One Direction Imagines and Preferences

Waking up hand in hand

Louis: He chuckles as your eyes flutter open, watching you adjust to your surroundings and beaming to himself when you begin to tug your arm up and rub at bleary eyes. Glancing down at your interlocked hands, skin contrasting against yours and warmth radiating through your body at the thought that even in sleep, the two of you gravitate towards each other’s touch, you smile sleepily at Louis. He only tightens his grip on your hand as you curl back into his frame, the lulling sound of his sweet nothings and murmurs putting you back to rest.

Harry: Eyes opening to blinding brightness, the view through a window, crossing over a bridge early in the day. Your mind registers where you are, on a roadtrip and you’d left earlier that morning, falling asleep almost immediately, your eyes adjust to the light, peering over at Harry in the driver’s seat. His hand rests on the steering wheel casually, sunglasses over his eyes, hair a mess, the other hand laced tightly between your own fingers. Squeezing his hand lightly, he looks over at you, smile adorning his face, pressing a kiss to the back of your locked hands.

Niall: His eyes flutter open, slowly before opening all at once, to the feeling of your eyes on him. He gazes up at you questioningly, confused by your endeared stare and lightly flushed cheeks, framed by messy hair. You nod your chin in the direction of your connected hands, tightly, even for sleep, and his eyes widen. He can feel the blush rising up his neck and chews down on his lower lip, sighing out because he is so embarrassingly and madly in love. He gestures for you to lie back down, tugging the covers far over both of your heads, giggling wildly and kissing your knuckles.

Zayn: He wakes before you, and that in itself is new. But he goes to sit up, only then sensing that new feeling of your hand in his. His heart swells and he smiles in silence to himself, because he can tell, even from the first morning, that he won’t have to feel the lonliness of waking up alone anymore. The warmth of your palm against his, fingers grazing his knuckles, twitching slightly in deep sleep. He ducks down to plant a light kiss to your forehead, deciding against starting the day off early, because he doesn’t want to wake you. And he wants to be hand in hand with you for as long as he can, really.

Liam: Waking with a struggle, turned away from the warm body you’re so used to using as a second pillow, arm pulled back behind you at a strange angle, you sniffle. Using your free hand to wipe away traces of tear-stained streaks of makeup, wrinkling your nose at the cold feeling of the bed, only to stir slightly at the sound of a quiet hiccup beside you. Seeing him beside you then, arm stretched back at the same angle to meet your fingers, sleeping and trembling in his sleep. Murmuring his name then, around broken apologies, everything changes, just by the feel of his fingers tangled in yours even when things are rocky, loosely, but still there.