The Housekeeper [h.s.]

Hangover

"Lucy! Hurry, I need a bucket!" I heard Zayn shouting from his room. 

I ran to the little junk room and got the bright red bucket and poured some water in it just to make the puke a bit less disgusting since it was mixed with water. 

"Lucy, hurry the fuck up!"

I realized putting water in it wasn't such a good idea. If I was that close to puking, I would've killed the person who did that to me. Zayn was holding his hands in front of his mouth to keep his disgusting vomit from sloshing out all over the room when I got back. I quickly put the bucket down by his bed. Then it all gushed out. Yuck. When he was done, he lay back in his bed and groaned. I felt kind of sorry for him. Didn't really know why. He was always being an arse against me. I guess that just wasn't enough to despise him.

"Lucy. Can you come here, please," I heard a graspy voice say. 

I went to Harrys room and saw him lying curled up like a burrito under his duvet. But he looked awful. 

"Oh, hi. Uhm, could you get me a cold cloth please?" His politeness made me smile. 

"Of course, Mr. Styles." He looked at me confused. Then I remembered. "Oh! Sorry. Harry." He smiled at me. I hurried to the bathroom and got a cloth and soaked it with cold water and twisted it to get some of the water off. My mind was rather confused. How could he have a hangover? He didn't seem drunk at all last night. Maybe that's how he acts when he's drunk. No, there's no way. I had to ask.

"Sorry it took so long," I apologized as soon as I walked in to Harrys room. 

He shook his head to assure me that it wasn't anything to worry about. I put the damped cloth down on his forehead. He made a sound of comfort. Then he looked up at me with his crystal green eyes and smiled. "Thanks, Lucy." 

I smiled back. Then I remembered what I was going to ask him about. "Uhm, so is this a-" 

"Hangover?" He said. "No, it's not. I think I've got a fever." 

I looked at him sorrily. "Aw, that's not good." 

He shook his head. Then he smiled. "That means you will have to keep an extra eye on me for the next days. Is that okay?" He grinned at me, and I felt myself blushing. I really hoped he couldn't tell. But apparently he could, because a big chuckle came out of his mouth. 

"Well, I have to get back to work!" I said quickly, feeling really uncomfortable in Harry's company. As I was about to leave I felt a hand grab mine. Harry looked at me with sad eyes. 

"Sorry, didn't mean to make you feel that way." He was still holding on to my hand, and I didn't really know what to do. 

"Eh, it's okay. I'm just a socially awkward person, that's all." 

"That's all". Like that was no big deal. I hated being socially awkward. I couldn't even talk to my aunt or uncle without blushing. Harry let go of my hand. I went out to the livingroom and started cleaning again.

It was Friday in the evening. All day I had been running around from room to room and taking care of all the boys. Well, almost all of the boys. Not Harry. Not once had he asked for me. The boys were sleeping, so I decided to check up on Harry to see if he was okay. As he said himself, I had to keep an extra good eye on him for the next days. I felt myself blushing again. 

Gosh, you're such a pain in the ass sometimes.

I knocked on his door. No answer. Suddenly I got worried. What if something had happened to him? Maybe his fever had gotten worse? I quietly opened the door and found him still curled up, sleeping like he was the most peaceful person alive. I smiled to myself. He was so adorable. Okay, I know being called "adorable" isn't exactly a man's dream, but he couldn't hear me either way so who cares. I was just about to close the door and leave, when Harry's sleepy voice stopped me.

"Lucy?" 

I turned around. He looked so tired. Poor thing. 

"Could you bring me a shirt of mine? It's freezing in here." 

Shit, his fever must've raised, cause it was really hot in here. "Of course." 

I went over to his closet where I knew he had them, and picked out the one I thought looked the most comfortable for him to wear. I knew Harry loved this one. It was this purple, knitted sweater that he wore one day when the boys were having a relaxing day inside with a lot of movies and junk food. So that says a lot. I took it out of the closet, and put it on Harrys night-table. Then I turned to walk out. 

"Uhm, would you mind putting it on for me? I don't think I can manage", Harry asked nicely. How could I say no? 

"Of course, Harry" I answered him and started unfolding the sweater. He sat up and I could see that he wasn't wearing anything but his trousers. 

"No wonder you're freezing," I said. His tattoos were put so perfectly on his chest and arms, and they went along with his six-pack. I caught myself staring at Harrys stomach. I didn't think he noticed, though, because he just sat there waiting for me to put his sweater on him. I got his head through the sweater whole, and the rest he managed himself. 

"Thanks, Lucy. You're very nice, and smart, and pretty-" 

Then he was gone, probably on his way to dreamland. Poor boy. I put my hand on his forehead. It was piping hot. I put a glass of ice cold water on his table and damped his cloth again till he woke up. I silently got out of his room, and the yelling from the other boys was the first thing I had to deal with.