Louis woke up feeling like shit. The worst of the bug had passed, at least that's what he thought. He'd been camped out on the bathroom floor for the past two days, and last night he'd managed to sleep in the bed without vomiting--just extreme muscle weakness.

He reached blindly for his phone, groaning as he rolled into his side to try and find it. Of course, it wasn't on the side table where he'd left it--instead, it was on the floor.

Bending over, he once again felt extreme nausea come barreling over him.

Oh fuck, he thought, leaping out of bed and running into the bathroom quicker than he would have ever imagined possible.

He had hardly bent over when he coughed, and one look at the toilet made his brain flood with flashbacks of the past two days. It only took seconds for him to start vomiting again, and he slowly sank to his knees.

He flushed the toilet and steadied his breath before resting his head on the seat. It felt cool against his cheek, and he realized he was sweating.

Fuck, he thought again, gripping the toilet and struggling to his feet to fumble for the thermometor that he had left at the sink.

101.5, he chewed his lip. He felt considerably better after throwing up, despite the fact that it was mostly stomach acid. His stomach had been empty for days. His fever wasn't too bad.

His stomach rolled again, and he heaved over the toilet for the millionth time in the past 72 hours.

He spat heavily before flushing the toilet and starting up the shower. He spent half an hour there, alternately having hot flashes or shivering violently. When he got out he was surprised his fever had gone down, and he brushed his teeth before toweling his hair and drying off his body. He stood at the toilet, did his business amd got dressed. He grimaced at the shirt he had left in the corner the other day, decidedly stained. He wouldn't bother trying to clean it at this point.

When he got back to the room he turned on the television and crouched for his phone. Looking at the bed he flopped down, immediately getting a sense of relief from the cool touch of the pillow.

You up yet?

Yes?

Ooh, question marks. How I love your indecisiveness.

I'm at work.

What's your job?

Uh . . . I'm a waitress. And a waitress . . . And I babysit . . . And work at the coffeehouse. Did we already cover this?

No? Truth be told, I don't remember.

Still sick?

Yes. I'm feeling a bit better though.

That's good. When you coming to the States?

Tomorrow morning.

What's your hometown?

A place you'll never have heard of from a state we like to call Mississippi.

Yeah I think I've heard of it, it's a quaint little place. ;)

Ah so you have heard of it.

What are you doing?

Hello?

Louis?

I have the tv on. Boss Baby. Cuteness called.

Yes, I said Boss Baby, and I hold no shame.

Aw, a man with a soft heart. Do you go all melty with the wittle booger-y bed-wetters?

-_-

Don't you like kids?

Haha yes

I'm an only child.

I say that like it makes sense--like I have to explain.

Maybe you do

Or maybe I just like your talking.

Wait til you hear my voice talking. ;)

I have YouTube

You're so boring

Entertain me, peasant. ^_^

Uh yeah, no, not going to happen.

Sorry

Fine, I have a soft spot for kids.

I openly admit it

Most men won't, you know

Be grateful for it, woman.

Women. Most confusing creatures on Earth.

You know us women could say the same about men.

And I'm sure you do.

We do.

Acceptable. I too am sometimes confused by the mind of the male.

Stop making me laugh, I'm going to get in trouble!

Stop texting me at work then!

You're sick and alone; I feel bad!

I'm mostly okay, honest.

Alright, tell me then. Symptoms. I demand them.

Okay, nurse.

Louis. . .

Threw up twice and have a fever.

Much better than last night.

I told you so.

Smart-ass.

I want to meet you.

Like, in person.

I want your phone number.

Why?

Because you're fun to talk to.

And. . .

Shit I tried to delete that. Why so you have to be so quick checking your messages? Are you ever off your phone?

Yes but I went into the bathroom so I could have a couple minutes alone without men hollering "lady, I need more mayo!"

I envy you.

Seriously?

Nope.

So I'm fun to talk to 'and. . .'?

And. . .

And what?

And you're cute.