1D One Shots

What About Me?

Louis P.O.V.

It has been absolute chaos in the One Direction household. Both Niall and Harry have come down sick and Liam has his school soccer games because we're on break. It's just so much! Not to mention that Liam has been misbehaving. He thinks Niall and Harry are both faking sick. I doubt they'd do that. Harry's been real cuddly lately and that only happens when he's either sick or after he's gotten a spanking. I think Liam's just upset because both Zayn and I are juggling the two ill children so we can't attend his soccer games. I feel bad, I am so proud of him for making the team and all but, I can't be in two places at once. As the oldest he should know that. I shook the thoughts from my mind as I poured the soup into two separate bowls for Niall and Harry before taking it upstairs to mine and Zayn's room. We figured it'd be best to keep them in the same room, we wouldn't have to go between rooms this way. I opened the door and entered with a soft smile.

"How are my babies feeling today?" I coo at the two boys laying on the pushed together bed or beds really. Harry groans as he sits up. I was thinking that it could probably be the flu but, strangely, neither of them have shown signs of a fever or have thrown up. Maybe it was just a bad cold. I dismissed the thought and served them their food. I was about to go downstairs and maybe spend some time with Liam until Harry stopped me.

"Mama, will you feed me my soup? I'm tired." He whines.

"Of course Kitten." I smile, ushering for Sassy to move over toward Harry's feet so I can sit. Liam can wait, he'll understand.

Liam's P.O.V.

Mama had just went upstairs to give Niall and Harry their food. I know that they're faking it for attention. So far I haven't said anything. It's not worth getting a spanking for but, my common sense was wearing thin as this charade continued. They've been playing sick for bout three days, demanding all the attention of Mama and Daddy. I was sick of it. Ha, get it? No! I'm supposed to be angry.

I started to wonder where Mama was. He promised he'd give those fakers their soup and then come right back down so we could go outside and kick the ball around. I soon grew impatient waiting by the door with my ball. I jogged up the stairs and into the bedroom only to see Mama feeding Harry!

"Open wide Kitten, here comes the choo choo." He coo's imitating the sound of a train as he brings the spoon closer to Harry's open mouth. Harry giggles and sips the soup from the spoon before swallowing. He smiles seeing me in the room.

"Hi Liam!" I ignore him.

"Mama, you promise we could go kick the ball around." I complain.

"Liam, sweetheart, I have to make sure Harry eats. Why don't you see if Daddy will play with you." Of course, it's been this way for the past few days. Mama blowing me off to take care of the fakers.

"Daddy isn't here, 'member? The funeral." I remind. His father had passed away a week ago. I was quite worried about him. My thoughts went elsewhere when my eyes fell upon Niall. He was feeding himself! Why couldn't Harry?! Niall seemed to be enjoying the soup a little too much, as he scarfed it down. Didn't people who were sick have weak appetites?

"Liam, honey, I need to take care of Harry and Niall. Why don't you go practice shooting some goals in the net and I'll try and join you soon?" He suggests.

"Fine" I huff, turning on my heel and stalking out of the room. I stormed outside into the backyard and set the ball on the ground a few feet from the goal. Daddy suggested it a whole after Harry came home and everything calmed down. Mama was immediately on board with the idea, wanting to support me as much as possible. What happened to that? Anger ignites in my body, my heart, as I give a frustrated and furious kick to the black and white checkered sphere, sending it into the top right corner. The ball smacked the net with a satisfying swish. If only I had a goalie to practice more effectively with. I retrieved the ball from the net and continued making shots into the goal. Sometime changing it up by dribbling the ball and then shooting. Alternating places in the goal. Upper left, upper right, anywhere I could if a goalie were to be in there defending. I stopped after a while, sitting down and breathing heavily. Sweat rolling down the back of my neck. I was thirsty, I could probably drink a lake I was so dehydrated. I slowly walked to the house and as I was entering the door, Mama was coming out.