One Direction Preferences

#35: He Just Wants To Help

Louis:

You don't want help though, and this you try to say, but he gets frustrated and ends up fisting his hair and growling at the top of his lungs. "You help me! You help me all the time when I need you and you're so goddamn selfless but when I wanna hold you, make you feel better, you push me away!" His fists tighten and his fingers tingle at the tight hold. "God dammit, do you know how upsetting that is? I can't just sit here and watch you cry. I just can't. I won't." He levels down to you, hand finding the small of your back. "So let it all go, right now. I'm here for you, don't you see?"

Niall:

You don't know how to accept help, because it seems that you're giving but you aren't taking, because it feels wrong and you're just not like that, and it practically tears him apart. "Let me," he whispers, and his forehead is pressed against yours and his arms are starting to come around you and he lets that little voice inside of his head guide him into doing the right thing to helping you properly, "Come on, just let me. I'm not doing anything to hurt you right now, are I? I'm trying to help." He rubs his hand up and down your arm, warming you, trying to coax you closer into his embrace. "Let me."

Liam:

You don't see why anyone would want to help you. You're ugly, so you think. You're pathetic, so it seems. You're not worth it, everyone seems to be saying. Yet he stays, and he holds you, and he wraps his arms around you tight and promises that he loves you and he wants nothing more than to make you smile. "Just let me help you to learn how to smile and love yourself, okay?" he murmurs, his lips pressing against your temple before shifting you back into his arms, hugging you tighter than before. "You deserve it more than anyone in this world. You need to know you're loved."

Zayn:

You're a drunken, slobbering, hopeless mess, and you keep battling away the hands that try to help you sit up and the fingers that try to wipe away your tears. And he's hurt by this, because he thinks of himself as a pretty decent boyfriend, and he finds that it's his job to help you when you're in distress. "Just let me help," he says, his voice increasingly louder and firmer as he clutches your hands to his chest, "Shhh, stop. Just let me help. I'll make it feel better. I'll make everything better if you just let go of your stubbornness and understand that I'm willing and loving."

Harry:

You're not sure why you're crying, or sobbing, or bawling, or being emotional. But he finds no fault in it, and he leans down to crouch in front of you and grabs your arms, hauling you into his. You don't want it though -- you don't want him to see you like this, a broken mess. "I'm just trying to help," he whispers into your hair, and he won't let go, no matter how many times you flail, "I'm just helping...." He knows it'll work, so he strokes your hair and pulls you inbetween his legs and holds you like that for as long as you need it. You're there for him, so he's always going to be there for you.