"Aw, my poor baby." I coo as I fall to the bed. Colton groans slightly but moves his head over to my lap and attaches himself like a monkey to my leg.

I place the back of my hand on his forehead and then pull it back.

"You're still quite hot."

"I know, have you seen these abs-" but he's interrupted by his own coughing fit. I hand him the glass of water from the bedside table.

"Good to see your ego's still intact." I chuckle slightly.

Poor Colton's sick, the last few shows I could see him deteriorating, especially his voice, it was getting much more hoarse and it sounded painful but this morning he woke up in a pool of sweat, coughing his lungs up. I called the tour doctor and ENT at the crack of dawn and they signed Colton off with a really bad case of Larangitus. He's had to cancel the next couple shows so he can recover. He was really upset about it. It's the worst thing when you let fans down, they've all waited so long to see their idols perform and when they cancel it's awful but Colts so sick and it's shitty knowing there's not much I can do for him.

"You can't be mean to me, I'm sick." He sniffles, wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead. I carefully remove his head and climb off the bed.

"I know, I'm sorry, I'll be back in a second." He groans as I slip out of the room. I run around the apartment gathering a wet flannel, my laptop, a basket of snacks I made Jackson and Destiny grab this morning and a pack of blue Gatorade's. I return to the room and throw everything onto the bed careful to miss Colton who's still limp in between the pillows.

"Why'd you leave me." He whines like a puppy which only makes me smile. It's cute seeing him this needy.

"I went to get you some things." He stares down at the snacks and grabs a Gatorade.

"Do we have any sour patch?" He whines, how he can eat sour patch with a throat like his I have no idea but they're his favourites and he gets through at least seven packs a week.

"No, you ate them all last night." He places his head on my lap again as I pull up Netflix on my laptop.

"Oh, that's sad." He pouts at me, I try and conceal my laugh, he's like a brand new black Lab puppy, needy of attention but I love it.

"Yeah it is, what do you want to watch?" I ask him, he closes his eyes to think and squeaks out.

"Spider-Man, but the new one." I nod at him and pull the movie up, "but because I'm Sick you can't keep saying how cute Tom Holland is. It's not fair, I feel all limp-y." I stifle a laugh.

"But he is cu-" Colton shoots me a look, "Fine. You're way cuter anyway." I kiss his cheek.

"Ugh, I'm not cute I'm fucking sexy." He croaks.

"Of course you are baby." I chuckle.

As the movie starts I pull out my phone and see a text from Will.

"Hey, how is he?"

"He's alright, mopey but his egos still intact. X"

"Of course it is. If you need anything let me know."

"Actually can you do me a favour?"

"Sure...?"

"Can you grab a few bags of sour patch kids and bring em up? X"

"Sure thing, see you soon,"

I drop my phone onto the mattress with a smile and my fingers find themselves waving through his curly locks again. He looks completely spaced out, eyes glassy and skin paler than normal. I can feel a sweat gathering on his forehead so I take the wet flannel and press it to the top of his head. He lets out a strangled noise.

"You okay?" He just nods and smiles weakly. I carry on playing with his hair.

Halfway through the movie, Colton starts coughing ferociously again and I run to get him a bottle of water. On the way back, Will appears in the doorway with two plastic bags. I lead him into the bedroom and laugh at his choice of clothing. He's wearing plastic gloves, a face mask and one of those bee-keeper hat things.

"It's not contagious you know." I laugh as he hands me the bags from far away.

"You never can be too safe Gigi." He says making sure he stays right near the door as I climb into the bed again and hand Colton his water. I also take it as an opportunity to give him his medicine and take his temperature again.

I put the thermometer in his ear and wait for the beep.

"How you feeling?" Will asks from the other end of the room as the thermometer beeps.

Colton makes a sort of groan noise and slowly sticks his thumb up mid-air.

"Well his temperatures coming down, he's defiantly not as hot, so that's a good thing," I say reading off the thermometer.

"What have do I keep having to tell you, Gigi? I'm always hot, I'm the fucking hottest baby." He tries to smile with his eyes shut which just makes me chuckle in pity.

"Anyway I'll be off I just wanted to drop them off and see how you are." Will nods to the bags, " Take as long as you need Colt, I know it's upsetting but your well-being comes first and always should come first. Leave everything to me." He gives me a reassuring glance before waving and exiting the room.

I understand what he means, the label isn't happy about Colton cancelling and they're pulling all kinds of threats out the bag. We haven't told him because he's health is way more important than his career right now. I've never seen him so... limp before.

"Yay... sour patch!" His eyes light up as he pulls out at least ten bags.

"Yeah I text Will earlier and asked him to bring you some, I'll go down and get us some proper food later if you want." I open the packet for him and place them on his chest.

"No don't leave me, can't you just make your pasta again? It's so good and I'm really sick so technically..."

"Alright," I give in. These past few weeks, I've spent trying to teach Colton how to cook but ended up cooking for him. Luckily I've got my Italian cooking gene and am pretty good at putting together meals, Colton's definitely taken a liking to it, "I'm starting to think you're using me for my cooking." I smirk.

"And other things." He replies with a grin.

We end up watching a few other films before I realise Coltons actually asleep. His soft snores fill the room which is getting darker with the setting light. I open up Instagram to the photo I posted of Colton and I on stage at Rock in Rio to see it had just over eighteen million likes. What the fuck.

Fan accounts are reposting it, media outlets actually had good things to say about it and my comments are full of the sweetest things. There were obviously a few nasty ones but I try my best to ignore them, that's just what I've got to do. They still hurt but then I just look at Colton and realise that they don't hurt as much as they used too, there are better things to worry about.

Colton had shared a more recent photo of us at the game a few weeks ago which has just over nineteen million likes. My DMs were overflowing and my following had succumbed to just over one hundred million followers.

Nearly a year ago I was a server, singing in my bedroom... now I'm a chart-topping, top twenty most followed person on Instagram. How the fuck does that happen? It's crazy not to get swept up in it but I can't help but smile gleefully at how far I've come and how good it feels.

But how long will it last? Am I going to get my own album? Will Colton still love me if I don't get it? Will I just drop off the face of the earth and have to go back to serving?

I don't have the answers that that, which heightens my anxiety.

"What are you thinking about?" Colton's croaky voice makes me jump.

"When did you wake up?"

"Don't avoid the question, what's going on in that mind?" He attempts to sit up, doing so slowly.

"How many likes I got on an Instagram post." I look up at the ceiling.

"Really?" He takes my phone from my hands and smiles at the picture, "I thought you were having a deep and meaningful think." He tries to laugh but a squeak comes out.

"I kind of was I guess. Like a year ago I was a nobody and now I'm... well a somebody." I look wistfully at him, admiring his dishevelled hair.

"I'm really proud of you Gigi." He pulls me into his chest and runs his hand up my arm.

"Thanks, I'm proud of you too," I mumble back with a smile, taking his hand in mine.

"I love you no matter what, you know that right," he whispers as if reading my mind. I look up at him and I know he can tell that was what I was thinking. I give him a small nod and place a kiss on his cheek.

Say it. Just tell him you...

Just tell him.

Do it.

"Its okay sweetheart." He coaxes running a hand through my hair.

But it's not okay. You deserve more.

Hey hey!! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and had a good Christmas! Imma be living off leftovers for the next week!

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As always thanks for reading!
Iz x