One Direction Preferences✔️

Soundtrack Series • Take Me Home • She's Not Afraid

Harry: Your eyes were still trying to adjust to normal lights, ones that weren't flashing. Harry presses the button for the elevator as you look around the lobby, eyes still very much on the two of you. "Pretty damn proud of you," he says once the elevator doors had shut behind you. "For what?" He smiles. "For handling all of that as great as you did," he compliments. "Well I'm pretty used to it, being around you and all." "It scares a lot of people," he admits as the doors chime and open. "Guess I'm just immune," you tell him with a smile as you take his arm and he leads you back to the room. You let go of his arm as soon as he unlocks the door, knowing he will be going straight to the bathroom for a shower. It was a strange habit of his that you have just learned to accept. He's never in there long, so by the time you get your clothes changed, your makeup off, and find something to watch on the television, the bathroom door is opening and steam is rushing into the rest of the room. You keep your eyes locked on the television. He's going to slowly walk in front of you while he's only wearing a towel, on purpose of course. He loves to watch you struggle. It makes him feel good about himself, you assume. Once he is clothed, he crawls across you, also on purpose, and onto his side of the bed. He doesn't even bother to sit up. His head rests against your arm as he brings his phone out. "How many pictures are you going to take?" You ask him, keeping your eyes on the television, but knowing exactly what he was doing. "As many as I want. Who knows how long it will be before you come back on the road with me" He was right about that one. You look away from the TV and rest your head on top of his. You smile slightly and close your eyes. Unconventional, you know. He lifts up and you move your head. He looks up at you, his head now in your lap. "Can I help you?" You tease. He says nothing, only looks back at you. Your heart begins to beat faster, and you know he can hear it. You continue to look down at him, though. Nothing in the world could bring you away. You can feel yourself wanting to get closer to him, even though this is as close to his face as you've been all day. "You can kiss me if you want," Harry says, and you snap out of your thoughts. "What makes you think I want to do that?" "Well you've been looking at me long enough." "You were the one that started this little staring contest, might I remind you." "You can still kiss me," he assures you softly. "Don't want to," you tell him, sitting up and looking back at the television. "You are so frustrating sometimes," he admits, still remaining in your lap. "I know, I don't know how you live with me." You know he doesn't really mean harm with his statement, but you are very much aware of how frustrating you are. Your emotions get to you every single day. You should be happy that you are lying here with Harry in your lap. He is all you have wanted for the longest time. You can't tell him that all of the flirting you do over the phone means nothing; it means everything. While you're pretending it's all a joke, you know deep down everything you have been saying to him regarding your feelings for him has been the truth. You just can't let go of the friendship, though.
Liam: It was a good thing he was deciding to call, you hadn't seen your phone in hours. "Hi!" You answer slightly out of breath after having to run all over. "How are you?" "Good. I was getting ready to head out to check out that charity you told me about that's down the road." "Oh, good, I think you will like it there. They're great people." You had to have something to do while you were staying with him, something besides constantly cleaning his flat. You wait for him to continue with his purpose of calling. This isn't his usual pre or post show conversation. "I was on Twitter just now," he reveals. "Oh here we go," you comment, knowing nothing ever good comes after that phrase. "No, it's not bad, honest." "Well, go on," you push. "Well I saw those pictures from yesterday, the ones with the fans. I know you don't really care what everyone else has to say about you, that's something I've actually admired a lot about you over the years, but even though a lot of people have been saying terrible things, you still took the time to stop for those girls." "That part of your life isn't hard," you inform him. "I have no problem stopping and talking with your fans. They have always treated me very well; they used to at least." "Well that proves to you that they don't all say bad things." "Yeah, I guess not," you say, wanting to get this conversation over with. You didn't like the fact that his fans were now turning against you, simply because you hadn't moved out of his flat yet, and occasionally take his car out. Oh, and don't forget, showing up to all six shows at the O2. That was a no-no for them after you've spent so much time 'living off of him'. You've literally heard it all from them. However, the girls you came across the other day were very sweet. They were just like all of the other fans you used to meet. "I guess I just wanted to say that you're doing a good job," he tells you and you laugh slightly. "Liam, I've been doing this for a while now, have you forgotten that? Just because the hate is something new, doesn't mean that I don't remember how your life works." You certainly weren't new to keeping your head down, making sure you keep your phone conversations quiet, and never, under any circumstances talk to the paparazzi. It's more hassle than it's worth, no matter what ridiculous questions they come up with to ask. "You're really great, you know that?" "I'm honestly just doing everything you taught me like five years ago, nothing special. I'm just a good listener, I guess." "You say that, but then I just can't help but think about all of the people we have come across, all of us guys, and thought they were our friends. People like to take advantage of us; I know you know that. You've heard every single one of those stories, from all of us. But just to know that I have someone like you around that I don't have to worry about doing or saying anything that would hurt me or the boys in any way, that's really nice." You aren't sure where all of this is coming from. You have never once done anything to put any of the boys in jeopardy. You are glad he is recognizing that, but it just seems like an odd time to bring all of this up. "Liam, are you okay?" You inquire, genuinely. "Yes, I'm fine," he says laughing. "I just wanted you to know that I appreciate our friendship. I'm very lucky to have someone like you around." You shake your head but let it go. Maybe he is just trying to make sure you aren't letting the fan comments get to you. You never have, though. So what makes him think you're starting now?
