighten up a little.

"What's wrong?" He asked as soon as I opened the door on the passenger side.

"Nothing's wrong," I replied quietly, my head jerking as if to remind me there was in fact something wrong.

Louis looked at me, his intense eyes locked on mine.

"I'm fine Lou," I pushed. I probably should've known he would notice something, he was way too observant for his own good.

"Haz, you don't look good. Like, at all," he said, tucking his legs into his chest to show that we wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon.

"I guess I just didn't get much sleep last night." 

 It was true. I'd woken up before two and hadn't been asleep since.

He gestured at the bulge, "what's in your pocket?"

I huffed and looked out the window, "pills."
There wasn't any point in lying, it seems he'd mostly figured me out anyway.

"Are you sick or something? Cause if you are I'm not driving you to the studio."

"It's just a bad headache okay, Sherlock? I'm fine," I murmured, shoving my hands into the pocket.

"Why did you even get out of bed? You could-"

"Lou, that's boring." 

I reached over and gently pushed his legs back down under the wheel, "can we just go?"

"Last chance to go back to bed, Styles," he said. 

I stayed silent and he took one last look at me before we rolled onto the road.

***

We pulled into the studio ten minutes or so later and I took a deep breath before literally stumbling out of the car, almost falling flat on my face. I managed to latch onto the top of the car before my knees gave in.