Harry - he tried to find you, and he did, outside by the back fence near the pot plants, where you always hid, your head buried between your knees, back shrouded against the wood and cool wind. He leant down and pried your legs apart, taking your chin and easing your eyes up to meet his. “Can I say I’m sorry?” He murmured, “I don’t get why we fight about stuff like this, about dinner and dishes and the laundry… it’s stupid and it doesn’t make any sense… I don’t like fighting with you, babe. Not about this, not about something this ridiculous. I love you.”
"I don’t like fighting with you either," you whispered quietly, shifting, the cool evening air playing your skin, wind picking up, blowing the plants around you in the space of the back yard.
"Can I take you inside?" Harry leant in a little, and watched your eyes warily, for something, anything. You nodded once dully, and he scooped you up into his arms, carrying you bridal-style back to the living room where he laid you down. "Now, I’m cooking tea, okay? And there’s nothing you can do about it…"
Liam - he lay down with you in bed, holding you closer when you tried to push him away, the big spoon comforting the little spoon, arms finding yours and holding them. “Liam, I’m sick of this…” you whispered, as he nuzzled his face into your hair.
"I’m sick of it, too… I… I don’t even know why we’re fighting, do you?"
"No," you admitted, cuddling closer to his body, his skin, his safety and warmth.
"Then let’s not do it again, okay? Can we… can we please make an agreement? That we’ll never fight again, no matter what. I don’t want to fight with you, you don’t want to fight with me, so we don’t fight. We just love each other, okay?"
You shuffled your body around to face him, “okay, I like that,” you stirred the words softly.
"Pinky promise on it?" He raised his hand and poked out his little finger, puffing his lips.
"Pinky promise," you smiled, and took his finger with yours, "I love you, babe."
Louis - he gave you space, because he needed his own, wrapping palms around the steering wheel, driving the streets alone with his lights up high and the music playing softly, telling him to calm down, that you’re worth every slice of anger coursing in his veins, that he only gets so worked up because he loves you so much. He pulled the car over, by the side of the road and called you. You picked up after two rings.
"I’m sorry," is the first thing he said, "I… I shouldn’t have stormed out like that. I just get so worked up, I… I shouldn’t have left. But I’m a bit calmer now, can I come home?"
"I miss you," was enough to let him know you were over fighting as well, "I hate that we do this. I just miss you."
"I’m coming home," he pressed his voice to the phone, sighing and turning the car back on, "I shouldn’t leave. I’ll be home in ten minutes. I love you."
Zayn - he called the boys up, and stood still in the kitchen, one hand up in frustration, asking them what to do. You fell a little against the wall in the hallway, hearing his voice dully in the back of your mind, not worrying too much about what he was saying until he said, “what can I do then, Lou? To make it up to her? I have to, I know it’s always my fault but I just keep screwing up, and we keep fighting… how do I keep her?”
You wiped your eyes and listened, blinking back fresh tears, sleeves up to cull them when they came, breathing heavy sobs and trying to calm yourself down.
"I… I love her too much, guys, but I… I don’t know what to do, it’s not getting any easier… I just… love her."
"I love you too," you murmured quietly, getting to your feet and walking slowly into the kitchen, raising your voice, "Zayn, I love you too." He hung up the phone quickly, with eyes that refused to leave yours, so you repeated what you said, "I love you, I love you so much, babe, I love you. I’m sorry, and I love you."
"Oh, babe," Zayn’s features feathered an aching for you, "come here…"
Niall - he tried to talk to you, because he couldn’t take the silence. He sat down next to you, pillow to your chest, as you watched the only distraction you could think of - TV. He rested his hand on your knee, taking it back when you sighed frustratedly, eventually muting the television and turning to your eyes. “Can we please talk, babe? Don’t do this, okay? That was, without a doubt, the stupidest fight I have ever had and I don’t think we should stay mad at each other, not worth it, babe…”
"So I’m not dragging you down?" You scowled the words, refusing to meet his gaze.
"No, no, I didn’t meant that, babe…" he attempted a smile, leaning in, "just like you didn’t mean it when you said I had stupid hair…" You laughed in spite of yourself, and grazed his cheek with your hand, "your hair is kind of stupid, though," you smiled, leaning in as he did the same.
"But you love it," he grinned.
"I do, I really do," you did the same, dropping the rest of your own words for a kiss.
YOU ARE READING
One Direction Prefrences and Imagines
FanfictionIf you ever need to escape your life then this is the right place to be! My name is holland and I'll write what you think is cool and want to hear, Have fun and don't forget that maybe one day this could happen!
