Conditional Love

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Summary: Harry is soft and sensitive, and Louis cares for him a lot.

Request from RileyStylinson28 :) thank you for this idea! I hope it's close to what you had in mind xx

Content Warning
Mention of self harm scars (during one part)

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The screams rattle inside Harry's pounding head, nearly making him dizzy as he jogs off stage.

Being in the world's biggest boy band definitely has its perks, but it also has its downsides. One of those disadvantages is that the show must go on, even when one member has a pesky cold.

Harry makes a bee-line to the bathroom, which is more similar to a locker room; he picks up a small tote bag from his dressing room on the way. He toes off his dark brown Chelsea boots, then peels off his black skinny jeans and sweaty black t-shirt. The tiled floor is cool against his warm feet, as is the first of the water that comes out of the shower head.

"Ugh, fuck," the sick boy whines, arching his back away from the stream of water until it warms up. He tries pulling the white shower curtain as far apart as he can; he even tries getting the sides wet so they can stick to the walls, to no avail.

His shower is short and unpleasant, more for freshening up after the show than for relaxation. He pulls a towel from his tote bag and pats his body dry, wrapping it around his waist before retrieving his travel-sized bottle of body wash from the corner of the small shower. When he picks up his near-empty tote bag, he tilts his head to the ceiling and lets out a long sigh.

Still huffing and rolling his eyes, he dials Louis' number and stands by the shower as his phone rings.

"Hello?" Louis answers after the fourth ring.

"Hi. I forgot my clothes bag. Can you please bring it to me? I just got out of the shower," he explains. The shower evidently did nothing for his congestion, because he still sounds nasally.

"Yup. Coming right up," Louis answers enthusiastically like he is a server at a restaurant. Minutes later, he softly knocks on the bathroom door before poking his head in.

"You can come in," Harry says. Louis slips in, making sure the door shuts behind him so Harry can get dressed in private.

"Oh, look at you," Louis frowns, setting Harry's backpack down on the counter before addressing more important matters. "Your lips are nearly blue, and you're shivering! Poor thing." He pulls Harry into a hug, quickly rubbing his back in an attempt to warm him up.

"It's my cold," Harry says when they pull away. He goes to his backpack, pulling his boxer briefs up his chilly legs before discarding the towel on the counter. He bundles up in his spare outfit, which consists of one of Louis' hoodies and his own black sweatpants. Lastly, he pulls a pair of crew socks on his feet, leaning against the counter for balance.

"Any warmer?" Louis wonders. Harry simply shrugs as he pulls the hood over his dry hair (he didn't want to have wet hair for the rest of the night). The younger boy gathers his things and tiptoes out of the bathroom, avoiding any puddles of water so he doesn't get his socks wet. Louis smiles as he watches Harry navigate the bathroom, hopping over small puddles like they are landmines.

When they get to Harry's dressing room, he puts on a pair of moccasin slippers. He normally wears his moccasins exclusively on the tour bus or in hotel rooms, but he wants to be as comfortable as possible today, since he feels achy, chilly, and he has a sinus headache. "There's my old man," Louis jokes, and Harry simply purses his lips. "You okay?" He wonders, since Harry usually laughs at his jokes, or at least gives him an acknowledging smile.

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