Niall: He's called several times wanting to give you his side of the story you're certain. You haven't answered him. Every time your phone rings, it's almost always him. He doesn't leave voicemails. He wants to talk to you. Your phone is lighting up again. You give it the side glance and then turn your head to focus in. If you don't listen to him, he will never stop calling. You press to answer, and wait. "Thank you for answering," he begins. His voice disgusts you. "What do you want?" You counter harshly. "I want to talk," he answers simply. "Well, I'm not that interested in talking to you." "So you aren't going to hear me out?" "What is there to hear?!" You shout back. You hadn't shouted at someone in a very long time, and with all of the emotions you have been keeping inside lately, it felt great. "I need to explain myself," he continues calmly, ignoring your outburst. "You need to explain how you ruined my life? Yeah, no thanks. I don't really want to hear it. My entire life is over because of you." "I know you think what I did was shitty." "I think? No, I know. When you said you weren't going to say anything, I trusted you. My fucking mistake, I guess. For someone who said they had such strong feelings for me, you were quick to ruin absolutely every good thing I have ever known." "That wasn't my intention," he admits, and you can't help but laugh in disbelief. "You've got to be shitting me. How else was that going to go down? Did you think no one was going see all of that? That he wasn't going fucking be sitting with me the MOMENT it came on television. Fuck you!" "I expected everyone to see it," Stephen admits as tears begin to fall from your eyes. You are getting worked up again, but now you have someone to take everything out on. "So ruining my life was your goal. Fuck, I'm so glad I met you," you reply sarcastically. "I wasn't trying to ruin your life. I knew telling everyone was the only sure way he would leave you." "You are fucking sick," you say, letting your emotions get the best of your voice. "Last time I checked, I wasn't the only one in those pictures," he counters, getting tired of you making this one sided. "Fuck you," you say with disgust. "It's the truth; you are just as much at fault." "I had more to lose!!" You scream. "You are so fucking selfish," you add. "I didn't do this just for me. I did it for you! You weren't happy," he reveals. "What are you talking about?! Of course I was happy. I had Niall, nothing else matters in my life but him." "He wasn't even around. And if you were truly happy, you wouldn't have been in my bed that night." You sit in shock at his low blow. You immediately end the phone call, taking your phone and throwing it at the fireplace. You don't even wince when it smacks the bricks. You have nothing else to say to him, or to anyone else for that matter. The tears are still falling. It had been several hours since you had cried today, but they are all coming out now. Never in the last six years did you ever think that this was how you and Niall would end. You had never been scared of losing him. Your relationship was closer than anyone's you had ever known. Not having him around never crossed your mind. What are you mean to do now that it's over? Do you fight? Do you give up? You stare across the room at your now smashed phone. How long can you go without that having to be replaced?
Louis: The door shuts behind you as the rush of the air conditioning hits your face. It was good to be home, well as close to home as you could get. Tour bus life was coming to an end,and you weren't quite sure if you would be missing this space or not. Sure you all had the bus to yourselves, but it was still a bus. An actual bed will be nice. Louis is already in the back; he's got at least four matches of FIFA in him before he crashes for the night. You had stayed behind to walk out of the venue with Harry and his friend. It was always nice having another girl around, especially one that hadn't been on tour nonstop for five years like the rest of the women around here. You had watched the show together, but now it was time for you to go your separate ways. Her back to the hotel, and you back to the bus. You go straight in to change your clothes, you can only handle tight jeans for so long. Once you have switched into sleeping attire, you head into the lounge with Louis. "About time you got back here," he comments, his eyes focused on the screen. "You jet out of there like your life depends on it; no one can keep up with you," you comment as you sit down on his side of the couch, resting your head in his lap. "Doesn't look like you've gotten a good start on this one," you comment on the match he has going on right now as he is down by two goals already. "I'm making a comeback," he assures you. "Aren't you always," you reply, looking up at him with a devious smile. "You aren't funny." His eyes continue to look ahead. You know how to fix that. You know he will get mad, but it only lasts for a few minutes until he gives in. You roll onto your stomach and sit up on your knees beside him. You lean over and begin to press your lips to his neck. "Not now," he orders, his tone harsh. You continue. You nip at his ear, getting a slight groan from him. "Not tonight," he says, shuffling his body to try and get you to back away. You move your mouth from his ear to his face, tracing his jaw with your lips. You bring on leg across his lap, completely blocking his view of his oh so important video game match. "You really are trying to be a bother, aren't you?" He inquires. He is now focusing on you; he has no choice, really. You hear the controller hit the floor of the bus. His hands are now tracing down your sides as you inch close to him. "Aren't I always?" You counter into his mouth just before pressing your lips to his. His grip instantly gets tighter on your waist as his hands remain there for now. Your hands, in contrast, are moving all over him. Down his arms, around his neck, in his hair, everywhere you know is going to turn him on. You wouldn't have been in this mood a month ago. It would have been him being the one doing whatever he could to get you turned on. He had to work a little harder than you. You were tough to crack. It's safe to say he doesn't have to try hard anymore, seeing as you are the one straddling him at the moment. Thoughts of everything between the two of you disappear as soon as you go into the mode. As soon as you pursue him, nothing else is on your mind except getting him in bed with you. It's the one thing you have learned helps make the situation easier for you. You're sure he has caught on as well. This wouldn't be an almost nighty occurrence if that were not the case. His kisses are getting harder and his hands are starting to wonder. You lift back from him, allowing him to remove your tank top. You do the same to him before you passionately collide back into him. "I want you."