One Direction | Preferences

You get drunk and he takes care of you

You get drunk and he takes care of you

Niall: You giggle when you get tipsy, laughing and constantly resting your head against something, whether it’s the bar top or a table or even Niall’s shoulder. Niall finds it all quite amusing, because he can handle his alcohol quite well (and he’s glad he can, especially during these times, as he can witness you deteriorating quite suddenly, and make sure that you don’t end up passed out in a corner). You get touchy as well, pressed up against his side, and you’re not yelling and laughing too loud, you end up content and cuddly, tongue heavy in your mouth, able to let go and have a great time because you know that Niall’s there to take care of you.

Harry: He’s quite drunk as well, all grabby hands and flushed cheeks, and the two of you stumble out of the bar, laughing and leaning on each other, thank god there aren’t any photographers or fans around because you’re a bit of a mess. The cold wind as you walk down the street sobers you up a little bit, and you get very sleepy about halfway down, Harry’s arm wrapped around your shoulders, animated conversation you’d been having about which pasta is best dying out, your yawns interrupting your speech. You’re still a hundred metres from the car, and Harry takes it upon himself to carry you there, your arms looped around his neck as you laugh into his neck, safe and secure in his arms.

Liam: You call him to come and pick you up and he finds you in a corner of the club with your friends, too many shot glasses spreading over the table and the three you giggling and leaning on each other. There’s a unanimous shout of “Liam!” when he arrives, and you all get up, rushing to hug him, although he makes sure to keep an arm around your shoulders, guiding you and your friends towards the exit, nodding and smiling as you all reel off everything’s that’s happened, most of it not making a shred of sense. He drives everyone home, and then takes you back to his, tucking you up in his bed with a glass of water and panadol beside you.

Louis: He gets a garbled text at three in the morning, and doesn’t even think twice about heaving himself out of bed and stumbling into sweats before getting in the car to drive to the other side of the city just to go and get you, despite the fact you’ve been broken up for over five months now. He finds you sitting on the curb, a beer stain on your dress and your eyes red from crying. He sits down next to you, wrapping his arms around your shivering body, and you sob into his chest, alone on a street corner under a light. “I really miss you,” you whisper against his skin when you’ve calmed down, and his arms tighten around you, “I miss you, too.”

Zayn: You decide to have a bit of a party on your own, consisting mostly of chocolate and red wine, and by the time Zayn comes home you’re tripping on the couch corner and giggling a bit more than you normally do, and he finds it quite amusing, honestly. He manages to get a few glasses of water into you before you start to get sleepy and wrap yourself into a duvet taco, lying face down on the bed. He sits crossed legged beside you, smoothing the hair off your face when you turn to look at him and it catches on your nose, and rubs your back until you fall asleep, your last words before you drift off being, “I love you lots, Zayn.”