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Summary
Niall goes for a second, even a third helping and signals his approval. Harry did good. But what was that aftertaste? It was a stronger element that awoke his taste buds. Maybe onion? He was just about to dip his spoon in for a fourth time when he realized something. His tongue was tingling and his eyes began to water. He thought he imagined his throat becoming dry and tries to clear it.
He latches one of his hands on the countertop for support as the other flies to his throat. He could barely swallow and the clatter of the spoon onto the floor hardly registers in his mind. Niall tries to take deep breaths and instead finds himself floundering, failing to draw breath properly. What was happening?
The sensation of his throat closing up intensifies as does the sudden clouding of his vision. He swears he sees a few dark spots float in front of his line of vision and begins to panic. He’s having an allergic reaction. His mind races to the pot and he briefly looks in the direction of the stove.
Series
- Part 2 of Narry Oneshots