Chapter 11

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Harry:

I just sit there, my head in my hands, feeling awful. Whatever's wrong with my throat, it's gotten ten times worse after that row with Taylor. Every time I breathe, the back of my throat burns, and my head aches painfully now too. That was the second time today Taylor slammed a door in my face, and it hurt more each time. The most painful thing, though, is thinking over everything I said to her.

I managed, in about the space of a minute, to say not only that I loved another woman, but also that her boyfriend was heartless and rude, and that he didn't love anyone, including her.

I cough again, and it sounds weak and croaky, but I'm aching more inside now. The sore throbbing in my head increases, and I groan quietly before hefting myself back onto the bed and closing my eyes.

I hear a door creak, and I know instantly that Taylor's watching me through the crack in the door. I cover my eyes with my hands dramatically, coughing louder now that I can tell she still cares.

She stays put though, probably still thinking I haven't noticed her peering out at me. I sit up again so she can clearly see my face, and look hurt. At this, she eases open the door further, wanting me to notice her now, and I turn to her. Smiling sadly, I say the first word to break the silence.

"Hey."

This is followed by a few too many seconds of intense coughing for her to ignore, so I turn away from her as I wheeze, not wanting it to look like I want her attention.

I get it, though. All of it, in fact. She scrambles out of her position behind the door straight away, and runs to my side, instantly placing her hand on my feverish forehead. I shiver as her hand touches me, and she takes this as a bad sign, gasping at me and probably feeling terrible for yelling at me earlier. The modesty in me takes over and I say,

"You don't-I- I'm fine. I-"

But I catch my reflection in the mirror and immediately know I'm not. My complexion is sickly pale, and my raspy voice probably doesn't help with my point very much either. Taylor's still inspecting me worriedly, reaching my hands now. I pull my eyes away from the mirror and look down at them. They're sweaty and shaky and just as pale as the rest of me.

I suddenly remember something.

I have to fly to London next week, and I realise that getting sick is really not an option. But just as I'm having that thought, a sharp pain smacks me in the forehead, and I wince as my vision suddenly goes blurry.

It's Taylor's voice, sounding panicky, that eventually causes my vision to clear. I focus on her face as I push the sickly feeling rising in my stomach out of my mind.

"Harry? Are you okay? I'm so sorry about saying all those things before- HARRY!"

She sees me looking straight at her, and shoots me a relieved smile, quickly leaning forward and kissing me lightly on the forehead before I can zone out again. When she leans back, I notice her face and frown instantly.

She looks incredibly worked up, her eyes glassy and red, and she squeezes my hand tightly more to calm herself than me. She's much closer to me now and is studying my face guardedly, and I can tell that the hangover from the award show still hasn't completely left her yet. But the focus is on me right now, not her, so I let her arms slide around my neck as she plants another kiss, on my nose this time, before whispering now,

"Harry...?"

I meet her eyes to let her know I'm listening. I can't afford to not listen after everything I said earlier.

"There's a Walmart near here, right? So...I'll go out in a bit and get you something for your throat. The hacking is unbearable,"

"Taylor- you, you don't-"

She cuts me off with a soft kiss on my open lips. It's not much but it's our best kiss so far, small and meaningful. I run my hands through her freshly-washed hair (that must've been what she was doing whilst I was out here dying of sickness) but it doesn't go any further than that, and I know it must be because we still haven't actually resolved our fight from earlier on, but she winks at me teasingly anyways.

"Hey, and make sure you grab some more of that shampoo too. You smell gorgeous."

My voice is much weaker than hers, even though she was whispering, but she somehow understands and smiles again, before standing up and squeezing my hand one last time.

As I watch her long legs stride out of the room, I place my hands on the back of my head and lay against the bed's soft surface, and it suddenly seems much easier to settle down now that me and Taylor are on good terms again. I close my eyes and, in seconds, am sound asleep.

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