One Direction Sickfics + Hurt Imagines

51| Sick And The Boys Don't Believe Him (Niall)

Request from : Peki_H
Hope you enjoy !

It's one thing to feel ill, but it's another to feel ill and have no one believe you. 

Niall didn't know what to do with himself — one moment he was absolutely sweating, skin itching and red hot to touch. The next, he was shivering, body completely numb.

It was an on and off cycle of sickness, and all he could do was mope around hopelessly in bed whilst the boys suspected he was just being lazy.

The sound of cutlery clashing and chairs scraping the wooden floor told Niall that the boys were enjoying breakfast together. Usually, he would be one of the first down, eager for a good pick of the food displayed.

Now, as his stomach churned something awful and his eyes watered at just the slight whiff of bacon, he supposed it'd be best he stayed where he was.

Of course, that was momentarily.

Niall's somewhat relaxation of being buried beneath his blankets was soon disrupted by the rather loud shout from Zayn; he was calling him down to eat breakfast.

Not wanting to be seen as rude, Niall forced himself to sit up, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed, willing himself the strength to stand up. Besides, maybe if he went down now, they boys would take in his poor look and care for him for the day.

Heaving a sigh, and standing with shaky legs, Niall muttered a curse under his breath. He felt ever so weak, limbs feeling all spaghetti like. It wasn't too great.

Pulling at the neck of his shirt, that seemed to be almost too overheated, despite the colder temperature of the house, Niall headed towards the bathroom.

He thought it decent of him to not sit downstairs looking a complete mess, although he was unsure how he could fix his sickly physique.

Staring back at him in the mirror was pale skin, blemished cheeks and icy blue eyes. Dark circles were engraved beneath light brown eyelashes, those seemed to be the only source of strong colour.

Slightly bending closer to the sink, Niall splashed his face with some cold water. It was refreshing in a way — definitely woke him up, that was for sure.

Yet, as he stood up, unfortunately too quickly for his body to comprehend, his vision turned fuzzy.

Within seconds, Niall found himself seated in front of the porcelain toilet bowl, breathing uneven and heart pounding heavily in his chest.

With gasps and splutters, everything from his stomach soon came up, bile burning the back of his throat as it did so.

It was a matter of minutes later that he was standing up again, clearing his throat continuously and hating the aches that now sat in his knees.

"Niall!"

He heard someone shout, brain still too hectic to understand who it was.

"Yeah, yeah I'm coming down now.." his words faltered and sounded horribly scratchy. He hated how his voice broke a couple times.

Sighing again, he looked back into the mirror. Great. Now his eyes were red and bloodshot, lips red-bitten and skin fairer than ever.

Cupping mouthfuls of tap water into his mouth to rid of the horrid, stale taste, Niall then left to meet the boys in the kitchen.