Sleeping on the tour bus was the only option for the last 3 nights of the tour. With the venue being located in London for the next 3 shows, the O2 arena to be exact, there was no point in travelling the 45 minutes from your home to the venue each evening. You knew all Harry wanted to do was go home, curl up in bed, and sleep for the next 3 weeks, because he was tired and homesick and he wanted some comfort in the things he loved; the things being the queen sized bed in your bedroom, the bath in your bathroom and the comfy garden chair he’d taken a liking to in the warm London weather.
When the tour managers had told the boys there was no point in going to their own London homes, their faces dropped and the immediate shine that was hidden in their orbs had disappeared. The tiredness soon kicking in. Even you and Sophia were feeling it. But the two of you had promised to start the tour with them and end the tour with them, so you couldn’t back away from it, even if you so desperately wanted too. The travelling wasn’t as easy upon your fiancé as it used to be when he was 17 and travelling with his mates. His back was playing up, and he was beginning to get bored with the ‘touring everyday lifestyle’. With his top priority being the wedding, that’s all he wanted to get done. He loved being in the band, and he loved travelling with his friends, and he mostly enjoyed being in the different countries and exploring the cities and the main attractions, but with the wedding being planned for 5 months time. With you hoping the July weather to be warm and perfect for a wedding with Harry.
As you cuddled back into the leather sofa of the tour bus, Harry’s jumper thrown over your upper body, the hood thrown over your head and your arms folded across your chest as your eyes closed, your mind couldn’t help but wander to how you wanted your special day with Harry to be carried out. You wanted hot weather, with not a cloud in the sky. You wanted him there, stood at the end of the alter, dressed all handsome in his suit and a beautiful little flower sitting in his lapel. You wanted your father to walk you down the aisle whilst Harry kept his eyes on you, his heart growing double in size. You wanted the perfect reception, where nothing went wrong.
And you knew Harry wanted the same.
He wanted you to actually walk down that aisle, and smile. Smile knowing that you’re getting married to him and you were becoming his ‘Missus Styles’. He wanted the flowers to be how you wanted them, and he wanted the reception to be how you wanted it, and he wanted you to have the best day of your life, and he wanted to make sure that the day ran smoothly. Because seeing you happy made him happy. He’d made a promise to himself, and your father, to make sure that you were happy, day in and day out. Every day of your life, even when you weren’t with him in person.
You could hear them running around outside the arena, beside the tour bus, with a football and the backing band running with them. You could hear grunts and cheers leaving their lips, with shoes scuffing along the floor and kicking a ball around the gravel. Sophia had popped out to get a few coffees and sandwiches for lunch, whilst you stayed on the bus and regained your strength from your small bout of illness that you’d had; a mixture between an upset tummy, sickness, and a stuffy nose and headache, leaving you to cuddle on the tour bus sofa for the last 2 nights you’d been home in London.
Harry had insisted he stayed with you during the days, but you wanted him to have a full two days where he’d get to see the boys before we he was tied down with wedding planning, where he wouldn’t have much time to see them. You knew they’d pop over every now and again, but they understood that you and Harry needed as much time alone as possible, to get everything sorted for July.
As you snuggled down beneath Harry’s blanket, the door creaked open and the sound of soft footsteps entered the tour bus, leaving you to think it was only Sophia coming back with the coffees and sandwiches. Your thoughts were wrong when you saw Louis crouch down beside the end of the sofa where your head laid, your eyes drooping shut from tiredness.
“Love, Harry wants to know if you’re okay. You want to come out for some fresh air? Get some fresh air into those lungs, yeah?” He suggested, as he folded his arms on the leather and placed his chin on his forearms. “Are you still feeling sick?” He wondered, as you shook your head and dug the heels of your sleeve covered hands into your eyes, and puffed your cheeks up.
“M’just tired. I feel better. I just want to feel refreshed for tonight, so I can come and celebrate the end of the tour with you guys. I don’t want to go straight home” You muttered, and lifted one hand, to look towards your best friend. “Can you tell Harry to come in here? Just… I want some cuddles with him. I can’t get to sleep” You whispered, and slowly sat up from your place.
“Of course I can, my lovely. We’ve got some cold water outside as well. Paul got them from the arena. It’s warm out there today” He chuckled, and stood up. His shoes scuffing along the carpet as he made his way back to the open door of the tour bus. “Haz, mate! She wants you” Louis called, stepping out the bus and onto the gravel beneath him. The sound of the football being kicked sounding around the confined space. “She says she wants to sleep but she can’t get comfy and wants you to cuddle with” You heard Louis mutter, and as soon as he’d finished his sentence, the sound of Harry’s boots came bounding across the gravel car park, and into the bus, his breathing out of place and his cheeks flushed.
