Harry: You can hear the fans outside the bus, trying to get in or get the boys to come out, like they’re zombies or something.Harry and you were curled up on one of the sofas, watching Niall and Louis play FIFA while they waited for the show to start. His head was in your laps and your fingers were combing through his hair which was really getting quite long, so long that you could almost… Yeah. “What are you doing?” He asked as he felt the movement of your fingers change. “Braiding. You’ll look cute, H.” He sighed but dropped his head back again, letting you continue until he had several braids hidden away in his lion mane of hair, and that was all that he knew for a few brief moments. Not the fans outside, or his boys in front of him. It was just you and him, in your own little world.
Niall: A loud thunderstorm had appeared from nowhere. Booming across the sky and echoing through your quiet home. It was terrifying and you curled into his side, looking for some solace. His hand was curled around the back of your neck as you tucked your face into his throat, breathing in his scent and his heartbeat, pulsing there under your lips. “Shh,” he whispered, brushing his fingers up and down the length of your neck. “It’s just a storm. It’ll be over in a little while. Listen to the rain, babe. I could make a song out of this.” He began humming and continued drawing patterns on the back of your neck until all the outside sound of the storm faded away and his heartbeat and humming and breathing became all that you could hear.
Liam: Time and time again, you’d reminded him that you had a fear of crowds and he should just break up with you so he never had to deal with you in a fan crowd or at an award show or something, but he never did and you didn’t have an encounter until far into the relationship. The fans and the world knew all about you, of course, but they’d never caught you and Liam out in pubic because he was so careful with you. Then came their second movie premiere and he didn’t have to ask if you’d be coming along since you’re his girlfriend and both of you knew that you’d be there. When the night actually came and you stepped out of the car with him, the nerves you’d been feeling since dawn squeezed into an even tighter ball in the pit of your stomach. Liam must’ve seen your face clench up because he wrapped his arm around your waist as you walked, rubbing gentle circles on your hip. “Hey, look at me, baby. It’s only you and me. Just forget about all the rest.” With his constant circles tingling on your skin through your dress, and his cinnamon eyes stuck on yours, everything else melted away so that it was only the two of you.
Louis: The boys hated it when they were all together and you were there and Louis paid them no attention, too busy whisper-giggling into your mouth, and forgetting that the rest of the world existed. It was adorable, obviously, but after three months of it, it grew to be annoyingly cute. If you were in the same room as him, it was guaranteed that you’d both be pressed together, noses and arms and legs and chests, exchanging light kisses and giggles and hushed words breathed over the other’s lips. Sometimes the boys honestly believed that you both forgot about the rest of the world. Not until they were at an award show and you’d managed to get a seat right beside Louis, did they realize the world was eclipsed by your own little one that you and Louis had created. The whole night you were doing the whole, whisper-giggling thing, and when the band was announced to have won whatever award it was, they all jumped to their feet, but Louis stayed glued to your side, oblivious. Until Liam reached over and literally dragged him away and up to the stage to accept the award.
Zayn: It was so strange, becoming a part of his world. He’d gone from not knowing you existed, to you being an important piece of his everyday life. And now you were cuddled with him in his too large bed, wrapped in warm sheets and happiness, and you never wanted to crawl back out into the harsh reality that waited just outside the blankets. His fingers were tangled with yours, keeping you anchored in his bed. His touch was hot and tingly and soft and it distracted even your mind from wandering. You both had obligations waiting. He was supposed to be working on writing a song and then recording some of the ones that had already been written, and you were meant to be working and catching up with your family - all of which you hadn’t seen since your relationship with him had begun. But his touch was your anchor that kept you from worrying about the rest of the world. Just his palm pressed to yours or his fingers trailing over the back of your hand. It was so strange, but he was a part of your world that couldn’t go away.
