One Direction preference

How you spend your birthday

Zayn: “Happy birthday!” Zayn cried as you swung into the apartment.  “Aw, babe, thank you!” you exclaimed, noting the elaborate decorations hanging floor-to-ceiling all over the flat.  “Special birthday dinner for my special birthday girl!” he sang as he pulled you by the hand into the dining room.  Foods you didn’t think he was capable of even pronouncing were strewn across the table.  “Everything looks brilliant!” you gasped.  “Let’s see how it tastes,” he replied winking, pulling out your chair like the perfect gentleman he was.  You giggled like a little fucking school girl, you whore. You let your body fall, trusting the chair was merely inches from your fit bum.  “Woah-” Zayn began, but it was too late.  Your stomach dropped as gravity slammed you to the floor, your head cracking open against the seat of the chair.  “Whoops, mah bad,” Zayn slurred, unaware that you were already dead.

Louis: Louis, drunk on eggnog and holiday spirit, eagerly led you into the already packed mall. “Lou, slow down!” you squealed over the buzz of sleep-deprived Black Friday shoppers. Somehow, through the milling of people, you both managed to worm your way through to the very heart of theVictoria’s Secret store. You noticed Lou, slightly ahead, attempting to grab his pre-ordered birthday present for you between the vicious claws of crazed teenage girls. You had just glanced up from the yoga pants section, when you happened to spot Louis’ wallet slip from his pocket, his bum too voluptuous for his pants to handle, and bounce onto the floor. As you bent down to retrieve it, you heard a shriek directly behind you: “I GOT THE LAST PUSH-UP!” “Oh boy,” you heard Louis mumble, as you were swept underfoot in the mad dash for the Prized Brassiere. The last thing you heard before being knocked into a coma was Lou’s somber remark, a slow “Damn this ass.”

Liam: “Your seat, mademoiselle,” your pompous waiter dramatically announced as he presented to you your private table in the back of the restaurant. “Hello, darling,” Liam said sweetly as he got up and pecked you on the cheek.  “Happy birthday,” he added, winking. You were handed a menu of expensive appetizers, but decided you were more in the mood for dessert (ooh la la). You merely skimmed it until the waiter was out of sight. After a few minutes of comfortable chatting, a nicely dressed young man approached with a basket of seasoned breadsticks. You grabbed one, starving, not taking the time to note the massive diamond ring strategically placed on the end. Liam’s eyes brightened. “What?” you asked, shoving the rest of the breadstick into your mouth whole. “Wait!” he quipped as you felt the ring slide halfway down your throat, getting caught in the middle.  “Aberthfgh!” you gagged, banging on the table.  Liam was panicking, trying to phone the police, but his mobile clattered into the ice bucket.  He passed out from over-stimulation, leaving you alone, clutching the table cloth, unable to breathe.  Your entire body was numb, your mouth opening and closing, useless.  After minutes of airless agony, you slipped to the floor, unconscious.

Harry: “Present time!” Harry exclaimed, whisking away your paper plate smeared with cake.  “Harry, I told you I didn’t want anything…” you protested guiltily.  “Nonsense!” he argued, kissing your cheek.  You relaxed in your chair, admittedly curious as to what he had thought up.  He was obviously eager to give you something.  You bit your lip as he waltzed from the room, only to return seconds later, a small, blue box in hand.  “Ready?” he asked still holding the top of the package now placed in your lap, green eyes glinting with mischief.  “As I’ll ever be,” you giggled, now just as excited as he.  “A kitten for my kitten!” he shouted, ripping off the lid, revealing a tiny calico peering up at you.  Immediately, you felt your eyes water and cheeks redden.  “You love it!” he sang, misjudging the tears streaming down your face as joyous rather than painful.  “No, Harry,” you gasped through swollen lips.  “Cats – I’m – allergic – deathly – help,” you managed as your throat closed up.  You saw Harry mouth, “Shit,” arms extended.  But instead of reaching for you, he scooped up the kitten, and cradled its fragile body in his strong arms.  You saw them both waving goodbye to you as your eyes swelled shut.

Niall: “Where are we going?” you giggled.  “Now if I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise now would it?” Niall responded cheekily, taking your hand and leading you up the walk to the front door.  “Don’t peek!” he squealed, skipping ahead of you slightly like a sappy young chap.  You squeezed your eyes shut, blindly stumbling after him, following the giddy shouts. “Nearly there!” you heard him cry, feet before you.  You heard a door open as he pulled you inside. “Okay, love, open up those beautiful orbs in your perfectly crafted skull,” he cooed.  Your eyes flew open to shouts of “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” and you felt a smile break out across your face.  “Ni!” you began to whine as you felt his arm snake around your waist.  He led you through the throng of people, over to the table where mounds of presents and heaps of desserts were displayed eloquently.  Your eyes scanned the massive chocolate cake, with “Happy Birthday” scrawled in casual orange frosting (Niall’s handiwork, you assumed).  “Everything looks delicious!” you exclaimed, turning to beam at him.  But you were stopped dead at his breath on your ear.  “So do you,” he hissed.  “Wha-” you began, but two canine teeth ripping into your trachea cut off your protest.  And then it all went black.