One Direction | Preferences

You trick him into crying when you know he has too

You coax him into crying when you know he needs to.

A/N: (Kind of.) This preference is all a little vague, but I hope you like it anyway. x

Niall: It’s more exhausted tears, he seems to ache right to his bones and by the time he gets home and sinks onto the couch, his fingers are shaking and he can’t quite stop them. You peer out from the bedroom, bottom lip tucked between your teeth when you find him face down on the sofa, groaning quietly. “Ni?” There’s a soft ‘harrumph’ in return, and you pad over, tucking your hair behind your ear to lean down, stroking the fringe from his eyes when he rolls his head over. “Everything okay?” “I’m so tired.” He voice shakes a little bit at the end, and his eyes glitter, shimmering with tears. Your forehead creases with worry as you tug him up into a standing position, letting him tuck his face into your neck. “Let’s go sleep then.” “I can’t move,” the words catch in his throat and you wrap your arms around him, lips brushing his jaw. “I’ll help you.” His chest shudders with the suppressed gasp of air, and his weight rests against you as he finally relaxes, “Thank you.” You don’t mention the tear that falls onto your shoulder.

Harry: He has a headache and he’s been working full on for the past two weeks, appearing at events and playing concerts and launching the book, and when he comes home he seems to be leaning on everything, not quite able to hold his body up. He’s constantly rubbing his eyes and his voice is shaky, teeth sinking into his bottom lip when you smooth the hair back from his face. “Are you okay?” He shrugs, looking a little like a boy and quite helpless. “Don’t know. Don’t know anything anymore.” “That’s not true,” you mumble, dragging the flat of your thumb along his cheek. “Feel likes it.” His face crumples, the whole situation seeming to crack, and he’s burying his face in your shoulder, body shuddering with the silent sobs. 

Liam: You come home to a silent apartment, the corridor seeming to echo with the silence, and the back of your neck prickles with the sense that something isn’t quite right. You shrug your coat off as you walk through the flat, looking for Liam, until you poke your head into the bedroom, and find a lump covered in blankets on the bed, your dog looking concerned and curled up on the floor beside him, tail thumping on the floorboards at the sight of you. “Li?” At first, you wonder if he’s asleep, but then the lump shifts, and something that is obviously legs stretch out beneath the comforter. “Babe, are you okay?” You cross the room, lifting the covers, to find a pink cheeked, devastated looking boy huddled up under them. “God, what happened?” You crawl beneath the sheets to hug him, resting a hand on the back of his neck and smoothing his hair back. “Nothing,” his breath hitches and your stomach drops, “I just… you know.” “Yeah,” you rest your chin on top of his head and rub the back of his head soothingly, his back shuddering while he cries, “Yeah, I know, Liam. But it’ll be okay.”

Louis: He calls you during your lunch break, and immediately you know something’s gone wrong. He’s voice is wavering and quiet instead of the usual greeting, excited to say hello to his best girl. “Hey, Lou. Is everything okay?” “I, yeah, I mean… no. No, it’s not okay. Nothing’s okay.” You can hear the lump in his throat and you’re already hunching over, pressing the phone closer to your ear as if you could fall through it and get to him faster. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” It’s quiet, and you can hear him rubbing his face, “…No.” “It’s alright to be upset, darling, I’m so sorry. I’ll come right now, okay?” The next words are muffled by his hand covering his mouth, “Please hurry.” There’s a great shuddering intake of breath on the line, and you rub your own eyes fiercely as you listen to all the tell-tale signs of Louis crying. “Sit tight, Lou, I’m coming.”

Zayn: You can tell Zayn’s awake as well as soon as you blink your eyes open, you’re alarm clock blaring the numbers of 2.49 at you. There’s a thick energy to the room, and you can hear him stirring, sitting up and rubbing his face before lying back down. You roll over, yawning into your hand. “Everything okay, Z?” He hesitates before replying, and his voice is rough, growing quieter every letter. “Yeah.” “Are you sure?” You rest a hand on his back, and can feel his shoulder blades flexing, obviously working against holding something back. He’s facing away from you, but he sighs quietly at the contact, relaxing a little. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be okay.” “You don’t know that,” he whispers, before rolling over as well, and his eyes are big and scared and wet, glittering in the dark. “Of course I know that,” you smile reassuringly, wiping a tear from his cheek, “Everything always is.” “Sorry I’m such a mess,” He mumbles, but you shake your head, shifting closer, “You’re not a mess, just human.”