Harry:
He was completely unaware as you watched him from your spot in the doorway. You loved to watch the way he prepared for a show, studying his movements, and his habits. Pre show rituals were extremely important to Harry, and he never skipped a step. It all started with brushing his teeth. Top to bottom. Side to side. Each of his brush strokes had a pattern, and a purpose to them. You tired not to giggle as you watched his mouth foam up with toothpaste. It amazed you that even while brushing his teeth, he somehow, still managed to take your breath away. Smiling, you adored the composure on his chiseled features as he diligently picked up his silver cross necklace, slipping the chain carefully around his neck, hooking the two ends together. Sliding the clasp into place near the back, he held the pendant between his thumb and forefinger and kissed the hammered metal once with his smooth pink lips. Just then, his head popped up, and his emerald eyes fell to your smirking face. Returning a smile, he crossed over to you in three short strides, and took your face gently between his large hands. “And now for the most important ritual of all,” he whispered, covering your lips perfectly with his.
Liam:
His energy levels appeared off the charts, too much adrenaline pumping through his veins to sit still for longer than a minute at a time. He punched the air, honing his boxing skills. Right, left, right left. Grunting with all his might, as he bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet. The muscles in his biceps flexed and pulsed as he moved, straining against the soft fabric of his plain black t-shirt. “Liam, you’re gonna wear yourself out before you even get on stage,” you murmured, eyeing him up as he dropped to the floor, suddenly starting in on a set of pushups. “I’ll be fine,” he reassured, grunting between each action, “it calms me down.” Shaking your head, you couldn’t help but smile. You swore one of the sexiest things in the world was watching Liam workout. “I know something that might use some of that extra energy,” you whispered, smirking at him. He met you with stunned eyes, coffee irises soon growing dark with lust. Within seconds he was on top of you. Crashing his lips to yours in hurried kisses, he pressed your body flat to the sofa you sat on. His big, strong hands clenched your waist in desperation, pulling you in as close as he possibly could. You twisted your fingers in his gelled hair, head falling back with desire as his lips found the tender skin behind your ear.
Louis:
He sat with his back facing you, as Lou expertly ran a brush and a hairdryer through his long, chestnut colored hair. You sauntered quietly into the room, cradling a steaming cup of tea in your small hands. Louis’ sea blue eyes met yours in the reflection of the mirror, and he gave you a warm smile. It was a look that gave your heart a jolt, causing it to beat just a little faster inside your chest. It was simple moments like that, little glances, and quick exchanges that made coming on tour with him worthwhile. It certainly cured that usual ache of missing him. Coming up beside him, you handed him the warm mug, placing a quick kiss to his cheek. The blow dryer cut out, and Lou excused herself to retrieve a bottle of mouse. “Just as good as mine,” he teased, taking a long sip from the ceramic mug. You smiled, taking a slow step closer. Smirking up at you, he kept his gaze locked on yours as you pushed a dainty hand through his tousled hair. “I like your hair this long,” you whispered, “it’s sexy.” Slinking his arms seamlessly around your waist, he pulled you closer. “Oh yeah?” he chuckled, “how sexy?” Leaning your weight into his capable hands, you lowered your smiling lips to his. “Undeniably sexy,” you purred, your voice like a whisper against his soft, pink lips.
Zayn:
Strolling into the deserted dressing room, you glanced around at the racks of clothes and empty hangers left strewn around the room. “Zayn?” you called into the room, picking up the dark denim vest lying across the back of an empty chair, “you in here?” Stepping out from behind the long racks, he leisurely pulled the plain white muscle shirt into place over his tattoo marked torso. “Hey, love,” he hummed, his brown eyes the color of gold as he smiled back at you, “almost ready. Just need my–.” He stopped, spying the vest you held tenderly in your grasp. “Let me,” you crooned, holding open the worn fabric for him. Chuckling, he turned around, slipping his arms through the jacket holes. “Well, what do ya think, babe?” he asked, spinning back around to face you, striking a pose like a model. “look good?” “I love it almost as much as I love the man wearing it,” you giggled, smoothing the soft, cotton fabric across his toned chest. Stepping into his embrace, he grinned down at you. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered, gently pressing a kiss to the top of your head, as he held you tight in his arms.
Niall:
As the last chords of the electric guitar faded away with the breeze, Niall smiled out at you where you stood in front of the stage. “You guys sounded amazing,” you sang, ambling over to him just as he climbed down from the sprawling stage. “Thanks, princess,” he crooned, slipping his strong arms around your waist as he peppered your face in a dozen playful kisses. His topaz blue eyes twinkling in the sun, he glanced quickly around the widespread stadium. Niall gripped your hand tightly in his, pulling you along beside him. “C’mon,” he laughed, smirking at you, “I need a picture of this. I wanna show the fans.” You admired his carefree attitude, and the pure love he held for his millions of adoring fans. Face tugging into a warm smile, you took the silver iPhone from his outstretched hand. “Take it for me?” he asked, stopping in the middle of the expansive field. Stretching his arms out wide, he tipped his grinning face to the sky overhead. Heart leaping for the man in front of you, you centered the shot, and snapped a picture-perfect photo. “Perfect,” you lulled, handing him the phone. “Not quite…” he hummed, drawing you into his arms once more. He pressed his lips firmly to yours, as he held his phone out at arms length, capturing the moment forever.
