Red

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Harry: Red was the color your face turned as soon as you saw your mother come back into the living room with as many photo albums as she could carry. There were only two words in your mind: baby pictures. And those were two words were sending you into panic mode. It wasn’t that you were hideous as a baby, you were just really self-conscious about your baby self. Your parents had documented some pretty embarrassing stuff and of course, the first picture your mom showed Harry was a naked one. They cooed together about how adorable and weird you were as a youngster and the only thing you could do was bury your face into your hands and take the abuse. After successfully flipping through two entire albums, your father stepped back in to declare that his barbecue masterpiece was complete, and the hotdogs and burgers were ready. You could tell that Harry was beginning to loosen up, seeing as he was nervous about meeting your family. More nervous than you’d ever seen him. Thankfully, your family had promised to behave themselves when meeting Harry, and everything seemed to be good so far. Your siblings had taken quite a liking, even your parents were bonding with the guy. Seeing them all get along so well made your heart soar with complete happiness. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but all the humiliating childhood stories and baby pictures were worth it. Seeing your family so happy for you, and seeing Harry feel so at ease with them, there was nothing better than that for you. “Harry, did (Y/N) ever tell you about the time she sprained her finger picking her nose?” “MOM!” “I didn’t even know that was possible! She definitely hasn’t told me, though I’m sure you can tell it so much better.” Maybe it wasn’t worth this story.

Niall: “Oh my god, I can’t look. I think I’m going to be sick. (Y/N), you’re dying!” Niall shrieked, a shaky hand shielding his eyes from the monstrosity that was…your paper cut. You sighed and looked down at your small wound. It was bleeding pretty badly for a paper cut, but it still didn’t really make you as queasy as it was making your boyfriend. It only stung a little, honestly. “You’re being a baby, Ni,” you giggled, wiggling your injured finger in his face. He peeked through his fingers before squealing and covering his baby blues again, groaning as if he was the one that was bleeding. “I can’t stand the sight of blood. Go get a Band-Aid, babe.” “I’m the one who’s wounded, you could at least go get one for me,” you shot back playfully before sauntering off to rummage through your medicine cabinet, finally fishing out a much needed Band-Aid. You pulled it apart slowly, hearing Niall shuffle into the bathroom behind you. “Don’t come in, I’m still in bad shape,” you teased, turning your head to look at Niall from over your shoulder. He stood there awkwardly, hands in his pockets but still avoiding your finger. “Sorry, babe. I just get so queasy, I can’t help it. Are you okay? The blood was really…red. Like, bright red. It freaked me out,” he explained, his eyes apologetic and oh, so very adorable. You couldn’t help but jump on him and give him a huge hug, laughing all the while. His arms wrapped around your torso instantly, giving you a firm but gentle squeeze. You gave him a peck on the cheek as you pulled away, suddenly having your own thing to apologize for. “Um, don’t be mad at me, but I kind of got a little bit of blood on your shirt…”

Louis: Was he joking around, or was he actually being serious about painting his room bright red? Red was a great color and all, but he’d chosen a color that almost hurt your eyes because of how vibrant it was. And since you were prone to staying over at Louis’ flat, you were going to have to see it as much as he did. “C’mon, (Y/N)! I think it’s a spiffing color. It can’t be that bright once you paint it onto the wall. It’ll be fun. Just help me do it, yeah?” And so you unwillingly agreed to it, already having a bad feeling in your gut at about the end result. But no matter how much you tried to discourage him, Louis stuck to his idea, saying it was original and creative and fun. And you weren’t going to burst his bubble, were you? So your little home project began with you silently cringing every time you painted on another patch of the very dramatic shade of red. You could see Louis slowly changing his mind as he noticed that no, the color didn’t die down once it was painted on. In fact, to you it was even stronger. Seeing Louis so crestfallen that his plan had backfired, you decided to make things fun again. On the second afternoon of painting, you snuck up behind Louis, the palm of your hand coated heavily in red paint. Smirking to yourself, your hand sailed forward, giving your unsuspecting boyfriend a nice slap on his bum. He jumped a little at the contact, startled by it at first before noticing your messy hand and his now messy sweats. “You little shit!” he laughed, dipping a finger into a paint can and smearing the contents all over your cheek, effectively earning a very loud screech from you. This eventually ended up becoming a paint war that left the both of you more covered in paint than the entire room was. “Let’s call a truce,” you said between breathless laughs, holding your hands up in surrender. Louis agreed with a nod, his own laughter too much to even talk through. His hands linked with yours, paint-smeared nose rubbing against your own. “Let’s take a much needed shower and call someone to help fix this horrible painting job, yeah?” “I get to pick the color this time, Tomlinson.”

