One Direction Preferences

#74: Drunk

Niall: “Aw, baby”, he blurts out, not aware of the words slipping from his parted lips. There’s an arm around your shoulders now, placed there in attempt to support his weight as he hiccups a small bubble which manages to send some strange sensation through his heated body. “Just”, you say, still laughing at his actions, “just shut up.” You laugh yet again, your reaction entertaining him. “Oh, I’ll shut you up”, he says before leaning in to give you one of those meaningless drunken kisses.

Zayn: He’s quite loud, impossible to stand on one place for longer than few moments. You find it hard to catch him, to grab his arm in attempt to pit him asleep and calm him down from al of the craziness. “Zayn!” you warn the giggly one, his small chuckle audible through the warm space. “Zayn, just get off your shirt”, you sigh, fingers struggling to remove the fabric from his unsteady body. “Babe, if you want me so bad, you could’ve just said so.”

Louis: “When are we going home?” he says - screams - leaning in on the door of his own apartment. “Calm down, you’re going to wake up the entire complex”, you warn the louder one while trying to unlock the door. “You know, this would be a lot easier if you just told me which key is here to open it up.” You sigh in discontent; he doesn’t notice you, but continues searching for amusement around the hall. “Come here so I can take you to the bed”, you groan, opening the door for him. “You won’t let me buy you dinner first?”  he questions before cracking up at his lame joke.

Liam: You can find him stumbling back to your house a way past the first time you fell asleep. His stumbling legs make it hard to walk properly, stumbling over the first step he finds. Chuckle vibrates through his chest when he finds himself on floor, a single scratch already adorning the side of his palm. “Liam?” you question when you find a boy sitting on front of the open door, huge smile lighting up his entire face. “What are you doing here? Are you drunk?” Smile curls the corners of his lips when he looks up at you. “Yeah. I just wanted to see you.”

Harry: “Harry? Harry?” you call after the drunk one, his presence not located anywhere next to the chair you left him. Your heart skips a beat, possible explanations floating through your head. “Over here”, you hear the voice calling you down the hall. You stumble down only to reveal a sleepy boy, a single blanket lazily thrown over his larger frame which angel face doesn’t seem to match. “What are you doing here?” you ask, sitting on the edge. “I’m sleepy now”, he confesses, eyelids covering shiny eyes. Sigh leaves your parted lips when you get up, the length of his fingers encircling around your wrist. “Stay”, he whispers, force of his hand pulling you back down.