Harry: “[Y/N]…,” Harry droned out from the couch, his deep voice even deeper and raspier with strep throat. “Harry!” You gently chided, coming in from the kitchen with a bowl of soup. “You’re not allowed to be talking,” you raised your eyebrows at him, putting his soup on the side table. Harry made some kind of muffled noise and closed his eyes, laying back down. You knew how miserable he felt, and you hated seeing him this way. “C’mere,” you squatted down and pressed the back of your hand to his forehead. “Still warm.” You pursed your lips, thinking for a second, before throwing caution to the wind and climbing onto the couch with Harry. You pulled him into your lap and kissed his head. He nuzzled into you, smiling. “You just wanted cuddles, didn’t you?” You giggled quietly, and Harry nodded, falling asleep.
Zayn: “Zayn…?” You sat up in bed, not being able to find your boyfriend. Normally, nothing would disturb Zayn from sleep, but he’d been sick with the flu lately, getting sick so often he just stayed awake, sitting near the bathroom. You couldn’t find him, so you got out of bed and went looking for him. You found Zayn nearly asleep again, curled up next to the bathtub in your bathroom. It nearly broke your heart. “Zayn?” You whispered quietly, and he stirred. You moved over to him, picking him up off the floor and getting him back to bed. You fetched a cool cloth for his head and got him some aspirin, gently playing with his hair while you laid next to him in bed. “Love you…,” he murmured into the pillows, falling back asleep.
Louis: Achoo. Achoo. ACHOO! Louis was sitting on the couch in your living room, completely miserable with a cold. You walked in from the kitchen, holding a mug of his favorite Yorkshire Tea. “Here, Lou,” you sat down next to him, amongst a sea of tissues and gently rubbed his back while he sipped from the mug. “Tank yew,” Lou sniffled again, his stuffy nose making his voice sound thick. “I hate tis,” he sniffled again, throwing his head back on the couch cushions. “Come on,” you stood up, grabbing his hands and walking him to the bathroom. You made him sit on the toilet, shutting the door and turning the shower on high and hot. The steam flooded the bathroom, making Lou’s breathing easier. “Thank you,” he sighed, leaning his head against you, “Again.”
Liam: “I’m not sick,” Liam stumbled out of bed, moving towards the closet to try and change. “Liam,” you got out of bed, following him, “You are not going to work.” “Yes,” he nearly blindly stumbled out of the closet, holding a pair of trousers, “I am.” You walked over to Liam, feeling his temperature, “Christ! Liam, you’re burning up. You hardly slept last night. You need to get some sleep.” “No.” He stated bluntly, before gripping onto the bed post for support. You snatched his phone, quickly dialing Zayn. “Zayn? It’s [Y/N]. Liam’s sick. He’s not coming in.” Liam opened his mouth, but you gently pushed him back into the bed and kissed his forehead. “I’ll be back with some cocoa.”
Niall: “How… Why… Christ.” Niall was hunched over a toilet, cursing the sushi that you and him had shared the night before. “It’s called food poisoning, Ni,” you rubbed his back gently. “How come you don’t have it?” “Because I don’t eat raw foods.” You helped him stand up and brush his teeth, getting him a cold cloth and helping him lay down in bed. “Food betrayed me,” he moaned dramatically. You giggled, kissing his forehead. “You’re going to be fine, Niall. And probably eating Nando’s in just a few more hours. Okay?” Niall rolled over in bed, opening up his arms, “Cuddle?” You giggled, climbing in with him. “Love you.” “Love you more.”