One Direction | Preferences

Eye Contact...

Eye Contact…

A/N: Suggestions for the 150th preference? x

Niall: Is enchanting. His eyes are really quite lovely, a pretty, sparkling blue colour that swirls and fades and kaleidoscopes if you stare long enough. They’re prettiest in the morning, when he blinks awake and you get to smile at him and greet him with the day. And he’s soft and warm and cuddly, mumbling for ‘five more minutes’, and you get the pleasure of watching him wake up and his eyes clear and focus, and they’re so beautiful. 

Harry: Is awkward. Ever since the clumsy, hurried kiss outside your front door you’ve been avoiding each other, avoiding the feelings that are slowly rising up in your chest, and now, here he is, shuffling his feet nervously, your gazes locked, unable to move, unable to speak. Waiting for someone to say the first word, either shattering hopes, or tentatively beginning a new relationship. 

Liam: Is warm. His eyes are sometimes amber, sometimes deep brown, framed with long dark eyelashes that stick together when he rubs them. They’re chocolaty and warm and the heat rises in your cheeks every time you catch his glance for a second too long, his lips quirking up into an amused smile as you blush, gaze flashing back down to your feet. But his equally warm hand comes to rest beneath your chin, tilting your head back up for him to carefully press a kiss to your mouth.

Louis: Is worrisome. You haven’t seen him for months, a good part of that time you spent crying and eating chocolate and sleeping on your friends couches because you couldn’t face going back to your empty apartment alone, your relationship with him in pieces. And now, here he is, in the same room, chatting to people and drinking a beer, casual and relaxed like usual, and everything seems perfectly normal. Except that his eyes keep flicking to yours, and there’s only so many times you can drag your gaze away.

Zayn: Is stomach flipping. He’s mysterious and dangerous and he smokes cigarettes for gods sake. You swore you’d never date someone who smoked, it was a disgusting habit, rotting his body from the inside, but here you were, perched on a couch in the dim living room of a house party, Zayn watching you from where he’s standing in the corner with Anthony, sucking in the smoke and then blowing it carefully out, smirking knowingly at you as he keeps the eye contact. And it’s wrong and unlike you but you’re drawn to him and his caramel skin and pretty, pretty eyes that hold so many secrets.