Zayn: You could literally feel Zayn’s impatience floating up to you from his place downstairs. You were getting ready for a dinner date and Zayn couldn’t stress enough that you two couldn’t be late. You had reservations at 8 and it was already almost 6:30, so you were picking up the pace and touching up anything that needed to be fixed. You’d gone for a classic look, with winged eyeliner and deep red lipstick that made your features glow. Once you slipped on your cocktail dress and heels, you made your way downstairs to get Zayn’s opinion. “Do I look okay?” you asked, twirling around for him. He looked stunned, face a little flushed but a smile formed nonetheless. “You look stunning, love. Like always,” he whispered shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes traveled to your lips, licking his own subconsciously. You blinked in confusion, touching them lightly with the tips of your fingers. “Is my lipstick smeared?” you murmured, whirling around to go to the bathroom and check on your appearance. Zayn stopped you before you could, though, his hand enveloping yours. “No, your lipstick is fine. I really like that color on you, is all.” Giggling a bit, you pulled him close to plant a quick smooch on his cheek, leaving a lipstick stain in your wake. That was all that was needed before he latched his lips onto yours hungrily, your lipstick smearing onto his lips. You hadn’t known this turn on of Zayn’s, but you were glad you’d found out. Dinner could always wait; right now, the two of you were hungry for something else.

Liam: All you could hear from Liam’s room were groans of pain and although it made you upset knowing he was hurting, it also was a little amusing. You and Liam had gone swimming earlier and he had barely put any sunscreen on himself, resulting in a terrible sunburn. He was red from head to toe, almost, save for the pale streaks of skin that had been graced with some sunscreen. And that’s what you found hilarious. He kind of looked like a zebra. The only thing you could really do for him was rub a ton of aloe vera on him until he was okay to move about without his sunburn stinging. “The boys will be here in a few minutes,” you chirped, thinking a visit from his four best mates would make him feel a little better. But Liam’s tomato face seemed to pale at the mention, and he was suddenly shaking his head, pleading with you to shoo them away. It surprised you, to say the least. Why wouldn’t he want them to keep him company? He was always so excited when they came to visit. Did he think they’d make fun of his appearance? You didn’t have time to ask him anything because a few seconds later, the doorbell rang and Liam groaned in defeat. “This won’t be good.” You ignored him, walking out into the living room where four smiling boys were already making themselves at home. There was something strange going that you couldn’t really pinpoint, but you just ignored everything and focused on trying to make Liam feel better. “So, Liam’s in some pain, like I told you, and –“ “Show us where he is, (Y/N),” Louis smirked, but all four heads looked behind you to see a very distressed Liam attempting to shoo them away. “I’ll call you tomorrow, lads, I swear,” he pleaded, leaving you even more confused. The boys ignored him, all shouting hellos before running up to Liam, each of them slapping him on the back, the arm, chest, anywhere that looked like it hurt. You suddenly knew why Liam was so desperate to have them stay away. They were absolutely, positively evil geniuses.

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Hope you liked it :)

vote + comment for the colour red!! ;)

kbye lovelies

~Girlnotonfire/Naqiya xx

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