One Direction Preferences

You dont know he's famous

Harry: You're running late to your shift at Ralph Lauren and the enormous crowds in your way aren't making things any easier. After pushing your way through the girls, you smile when you notice the security guard standing by the closed glass doors. He greets you as he does every day opening the door to the surprisingly empty store for you to make your way inside. Looking around curiously, you push your caramel colored locks from your face while making your way towards the counter. Setting your stuff down in the cabinet, you turn to your coworker. "What's going on?" you asked leaning back against the wood to take in the empty store. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a mop of curly brown hair making its way around the racks. The older blonde woman shrugs, eyes trained on the boy as he makes his way towards the counter. Looking at him as if he's any other customer, you smile while leaning towards the cash register. "Can I help you?" you asked him, watching as a genuine smile spreads across his handsome face. "Can you let me in the dressing room love?" he asks, nodding towards the fitting rooms. As you make your way around the counter, he moves back to allow you to step around him and suddenly the crowd outside erupts. Turning your head towards the glass windows, you notice he has placed himself between you and the watchful gaze of the crowd outside. "Sorry about this" he mumbles quietly, his deep voice mixed with the loud crowd makes it almost impossible to hear him. The two of you make your way towards the fitting room, him stepping back as you unlock the white door to allow him inside. "Pretty crazy out there isn't it?" you say trying to make conversation with a paying customer. He smiles shyly while brushing past you slowly, green eyes locked on yours in wonderment. "I wonder why they're all out there," you question aloud leaning back against the wall in case he needs something. "I have no fucking idea" he laughs opening the door to step out in a pair of dark green colored khakis. "What do you think of these?" he asks you, turning to look in the floor to ceiling mirror at the end of the hall. "Well, I do love colored khakis on men so you're all good" you tell him watching as he turns his whole body towards yours. "Do you now? Well maybe me, you, and these colored khakis could go out sometime" he asks with a cheeky smile. You stand there in your favorite light pink Polo button down tucked inside a pair dark washed jeans, one foot crossed over the over. For some reason you're enamored by the young man in front of you, his easy smile and carefree personality make you unable to say no. "Well, you should at least tell me your name first" you ask with a shy smile. The crowd outside starts chanting and he suddenly looks nervous. "It's, it's Harry" he says slowly watching as your eyes start to make the connections he had hoped you wouldn't. "Harry as in... that Harry" you ask, pointing one manicured fingernail towards the front of the store. His large hands shove themselves into the pockets of his pants as he hangs his head and nods. "Huh... you must be a pretty big deal then" you laugh cautiously watching as he lifts his head to lock his gaze on yours. "So they tell me... is that a yes then? Since I told you my name and all" he pushes again standing in the doorway of the dressing room. "Sure, why not... I'm (Y/N). I get off at 6, see you and your colored khakis then" you say with a smile while making your way back towards the front of the store, eagerly awaiting the clock to strike six.

Louis: It's early, too early in the morning to be up but for some reason your body decided it was time to get up. Groggily making your way towards the kitchen, you pass the bathroom to notice your roommate/best friend getting ready for work. Shuffling against the cold tile of the kitchen you open the stainless steel doors of the fridge and groan loudly. "Oh yeah... I forgot to go to the grocery store" your roommate calls out brushing past the open entryway towards the front door of your apartment. "See you later, love you, bye" she calls shutting the door behind her. "Oh yeah, no, totally, I'll go to the grocery store... no problem. Fucking bitch" you murmur jokingly while making your way back towards your bedroom. Pulling on a bra and a clean shirt you slid your black rimmed glasses onto your sleepy eyes. Staggering around the room while trying to pull your black leggings up your legs, you stumble into the dresser and knock your cars keys from the surface. Groaning at the obviously awesome start to your day, you pick them up and grab your purse. After driving towards the small, family owned grocery store, you pull into the mostly empty parking lot and tiredly make your way inside. Grabbing a cart that won't annoy you for your early morning shopping trip, you start to make your way around all the while not knowing what to get. You randomly start making your way down aisles, grabbing things you've seen in your fridge before. Once you're finish you begin to make your way towards the registers overlooking everything you have in your cart. "Shit... I don't have any damn breakfast food, it's breakfast" you tell yourself quietly, turning your cart towards the cereal aisle. You park your cart in front of the wide selection and start the difficult task of deciding which one you want. As your mulling over your choices, you notice a boy at the end of the aisle doing the same thing. Deciding on a family sized box of Special K, you stretch up on the tips of your toes to reach the box inconveniently placed at the very top of the shelf. Huffing in frustration as you try for the third time to scoot the box off the shelf, you feel a warm body press against the side of your outstretched arm. Looking to your left you notice the boy from a few moments ago effortlessly reaching for your desired box. "Is this the one you wanted love?" he asks, turning the front of the box towards you. You nod your head reaching your smaller fingers towards his and toss the box in your cart. "Thank you" you say, pushing your cart towards the cash register. You notice he falls in to step beside you and your turn your eyes towards the hand basket he's carrying. "You like a lot of easy to make things don't you?" you ask trying to make conversation with the kind boy who had handed you your must have breakfast food. "Well... I am a boy and I can't really cook; my roommate can but me, not so much" he shrugs, stepping aside to allow you to check out first. "Well, can't your roommate just cook for you?" you ask as you start to load your things onto the conveyor belt. "Normally he does but he's out of town visiting family so... it's up to me to survive for the week" he jokes, blue eyes sparkling despite the early time. You nod your head silently letting your eyes wash over his body dressed in a pair of pajama bottoms and a striped shirt with a maroon beanie pulled over his hair. You stand there as the cashier begins ringing your items up, your tired eyes reading the headlines of the many magazines that surround you. You can feel his eyes watching you carefully as you lean forward to get a better look at the group of guys on the cover of The Sun. Blinking because it must be the early morning playing tricks on you, you pick the magazine up and he sighs. Looking at him and then glancing back down at the magazine in your hands, you instantly make the connection. "Oh" you say simply watching as he lowers his eyes to the floor. You suddenly feel bad for the pop star in front of you, shopping for food so early in the morning in the hopes that he wouldn't be recognized. "I really love those TV dinners you got, they're the best for when you don't feel like cooking" you offer with a kind smile, turning the magazine backwards before placing it back in its place. He watches you curiously with a happy smile before nodding his head. "I'm Louis" he tells you with a sigh of relief. "I'm (Y/N)" you smile, handing the cashier your money. "You know... if you get tired of those TV dinners, I'm pretty good at making pasta" you offer as you start to push your cart away from the register. "I do get tired of TV dinners pretty easily... I'm kind of tired of them already" he laughs carelessly. "Well... it's too early for pasta but would Special K do?"