One Direction | Preferences

Stammers

Stammers

A/N: Sweet nervous boys. Enjoy. I love feedback? x

Niall: These come when Niall’s presented with his first child, the tiny newborn wrapped in a blue blanket, equally blue eyes blinking up at him. There are nurses and doctors and various family members milling around, as well as you still lying in the hospital bed, but everything seems to freeze in that moment as Niall tries to find the words, gaze flashing to you as he grins, tears glittering, because the only thing he can find to describe this is perfect.

Harry: Harry’s always been confident, not arrogantly so, but just enough so that he’s comfortable in himself and with those around him. Except for you. There’s something about you and your voice and smile and eyes that completely bowls him over, so he’s left scrambling for something witty to say or a joke to make. But nothing comes and he’s left to laugh at himself, rubbing his arm nervously, “Sorry, I guess you make me nervous.”

Liam: He’s trying to convince you that this is the right thing, this is the right thing to do, for you to be with him and only him, your best friend who, after all this time, is completely in love with you. He waves his hands around in frustration, trying to make a point, explain to you how he can make you happy, but you just smile at him, beam at him, actually, because your decision has already been made. Maybe it always was. Of course you’re going to be with Liam. 

Louis: He’s doing everything in his power not to let you walk out the door. Because god knows what will happen if you do. If you leave, you might not come back, and he can’t quite bear that, not yet, not now. So he begs and yells and grabs your arm, but it’s only when you’re looking up at him, blinking back tears, and asking why, why should I stay Louis, give me one good reason, that words fail him. Because, really, why should you stay with a fuck up like him? 

Zayn: He almost trips over and lands on his face when Louis shoves him forward and towards you, so you have to grab his shoulders with a quiet ‘whoa’, steadying him, laughing warmly. “You okay there?” He grins, amber eyes lighting up, and nods, “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He goes to say something else, but you distract him, simply by standing and waiting, smiling up at him, and his tongue stumbles over the sentence, so he’s left to clear his throat, apologising and starting again, a delighted, “Hi.”