Louis: You’ve been tapping your foot repeatedly, your lips pressed in a hard firm line. “You know she started talking to me first.” He says quietly eyes locked on your fidgeting foot. “And it’s not like I could ever leave you for her. You’re way prettier.” He laughs, watching the small smile spread across your face.
Harry: “Aw look at that. Is that jealously I see on your face?” He coos, wrapping his arms securely around your waist. Peppering little kisses from the tip of your nose down to your neck, before nuzzling into the curve of your shoulder. “Don’t worry love, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”
Niall: He instantly frustrated, pulling at the ends of his hair. “Just talk to me. Say something. You can yell at me, or like punch me if you want. Just tell me why you are so mad.” His voice is slightly raised, and it hits you all at once. You were jealous and now he’s mad, and you’re about to lose him. “Oh, love. Come here, I didn’t mean it.” He murmurs quickly
Liam: “Are you okay?” He asks against your lips, a small whimper forming as you press the rest of the way down. “I mean I love this,” he continues gesturing between the two of you pressed together in the front seat “really I do, we could do it all night. But is this about something? Maybe the waitress at the café?”
Zayn: “I think it’s hot. You’re all flustered and your face is turning red.” He points out, running his nimble finger over the flesh of your cheek. “So hot.” He repeats, grazing his lips over yours, taking in a deep breath.
