One Directon Preferences

Running Away

Louis: "Three interviews, a photoshoot and then another interview," Louis frowns, scrolling through the schedule on his phone. "I thought you had a day off," you pout, cradling your chin in your palms. "I was supposed to," he grumbles, sadly shaking his head. "I guess not anymore." You frown at your half packed suitcase and shake your head. Your last day with him and he would be working? He notices your disappointment and suddenly turns off his phone, chucking it onto the bed. "Come on, then," he smirks, grabbing your hand. "We're going to run away. No interviews or photoshoots, just me and you in Rio. I'll worry about the consequences tomorrow." He kisses the top of your hand before grabbing your jackets and ushering you outside into the beautiful city. 

Harry: "Help, I'm bored out of my wits and up to my ears in homework," you text him, turning back to your history textbook with disdain. "Okkk," his reply says nearly seconds later. You raise a confuse eyebrow but decide he was probably just kidding or maybe he was really busy, he was in town today but he had a matinee concert before and he was probably at some interview or meeting. Almost fifteen minutes later the doorbell rings and you nearly lose it "Da da da dunn, I'm here to rescue you," he beams, his sweatshirt tied around his neck in a cape-like fashion. "Super Harry?" you laugh, shaking your head. "Yes, and we're going to run away from the evil homework," he begins, taking you by the hand and grabbing your coat from the rack. "And go to dinner." 

Zayn: "I'm so tired of all of this and them," he frowns, glancing out the window at the paparazzi swarming the hotel's entrance. "I guess we should cancel our dinner reservations," you decide, knowing that going around New York City would be nearly impossible with these kinds of crowds of fans and cameras who knew his location. "I'm sorry," he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you. "It's not your fault," you admit, wishing the cameras would just go away, wishing you could both just run away. "Wait a minute," he says suddenly, running into the other part of the hotel room and making a quick call. "Let's go," he grabs your hand and leads you towards the hotel staircase. "Where are we going?" He smiles and shakes his head, the two of you racing up stairs towards the roof. "We're running away and having room service dinner," he explains, opening up the door and revealing the city skyline. "On the roof." 

Niall: "I'm so bored," Niall whispers, watching the dozens of people preparing for the upcoming award show. He and the boys didn't have to perform for another three hours, but management insisted he stay on the premises just in case. "Me too," you admit, leaning on his shoulder and watching someone sweep the floor. "We have to stay here, it sucks," he mumbles, running his fingers through the ends of your hair. "Let's run away, then," you propose, sitting up. "Let's sneak away and make it back before we get caught!" A devilish look flickers over his eyes and he smiles. "How...bad ass," he laughs, jumping up and grabbing your hand. "Let's do it." 

Liam: "This party is extremely boring," Liam whispers, eying the fancy dresses and frowning at the classical music. "It's very grown-up and boring," you whisper back, eyeing a dish of caviar with disdain. "Well, we were on the red carpet and we took pictures already," he begins slowly, toying with a glass of champagne. "So technically we don't have to stay any longer?" you finish with a smile. "Technically, yes. Let's run away," he grins, setting down the glass and eyeing the exit. "Let's go to Burger King," you laugh, patting his tuxedo and smoothing out your floor-length gown. "We'll be the best dressed people there," he laughs, grabbing your hand and quietly sneaking out the door.