“Baby, you okay? You feeling better? I got you some water. It’s cold. From the mini fridge Paul brought out” Harry smiled, as he kicked off his boots and made his way across the maroon coloured carpet and stood where your feet were crossed on the spare seat beside you. He let out a soft chuckle when he heard you groan, his hands curling around your sock covered feet and lifting them up so he could shuffle down behind you; his socks too big for your feet, but too comfortable to take off. “Come on, shuffle up. Let me lay with you” He whispered, and smiled when you shuffled onto your side and braced your hand to the floor to stop yourself from falling.
That was something he loved doing when you were sick. He liked to act as the big spoon, and he liked to wrap his arms around you and tuck his head into the crook of your neck, so his cheek was pressed against yours. No matter if you flushing hot, or sweating, you wouldn’t mind it. Because you loved to have him close to you. Much like Harry. He loved to know that when you were sick, you were safe in his arms, with his body acting as a protector to anything that could cause harm to your already weakened and sick state.
It was much like that when he was ill. He liked to act as the little spoon, curled up in the curve of your body as he laid his head on your chest. He liked to have the feeling of your fingers raking through his curls, your nails dragging along his scalp and making him let off a soft groan, his warm breath flushing against your naked collarbone and neck. You liked to wrap an arm around his half naked torso, and draw patterns into his skin; his skin that was covered in a very thin layer of sweat. He was a clingy sick person, but you couldn’t say no to his soft and weakened features because he looked like a child who just wanted endless cuddles.
“Were you winning out there?” You wondered, as you laced your fingers with the hand of his that was closest to your face. The rings on his fingers discarded and sitting in your make-up bag in your suitcase located at the back of the bus, just in case you needed something essential from there; such as pills or pads and tampons, as Harry thought it was your ‘time of the month’ beginning.
“I wasn’t playing. I’m not feeling too good myself, babe. I think I’m getting your tummy bug” He chuckled softly, and cupped your hip with his free hand, his fingertips soft and gentle against your skin showing. The blanket of his balled up by your feet, your legs on show from the old pair of loose boxers you’d stole from Harry to use as sleep shorts. “I don’t think I’ll be drinking tonight. Gemma’s promised she’ll come and pick us up when we want, and take us home” He muttered against the nape of your neck, the stray hairs falling from your ponytail tickling his upper lip.
A sigh left your lips as he kissed your neck, his nose nuzzling against your head. He hitched a leg over your thighs, and hooked it underneath yours, pulling your body closer to him, like he was in some need for warmth.
“I’ve got some sickness pills in my make-up bag, if you want them. They helped me. Stopped me from feeling sick” You smiled, and pressed your lips to the dip between his thumb and forefinger, just above the cross tattoo on his hand. Your lips lingering longer than normal, as he yawned and closed his eyes.
“I’ll be fine. Let’s just have a sleep, and I’ll should feel better” Harry whispered, the feeling of his lips against your neck as he spoke sending butterflies around your body. “Love you, babe. Sleep well.”
* *
He was still asleep, cuddled up to himself on the sofa when you emerged from the small toilet at the back of the bus. With you waking up near 15 minutes ago, you’d thought he’d wake up due to the loss of human contact, but he was still parched out, and snoring away. Niall had poked his head round from his bunk, obviously coming in to take a quick break from their small game of football, a soft smile on his face as he took in your refreshed and healthy-looking appearance.
“Someone’s looking better this evening, missy” He chuckled, as he rolled out and stood up, reaching for his shoes. “I think the lot of us are heading into the arena to get ready. You want to wake your lover boy up?” He smirked, and dropped his shoes to the floor, the bang echoing around the bus.
“Hmm… That’s not good. He’s never happy when he gets woken up. He has to rouse up himself” You laughed, and shuffled into the lounge area of the bus, snores leaving Harry’s nose as he turned on his other side, his back facing you. “You do it. He’ll get mad at me, and I don’t like it when he’s angry with me” You stated, as Niall rolled his eyes and threw his pillow from his bunk at him.
“Will you piss off?” came from Harry’s mouth as he knocked the pillow from his face, and let it fall to the floor beside the sofa. “Can I not sleep in peace, for fuck sake” He hissed, and straightened out, rolling back onto his back and covering his eyes with his hands.
“Baby, you got to get going into the arena now. To get all pretty and showered” You smiled, and sat beside his legs, reaching for his boots that were situated at the end of the sofa. “I know you’re tired, handsome. Just got one more show, yeah? Then we can go home and cuddle in our bed, and sleep for the next year” You grinned, and turned your back to him, grabbing his ankle and sliding his boot on.
