1D Tumblr Imagines & Preferences ♫

He's in love with you

He's in love with you

Zayn: His fingers were flying over the sketchpad, drawing as fast as he could. He lifted his dark eyes briefly from his canvas to where you sat in the corner, unaware. The afternoon sun was perfect, highlighting your perfect jaw and sweet lips and Zayn couldn’t help himself: he had to draw you. He did that a lot, sketch you. You didn’t know and of course he’d never tell you why he did it. He loved you. Head over heels in love with you. “What are you drawing now?” His head snapped up as he watched you walk towards him. Long legs, curvy middle, perfect chest, beautiful face, long hair, brilliant eyes that were smiling a him. He gulped and flipped the page back to something less incriminating. “Nothing much,” He said following you with his eyes as you sat next to him. You leaned forward and touched the page, your fingers sliding against his. He swallowed, his skin heating up. You were oblivious. You had no idea of the spell you cast on him. He watched the way you pulled your hair off your face, the way you licked your lower lip as you studied his picture further. “What’s this?” He heard you ask. He found the ability to pull his eyes away from your mouth and look back down at his picture. You had flipped the page without him knowing and now your smiling face was looking up at the both of you. “It’s you,” he said shyly, his cheeks flushing. Man, he didn’t see this coming. Now what was he supposed to say? “Is this how you see me?” Your eyes raised to his, and he was startled by the emotion that he saw there. Was he mistaken, or was that awe in your voice? He watched you caress the page, eyes wide. “No,” he said softly. “This is how you are,” his fingers wrapping around yours. “You’re beautiful,”

Harry: He stared up at the ceiling, his jaw working back and forth in agitation. Not again. How was this happening again? You were curled under his arm watching a movie, some ridiculous horror flick that you picked.. He tried to sneak a peak down at you trying not to be overly obvious that he was staring. You had your head on his chest and your fingers just above his heart. He took a deep breath, he knew there was no way in hell you didn’t feel the rapid pulse beneath your fingers. “Are you scared?” You whispered. He fought the chill off and cleared his throat, giving you an easy smile. “No, why?” He asked nonchalantly. “Your heart is pounding,” You giggled, sitting up to face him just a bit more. Your hair fell over your left shoulder as you leaned there, your bright eyes on his. He gulped, trying to focus. You were beautiful. So damn beautiful it hurt. You had no idea, of course. You never seemed to have any mind to the effect you caused on him when you walked into a room or said his name. “Maybe I’m a little scared,” he lied lamely. You grinned, poking him in his stomach. “I’ll protect you, you big baby,” You slid back into his arms, wrapping your own around his middle. Carefully, he dropped his hand to your shoulder. He didn’t dare move or breathe, this had never happened before. He ran a strand of your hair through his fingers, marveling at the softness. “Don’t worry, Harry, your best friend is here.” He dropped his head back on the couch, wondering how his heart didn’t just shatter into a million pieces. Best friends. Nothing more, nothing less. Not now, not ever.

Louis:"Let’s gooooo slow poke,” Louis teased, tugging your pony tail. He watched you huff out a breath, your cheeks flushing. You didn’t understand what the impatience was for and why he felt the need to constantly tease you. “I’m coming, Jesus Lou, relax.” you stuffed your bag full of clothes and swung it over your shoulder. Louis had convinced you to come home to Doncasta with him for a weekend, he wanted to see a few matches and see home. You two didn’t do anything without the other, you were practically one being. The only time you wished you could be separated from him was right now, when he was acting like a five year old. He took your bag from you, watching the way you strutted to the car. Honest, he tried not to stare. He tried not to check you out. But damn, your legs were amazing. He never wanted to feel that way about you, but something had changed in the last few months on the road. Somehow you became all he thought about, all he saw. He didn’t know when it happened, or why, but he knew he was screwed. You were practically raised together, he knew you didn’t see him like that. He wanted to tell you, which was his brilliant plan for this weekend. He slid into the car next to you, shooting glances over from beneath his sunglasses as he drove. Your head was resting against the window, a slight breeze blowing errant strands away from your face. Your fingers were tapping against your leg to the radio and your mouth was moving softly to the words. You looked over and grinned at him, sending his heart to the floor. Louis Tomlinson was in love. There was no more denying it.

Liam:He hated your boyfriend. Loathed him. Liam just couldn’t understand what you saw in that prick. There was nothing extraordinary about him, nothing that you deserved. How many times had Liam dried your tears when your boyfriend bailed? How many times had he sat with you after you fought, trying to pick up the pieces again? Tonight was no different. He sat on your bed, watching you pace, your fingers raking through your hair. You hadn’t stopped crying and he was getting worried, you were never this upset. “Just end it,” he shouted suddenly, pushing to his feet. That got you to stop, but now those big blue eyes were on his and his words faltered. “What? Why?” You asked. Liam scrubbed his hands over his face. Shit, he didn’t mean to say that. “You aren’t happy. He doesn’t treat you right. There’s someone out there who can treat you so much better,” he said the words quietly but his heart was roaring in his ears. Was he doing this? Was he really going to tell you? “Like who?” You snapped, drying off the rest of your tears. “Like me,” he said with reverence. You just stared at each other, the memories falling between you. “I love you,” Liam admitted, his voice shaking. “I’m not sure when it happened or how, and I don’t care. All I know is I’m in love with you and I hate seeing you like this. So please,” he begged quietly, kissing your forehead. “Let me love you.”

Niall: "Did you get the pizza?" Niall lifted his head from his phone, bringing his blue eyes to yours. You were rummaging through DVD’s, carelessly tossing them into a pile. "Yup," he replied, going back to scrolling. Friday night tradition was in effect. Movies, pizza, beer and a sleep over. You and Niall had been friends so long that the lines started to blur. He wasn’t sure where he ended and you began, or where the line of your friendship was. It seemed to him everyday something changed, and he was hoping that change was for the better. He watched you stand and stretch, your shirt rising a few inches to reveal a sliver of pale skin, the perfect porcelain. He itched to run his fingers across it, to see how it would feel beneath his hands. He knew it wasn’t an option though, no matter how close the two of you were, neither of you had breached that line yet. He couldn’t read you, couldn’t figure you out. He knew without a doubt in his mind he’d do anything for you. You say jump, he’d say how high. He loved you, adored you. Everyone else seemed to know except you. He watched as you crossed over to him, your eyes on his. You curled into his arms and buried underneath the covers. He was surprised when you cuddled into him, your head on his chest. The night passed quietly and soon you drifted off. When he felt you lace your fingers through his and nuzzle into his neck, he swallowed thickly. “I love you,” he said into the darkness, his heart erratic. “I love you so much.” He waited for a response but the silence was his only answer.

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Posted by brizzlefromtheblock