One Direction Sickfics

Harry sick- for offical_reignQ

I was laying in bed, unable to sleep and staring up at the ceiling when the realisation hit me.

I'd been acting weird all day, and I had to be really off for me to notice.

I'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed, grumpy and agitated from the get go and every little thing just seemed to piss the hell out of me. I forgot to eat breakfast, and then lunch as well, and when the boys and I went out to get a drive through dinner I didn't find the smell of fried food as pleasant as I usually would. If anything it just put me off. I didn't eat much then, and I wasn't hungry now either.

I was dead tired, pretty much just a zombie really. I dozed off for a few moments at the two hour promo event we'd done earlier in the day and then again in the car on the way home.

I couldn't believe that it had taken me this long to click, but I was definitely getting sick.

Not a doubt.

Even as a kid it was always the same routine, with the tiredness and the snappiness, I should've come to the conclusion a hell of a lot earlier.

The clock on my bedside table read 1:34 in bold, red numbers, lighting up the otherwise pitch black room with a crimson ray. I'd gone to bed at 9:30, telling the lads that I was tired and just wanted to go to sleep. They'd been a little annoyed but they believed me, they had noticed my high temper throughout the day. 

We had a Harry Potter marathon planned, don't judge, you've all done it, but I think they carried on when I left.

I strained my ears and sure enough I could hear the low buzz of the TV and I was pretty sure I could hear crunching too.

After just laying there for some time more, I'm not sure how long,  gazing blankly at the ceiling and listening to the crunching from the other side of the house, I let out a long sign.

I rolled over and winced at the sudden pain in my skull. It had probably just been increasing slowly as I laid there but because of the stillness I couldn't feel it, well, not until I rolled over that is.

The pain was a mix between achy and throbbing and it kind of made me want to just chop my head right off.

Guillotine style.

I groaned, irritated and getting slightly mad. Mostly at myself, why did my body feel the need to make me sick right at this time? The irritation came from not being able to sleep no matter how hard I tried.

We had a live morning show interview, in barely six hours. Seven thirty in the morning. We had to be there before then though, so I was going to have to get up in five hours. 

The rest of the day was empty though, so we could catch up on the sleep we were all missing out on. I would need it especially, judging by how rough I was feeling.

After another half an hour of tossing around I decided that I wasn't going to get anywhere unless I took something to stop the thumping in my head, or just something to help me sleep. Both would be good.

I sighed and got out of bed. The minute I was on my feet I just wanted to sit back down.
 Instead I started for the kitchen where the medicine cabinet was.

I paused outside the lounge, knowing there would probably be questions.

I didn't wait too long, I just wanted to get back to bed. Nothing else mattered all that much.

I pushed the door open and the moment I stepped into the room three pairs of glowing eyes landed on me.

"Joining the party ay, Hazza? Come sit next to me!"