“I don’t want to sleep for the next year. We won’t get married then” He pouted, giggling softly when you reached for his other ankle, and accidentally grazed the bottom of his foot. “That tickles. You know I’m ticklish” He smirked, as you pushed the boot onto his other foot and tapped his calf muscle softly.
“I’d marry you tomorrow if I could, H. But you and I both know we want a nice big white wedding” You winked, and stood up, holding your hands out towards him. The feeling of his arm hands engulfing yours making you smile widely, and with all your strength, you pulled the towering 6 foot man up to his feet. “Come on, H. Let’s get inside that arena” You pressed on, and squeezed his hand tightly.
“I’m not feeling so good, babe…” He muttered, as you started walking out the tour bus, your fingers reaching for the light switch to turn the lights off. “Can I be sick?” He muttered, as you abruptly turned to face your paling fiancé, and gulped softly. “I’m serious…” He whispered, as he dropped his hand from yours, and brushed past you. His feet carrying him out the tour bus and round the hidden area behind it, the sounds of retching and vomit filtering around.
“Oh, Harry…” You whispered, walking out the bus, seeing him hunched over and puking into the bush. “Hey, it’s okay. Get it all up. It’s probably just excitement, yeah? You’re excited, I know you are” You smiled, and brought his long curls from his face, rubbing his back soothingly as he continued to throw up his empty stomach.
Soon enough, he straightened up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a groan leaving his lips as he tried to walk towards the arena. “M’ready to go inside. Just want to go home” He muttered, and weakly fell into your side, your arms holding him up from around his waist.
“Come on, lovebirds! We’re heading in now!”
* *
You remembered how he was fine one minute, and a wobbling mess the next. You were stood beside Lottie as you conversed about her latest fashion trend on Love Clothing, catching up from the last 2 days of not seeing one another. Sophia was sat in the chair beside you, her hands clapping along the music as Liam pranced across the stage, sending her a quick wink before going into his solo. Harry was much more lethargic when he manoeuvred around the stage, his legs were visibly wobbling and his cheeks were flushing then paling, his voice straining slightly when he came to sing.
As the last chord to What Makes You Beautiful ended, you could tell Harry was feeling displeased and disheartened by his performance, and you knew he wasn’t feeling well. He was beginning to lose focus and it was beginning to worry you. As Through The Dark continued playing, he started to walk towards where you were stood, only to be pushed back through his dizziness and he fell. A bang of his boots only slightly audible over the loud music, his body plummeting to the floor of the stage, his body hidden by speakers and out of your sight. Sophia immediately looked to you, a worried look on her face, as you began to rush forward, panicking and trying to push through the fans as you tried to get to Preston.
As you were amidst the crowd of screaming and laughing fans, Harry soon stood up, a smirk on his face as he walked over to where his fallen microphone stand was laying on the floor. You shook your head, and let out an angry puff of air you huffed back to the place where Sophia and Lottie were stood, soft smirks on their faces.
“That wasn’t funny. He’s so going to get a talking to later” You muttered, falling into the empty seat beside Sophia, and folding your arms. By the way Harry was searching the crowd where the three of you were sat, you could tell he was looking for you. And when his eyes caught your angry glare, his smirk disappeared, and a guilty look crossed his features, and you knew he didn’t mean it on purpose. “He was sick earlier on. He’s worrying me, okay?”
“Go and tell Preston. Or Paul. They need to know, in case he has another sickness round of stage. That won’t be pretty” Lottie suggested, as you shook your head. “They’ll understand. He needs to take it easy. Jesus, that tumble was bad” She added, as you covered your face and groaned loudly.
“I’ll leave it until he starts getting worse. If he’s finding it difficult to sing, I’ll go and get one of them. It’s too difficult to get through the crowd. They immediately push you back when you’re trying to get through” You sighed, and looked to Sophia as she gave your knee a quick squeeze.
“He’ll be fine, babe. He’s done this before…”
You seriously hoped he wouldn’t have a sickness round on stage, because you knew he’d take it to heart. He was already disheartened by his fall, and his ‘bad’ performance, you could tell, and added with the sickness on stage, you knew he’d feel worse about it. He wanted to power through for the fans, because they paid to see the four of them, not just three of them. He was the fan favourite, you knew that, but you’d rather have them be angry at him than he embarrasses himself on stage.
* *
As Niall brought out his electric guitar, you knew the final song was about to play, and as the chords to Best Song Ever began to sound around the stadium, you immediately tried to rush backstage. Preston catching you as he chased you through the corridors back to the room backstage, where you kept your bottle of water and a few sickness pills just in case he needed them.
“(Y/N), you rushed back quickly. Are you okay? Harry said you weren’t feeling well these past 2 days” Preston wondered, as he stepped into the room, worried eyes on his face. “Do you need me to tell him you’re heading back to the bus? I’m sure he’ll understand” He added, as you shook your head and burst past him and out down the corridor of the O2.
