Harry:It's a lazy day, you and Harry dressed clad in oversized sweaters and fuzzy socks. You were supposed to meet some friends for brunch but decided that due to the rain, you'd much prefer to stay indoors. Curling up on the little window seat in his apartment, you take it upon yourself to get some reading done as your boyfriend lounges on the sofa, his gaze fixed on you. He admires the way a smile twitches on your pink lips as you read, making him wonder what it is that you find so funny. He notices the way you reach up to adjust your glasses ever so often, remembering how you said that you desperately needed to get them fixed after he accidently sat on them last month. He lives for your quirks, your oddities, your talents and tiny things that he just happens to pick up on about you. Then out of nowhere, it hits him: he's in love, so in love that having it brought to his attention is enough to make him suck in a deep breath. You glance up from your book, startled by the noise and take in his slightly wide-eyed gaze. "You alright, H?" You ask, confused by his sudden change in attitude and wondering why in God's name he's staring at you like this. Pulling himself together, he clears his throat and nods his head, doing his best to reassure you that he hasn't lost his marbles. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a tickle in my throat, no big deal," He says, waving off your concern with a flick of his hand. While he may not have lost his marbles, he most certainly has lost his heart.
Liam:He's so sick, completely bedridden and on a diet of saltines and water, lucky enough to keep that down. The stomach bug was making it's rounds around the studio, first a few of the tour managers, then Niall, Zayn, and now poor Liam, who seems to have gotten the worst of it. When he called to cancel plans due to the fact that his body aches beyond belief, you immediately rushed over to his flat, demanding that he get his sick, little ass back in bed. Liam hates it when he's sick and often times tries to pretend that he's not so as not to be confined to his home, and in this case to not be a burden to those who are healthy. You wouldn't take no for an answer and ushered him into his bedroom, ignoring his grumbling about how it's unnecessary. "I don't know why you're arguing with me, it's not going to get you anywhere," You admonish, squinting your eyes at him and smiling at your victory, "You're sick, Liam, and you're not going to get better by avoiding it." He rolls his eyes at you, obeying your orders and slipping under the covers. He shivers, hating the fact that you have a knack for always being right. You tuck him in like a child, making sure that he's nice and warm before reaching up to place your palm on his forehead. He's definitely running a fever, and it's going to be your job to nurse him back to health. Leaning in, you plant a light his on the top of his head, "I'll go make you some tea and grab a couple movies. Do you have Nyquil?" You ask, rising from the bed as the mattress dips beneath you. He nods, a small smile tugging at his lips as you dash out of the room, a whole new wave of feelings washing over him all at once.
Louis:"Lou, why don't you let (Y/N) have a go at feeding her," Louis' mother offers, bouncing Ernest in her arms as he wails, eager for a bottle of his own. These twins are definitely giving Jay a run for her money, especially Ernest who is the vocal one of the two. Louis jokes that he's either going to grow up to be a musician like his big brother, or a politician. You glance at your boyfriend holding his new baby sister, the way he effortlessly supports her head, no ounce of anxiousness in his body language at all. "Do you want to?" He grins, not even bothering to await your answer before walking the baby over to you. You're nervous, never having really held a newborn before, much less fed one. He slowly bends down as you open your arms, trying to mimic the way his are positioned so as to not drop her. Before you know it, she's in your arms, cooing and staring up at you with innocent, blue eyes, ones that resemble Louis'. He notices your stiff nature, chuckling a bit as you observe the tiny human you're holding. "It's alright, love, relax. She's a baby, not a bomb," He jests, winking as he hands over the bottle. Shooting him a dry look, you nervously lower it to her mouth, amazed at the way she automatically takes it, drinking the formula as if she's done this a million times. You laugh breathlessly, looking up at your boyfriend in absolute wonder before letting your gaze fall back on Doris. As you cradle his little sister against your chest, a thought occurs to Louis, one that he's been toying with in his mind for weeks now: his love for you. You two have been together for six months, six happy months full of adventures and experiences that he never once thought he'd get to enjoy, especially not with someone as wonderful as you. As you're sat before him, he finds himself looking at you in a whole new light, through lover's eyes. He loves you, he's in love, and it's taken until now for him to realize he's always felt like this way about you. You're the one, and now he's sure of it.
Niall:It's a small family gathering at the Horan's. No special occasion, just enjoying the fact that Niall's home for the next few months. His mother is always adamant on making the most of it, filling his days with home cooked meals and lots of laughs with those who have known your boyfriend his entire life. Niall, his father and brother are seated at the kitchen table, Greg bouncing little Theo on his lap while he gnaws on his teething ring. You're standing on the outskirts of the kitchen, anxiously awaiting your chance to jump in and assist his mother and Denise with the food. You've been watching them from afar too many times now, and you're eager to finally start helping. After all, they keep insisting that you're basically a part of the family now, and as a part of the family, you're going to help them cook. As Niall erupts into a fit of laughter over something Theo did, you notice his mother make a move to start stirring the sauce on the stove. "Oh, here, let me do it, Mrs. Horan!" You call out, dashing to her side and beating her to it, "Go on, I've got it." You wave her off and take the wooden spoon into your hands, relishing in the impressed expression that washes over her face. All you want is to impress her, be someone that she'll gladly leave Niall in the hands of someday. Backing away from the stove, she motions for Denise to start the vegetables while she folds some of the kitchen towels. Your boyfriend just marvels at you from across the room, loving the way you never cease to amaze him. He's watched you cook so many times, everything from peanut butter and jelly to an elaborate chicken dinner. But there's something different about this: you, his mother and sister-in-law, each working together. It suddenly allows him to see a future with you, with kids and a house of your own. You glance over your shoulder and smile at him, confused by the way he's staring at you. Little do you know, your boyfriend has just fallen in love with you.
Zayn:Zayn's a bit of a complicated man, stubborn and short-tempered, but extremely sensitive and loving towards those that are close to him. He keeps you on your toes, and it's one of the things that you fancy the most in this relationship. However, it's not always easy. Usually when an argument sparks between you two, which is quite frequently, it dies down after about an hour and you two are making up and attached at the hip. But when he decides to start throwing things across the room, including your favorite coffee mug, that's when you finally draw the line. Slamming your hand down on the counter, you cause him to stop mid-sentence. "Are you fucking kidding me?" You say, your tone even yet stern, letting him know that you mean business. You've never once stood up to him like this, or at all for that matter, so this should be interesting. He slowly turns around, his face a mixture of annoyance and surprise as he crosses his arms over his chest. You try not to lose your nerve under his penetrating gaze, narrowing your eyes at him to appear more intimidating. "You're acting like a fucking child, you know that right? Stomping around, throwing dishes and mugs and basically having a temper tantrum like a toddler who didn't get his way. Grow the fuck up, Zayn, and act your age, or I swear to you I will be out that door faster than your dumb boyband sells records." Your words hang in the air, their venom lingering on your tongue as he stands there completely blindsided by your out of character hostility. He's never met anyone that's a match for him, nobody that's ever been willing to tell him that he's being an asshole. His heart wrenches, not just because he takes offense to your insults, but because the realization hits him that you're different than the rest. You're not afraid of him, which is something that's so intriguing to him. It's in this moment, when you finally put him in his place, does he realize that he's so in love with you.
