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The weather outside is frightful

Posted by: bringthepaayne

Harry: (since we've no place to go) it's nice because you've actually got literally nothing to do, and that hasn't happened in ages. Harry's been in LA for the past couple days and you've been in London, cuddled up in the bed you usually share or shopping on Boxing Day with your mum. you probably haven't just enjoyed each other's presence since before the TMH tour. sure, you had time alone when tour finished, but even then you either couldn't keep your hands off each other, Harry was exhausted (and rightfully so), or someone or other was visiting. you spent Christmas together, too, but that didn't really count either because you were all over the place, visiting the boys and family and whoever else. but now it's two days before New Year's Eve and you two are snuggled up in bed, you wrapped up in Harry's sweater and Harry wrapped up in you. there are probably things you should be doing, but you can't care; you're too busy listening to the steady beat of Harry's heart and he's too busy twirling your hair around his finger and wondering how in the world he got so lucky.

Liam: (the lights are turned way down low) he walks into the room and flicks on the light, rousing you so quickly you shriek. "what the bloody-" you start, but stop when you see Liam standing in the doorway to your shared bedroom, arms crossed over his chest, a grin on his face and that hungry gleam in his eye you've missed so much. you kick off the covers and basically launch yourself at him, your arms wrapping around his neck and your bare legs wrapping around his waist. he catches you with ease and holds you up, attaching his lips to your neck and squeezing your ass enough to pull a giggle out of you, burying your face in his hair. "missed you, baby," he whispers against your skin and you reach behind him to turn the light off before he lays you back on the bed, lips moving from your neck to your chest. he hikes your shirt up, dimly recognizing it as his, before pulling it over your head and tossing it somewhere. he licks down your stomach and settles on his knees before you, looking up at you through heavy-lidded eyes. you can't see him, but you can feel his breath on your inner thighs when he laughs before diving right in.

Louis: (how I'll hate going out in the storm) "you don't have to come over, Lou," you say into the phone, running a hand through your hair. "it's snowing out and it's cold and dangerous and I-" he cuts you off with a laugh. "you're bloody right it's cold out here!" he says. "now hurry up and open the door!" the line goes dead as there's a sharp knocking on your apartment door and you almost trip over your feet rushing over to open it. Louis is on the other side, covered in snow and slush, his cheeks bright red with cold and his eyes watering from the wind. he's shivering like mad when he pulls his coat off and you immediately rush at him, wrapping your arms around him as guilty tears fill your eyes. a traitorous sob escapes your lips and you hear him gasp softly, petting your hair and shushing you. "hey, love," he whispers, taking your face in his hands while you cry into your own. he kisses your forehead so tenderly it only makes you cry harder and he pulls you into his chest and slumps to the floor, gathering you into his lap. "I'll always come if you need me," he murmurs. "I'll always be there, no matter what."

Niall: (when we finally kiss goodnight) you're at his place, the two of you deciding to spend your fourth date in, watching movies on Niall's couch, sharing a giant bowl of popcorn and laughing together, Niall's arm draped around your shoulders. it's midnight before you know it, so you get up and gather your things. "I better go," you say halfheartedly, rubbing the back of your neck. "oh, yeah," Niall says, getting up so quickly he almost trips over the coffee table. he walks you to the door and helps you into your coat, smiling at you in the dim light. "I had a really great time, Niall," you say, leaning in to kiss his cheek. you try to move away but he stops you, one hand going around your neck and the other slipping inside your coat to rest on your hip. he ghosts his lips over yours once, teasing you, begging you to chase him for more. and you do, oh god, do you ever. his lips are chapped like he's been biting them the whole night, tasting dimly like buttered popcorn and you can't stop kissing him. when you pull away, you notice he's managed to get your coat off and onto the floor and you're breathless when he looks at you and says "maybe you should stay the night."

Zayn: (if you really hold me tight) he's mad. he's so mad and he's not entirely sure why, but he does know that he's not mad at you. he's sick of it all, of the cameras flashing in his face and the stupid paps hurting his friends and you and he wants to rip his hair out he's so mad. and that's how he finds himself on your doorstep, his knees shaking because it's cold and of course he didn't think to grab a jacket before he left. you're a little confused because his cheeks are red and his eyes are bloodshot like he's been crying and there's snow in his quiff and he looks so unlike Zayn standing there that you kind of want to cry with him. "'m sorry," he says automatically, "I shoulda...I shoulda called you, or something." he wipes his eyes on his sleeve and his shoulders slump a little lower and you just pull him inside and into your kitchen before your parents can notice. you make him a cup of tea and make him sit on the counter while you stand between his knees and get him to tell you what's wrong. he's crying again by the end of it and you put your arms around his waist and let him cry against your shoulder until he feels better.