“He’s sick, Preston. I need to give him these pills. He was sick before we came in here” You muttered, slowing down as he caught up to you. “He said he didn’t feel well earlier, and he came in and slept for a few hours. He got groggy when he woke up, and he was sick when we exited the bus. Preston, I need to give them to him” You panicked, worry in your voice as he cupped your shoulders in his hands. You could tell he was going to protest against it, but you knew that your fiancé needed them. They didn’t understand. “Preston, he needs to come off stage, now” You ordered, your feet taking you off again, down the corridor and out the backstage doors at the end.
As you bound around the corner, you managed to witness as Harry made his way to where his water bottle was placed by the speaker by Josh’s drum set. His eyes closed and his hands shaking violently, his knees knocking together. As you made your way to him, he hunched over and spilled his stomach contents, regret filling his eyes as he looked up and groaned. The fans cooing and shrieking as missed his solo, the camera zooming into him.
“For god sake! Harry, get back here, baby! It’s better for you to come back here!” You called, as he looked up, his eyes watering and a few tears dribbling down his cheeks. “Come on, baby. Come on. It’s okay!” You called over the music of Josh’s drums, his wobbly legs carrying him backstage and into your awaiting arms. “It’s okay, baby. Don’t worry. It’s okay” You whispered into his ear, as he let out a humongous sob against your shoulder, his wet cheeks dampening your t-shirt.
“I’m sorry…” He hiccupped, his arms wrapped around you tightly as your occupied hands did the best they could at soothing him. His body wracking and shaking as he cried onto your shoulder. “I want to go home. I just want to go home” He whispered, his voice hoarse and cracking slightly. You kept your arm wrapped tightly around him as you extended the pills towards his hand and watched as he gladly took them, inserting them into his mouth and immediately gulping them down with water.
“Careful, baby…”
“Can we just go home? Call Gemma and take us home. I’m tired, and I want to be sick in our bathroom, not this weird and strange one” He begged, as you made your way through the backstage area, the clean-up crew and the structural team standing to the side with sympathetic looks on their faces, some wishing him a get well soon and another offering him an empty bucket, something he gladly took.
“Come on then, H. Let’s get you home. Cuddled in bed. The lads will understand” You whispered, pushing open the doors to the quiet corridor backstage, leading up to the dressing room.
* *
“Harry, mate. Get well soon, yeah? We’ll pop over in the week and see how you are” Liam smiled, patting Harry on the back, and giving him a soft hug. “You take care of him, (Y/N). Although, you do so much for him anyway, so I’m sure he’ll be as right as rain in a couple of days” He smiled, looking over Harry’s shoulder at your slumped figure, both yours and Harry’s suitcases beside you, the time ticking by for Gemma to come and pick you up.
“She’s wonderful. She’s my personal nurse” Harry grinned weakly, and unwrapped his arms from Liam, adjusting the beanie on his head and pulling the sleeves of his hoodie down over his hands. “I’ll be fine. I think it was just a one off” He smiled, as he threw an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his body.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry like that before” Louis chuckled, as he emerged from behind the tour bus, his suitcase handle in his hand as he dragged it along the gravel. “Seriously though, get well soon. Yeah? Make sure your missus takes care of you” He smiled, as pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“I’ll take care of him, don’t you guys worry. He’ll be back on his feet in no time at all” You smiled, and gave Niall a soft hug. “See you, Niall. It’s been fun hanging around this time with you” You giggled, as he pressed a kiss to your cheek and nudged his nose into the corner of your eye.
“M’gonna miss ye’, (Y/N). I’m coming to visit you every other day. No ifs, ands or buts” He chuckled, as he ran off to the back of the bus.
“Nothing like inviting yourself around” Sophia laughed, as she stood in front of you, and pulled you in for a tight hug. “You, missus, I am going to miss you so much. You promise to come out for lunch with me, and we can organise double dates and go to spas together. I need to help you with wedding planning, so…” She sent you a wink and a cheeky grin as she pulled away from you, her hands rubbing your arms up and down. “We’re going to head off now. I’ll call you when I get in, and see when our next girly day out is” She giggled, and took Liam’s awaiting hand.
As a car came bundling round the corner, you felt Harry’s palm get sweaty, and his stomach churned rather loudly. Something that didn’t sound right to neither of you. He looked down at you, his eyes widening as you held the plastic bag out for him, his head immediately tucking down. You gulped back your dreadful feeling, and waited for him to finish, the bag getting heavier and heavier. As you watched the car come to a stop, you could make out Gemma’s figure behind the wheel, the window squeaking down.
“That’s it, baby bro. Get it up. Don’t have a sickness bout in my car. This is new…”

Notes