Harry - the smell of your skin lingers on me now, you’re probably on your flight back to your hometown
He tossed the phone over in his hand, over and over, thinking about calling you with the sounds of the airport dotting lines in his mind, voices sounding out, parents going back to their children, boyfriends going back to their girlfriends, mothers going back to their fathers. You paced the hallway of the empty house in your bed socks wondering how high in the sky his plane was. He shouldered his bag a little higher, walking the lines of the airport terminal, your number dialled, waiting for the button to make it ring. He didn’t want to be the one saying he needed you out loud, even if it was true. You walked slowly into the kitchen, checking the time, scrunching up his old t-shirt you were wearing, smelling the cologne still left there, watching the phone, thinking it might ring, just maybe.
Liam - we’ve got some straightenin’ out to do, and I’m gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket
You listened when the car door shut, a dull sound that didn’t sound like much with the rain outside, trailing the window in lines like little droplets racing each other to the bottom. You waited for the taxi driver to finish with your bags in the back, thanking him over and over when he settled in the drivers seat, asking you where you were going. You told him the airport. Liam watched from the window inside, every fibre of his being wanting to run after you, and beg you to stay. He drummed the words over and over in his head, how you’d said that you would miss him, “then why aren’t you staying, baby? Why aren’t you staying?”
Louis - fairytales don’t always have a happy ending, do they? And I foresee the dark ahead if I stay
"Don’t go," he choked on his own words, with tears in his eyes and the rims of them ready, sick of fighting for the last two hours. He held your hands carefully, rubbing into your knuckles with his thumbs, "w-we can still have our fairytale, babe, we can… I promise…" he pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth. You turned away from a breath halting, catching your own when you leant down to pick up your bag, packed in a mess all hasty and hurried. You pressed your lips together, holding onto your own tears like they were a secret. He broke again, choking something out when you shook your head, "fairytales don’t always have a happy ending, Lou." He stopped, frozen limbs when you backed up to the bedroom door, turning and walking out of it, taking it one step at a time.
Zayn - yes, you can hold my hand if you want to, cause I want to hold yours too
He held it like it were made of glass, threading your fingers one by one, careful of each time his slipped between yours, watching as they came together, waiting until he could squeeze and hold just that one part of you. He smiled when he rested your hands over his chest, with you lain into him a little, counting down the hours and the time flashing on his alarm clock by you. He exhaled, and shut his eyes for a moment, waiting for words you weren’t ready to speak, “you want this, don’t you?” He whispered in the end, watching you. You nodded, squeezing his hand again, the same way he was squeezing yours. He leant up, enough to kiss your lips like it was the easiest thing in the world, the only thing that mattered.
Niall - but it’s time for me to go home. It’s getting late, dark outside
You shifted near him, wondering what else there was to say. He moved his eyes from yours, watching your steps as you bent down around the bedroom, picking up items of clothing one by one, slipping them over your skin, checking your watch every other second as you went slowly. He pressed his lips together, holding in words that didn’t matter, telling you to stay, telling you that you don’t have to go. He rubbed a palm down his face and bunched up the covers, holding them around his waist as he sat up, hair a dishevelled mess. You bit your lip with your back to him, from the other side of the room, worrying about telling him that you didn’t really want to go, that you wanted to stay, in his arms, for however long it would take.
