One direction and 5 Seconds of Summer preferences and images

Words after a fight

Ashton: 

Isolated in different rooms, you both ignore the other, not wanting to create anymore unnecessary hurt. He’s pacing though, his mind going a million miles an hour, upset with what he said to you, and desperately thinking of an apology that will cover what he just said and did. He didn’t mean to yell at you, but his anger had gotten a little out of hand, and kicking over the coffee table in that moment had just felt like the right thing. Now he just felt like an utter twat as he paces a hole into the floor. His hands are running through his hair constantly before he finally lets blows out his breath He takes the steps two at a time, knocking twice before pushing the door open. You’re sitting on the side of the bed, your head raising as you hear him enter. “I’m sorry.” He breaths out, walking quickly to you and kneeling between your legs so that you’re looking down at him. You already know that you forgive him but you let him finish talking. “I shouldn’t have said those things, and I shouldn’t have gotten that out of hand. I just love you so goddamn much,” he says as he buries his face in your shirt. “It’s okay,” you say as you run your fingers through his hair. “I forgive you.”

Calum: 

Everything during the fight had been too loud, but now after the fight it was just too quiet. You had left for a run, the only thing that ever got your mind clear and he was left at home to brew in his thoughts. He wanted to leave like you and try and forget but where would he go? So he sat at home and analyzed literally everything that had happened. His jealousy flaring as green as possible as he yelled at you. Rumors being spread about seeing other guys behind his back. He hadn’t meant anything he said, but he’d just been so angry. Part of him wonders if you’re running away from him and what he said; he wouldn’t blame you or be mad at you if you did. He’d just be mad at himself. So when he sees you walk through the door he has you in his arms immediately. “It’s my fault. I should have never said what I said,” his lips coming down and resting on the top of your head as he feels your hands clutch the front of his shirt. “I just need you to trust me Calum,” your hurt voice lets out. His eyes shut and nods against your head, “I do. I promise.” 

Luke: 

He’d left you alone. He had literally just walked out on you and now he can’t figure out why he would have ever done such a thing. It had been a mistake, one that anybody could have made. You were bringing him his guitar and you’d tripped, dropping it and breaking the neck of it. Sure he was mad but not mad at you; however he’d definitely taken it out on you. And then he’d left your guys’ home, even after seeing the tears that were running down your face. It took him a few blocks of walking to finally realize it, but he knows that he was wrong in his actions and he’s heading back instantly. Making his way back into the house he sees your hunched up form on the couch. Your tears having exhausted you as you’re asleep, fists balled up and held as close your chest as possible. He lets out a sigh as he squats down next to you, his large hands rubbing up and down your sides until you finally open your eyes. “Everything alright,” he whispers to you. “Things happen. No come on, let me take you to bed,” and he’ll pick you up in his arms and carry you up the stairs before tucking you into bed and crawling in behind you. The words having been said that night forgotten.

Michael: 

And he feels like an utter ass for what he said. He’ll curse freely as he becomes more and more frustrated with himself, letting his fist come in contact with the wall. It’ll take him a while but he’ll finally realize that hitting things isn’t going to make things any better. He wasn’t having a good week and the way you’d kept asking about it, and trying to get him to speak with you had pushed him over the edge. You’d been a little shocked that he’d yelled, but understood that maybe he needed space. “Talk to me when you’re ready to not yell,” you’d simply said before slipping away. Now he stood in the hallway looking like an arse as he tried to swallow his pride and knock. Letting out a frustrated sigh he knocks and waits for your okay before turning the knob and stepping in. You’ve changed into sweats and one of his t-shits and he melts at the site of it. Laying on the bed, his head finding home in your lap as your fingers scratch his scalp. “This weeks sucked,” he mumbles into your thigh, his emotions breaking out as you feel the first sob shake his body. “Shhh. I’ve got you, it’s okay.” You soothe no longer worried about the fight, just glad he’s finally opening up.