one direction preferences / imagines

"to say i love you..."

Louis: "Louis? Can I ask you something?" You laid on your back, hands resting on your stomach, eyes trained on the ceiling overhead. "Sure, love." He rolled over onto his side to face you, propping himself up on his elbow. You licked your lips, trying to keep your nerves from overshadowing your courage. You didn't look at him as you spoke, feeling too nervous to meet his intense blue eyes. Instead you absentmindedly picked at the edge of your thumb nail. "What do you see, when you look at me?" He furrowed his eyebrows momentarily and said, "what do you mean? You're my best friend..." He trailed off, not sure of what you were asking. The two of you had been friends for years, always there for the other one whenever life took a sour turn. You watched him date quite a few girls over the course of your friendship. A few of them turning into long term relationships, others just short term flings. You on the other hand, never had much luck with guys. And your experience was limited when it came to relationships. Louis was the one guy who you felt totally comfortable around. It was easy to be yourself, and never feel like you had to be something you weren't. Louis bit his lip, contemplating his word choice. "I see a determined, smart, kind hearted girl." You closed your eyes, and he continued on, "I see someone who's independent but stubborn," he poked your side playfully, "but mostly, I see someone who is incredibly beautiful, and sexy." He trailed his fingers down your arm, and you turned to look at him. He smiled softly, eyes scanning your face. "So very beautiful." He stroked your cheek, and placed his lips carefully to yours. Using his kiss to say, I love you.

Niall: He watched you as you sat in his childhood home, chatting to his mum at the kitchen table. You wore a brilliant white smile as your face lit up with laughter. Your eyes were shining bright with amusement at a joke he hadn't heard. He had no doubt it was some embarrassing childhood story about him. He'd brought you home, for a long weekend, to meet his mum, and the two of you had instantly hit it off. You had been chatting all morning, over a cup of tea, like two old friends catching up. He would have sworn the two of you had always known each other, by the way you carried on. He stood there, in the doorway admiring you. Watching the way you used your hands to gesture as you spoke. He memorized how you sat, one leg crossed over the other, looking elegant even in a simple pair of jeans. You would tuck your hair behind your ear, revealing your porcelain skin, and flushed cheeks. He'd never seen anyone look as beautiful as you did that day, smiling and laughing. It was easy for him to imagine the two of you living in a house like this someday. He walked into the room, first kissing his mum on the cheek, and then placing his hand on your shoulder, rubbing smooth circles into the fabric of your t-shirt. "I'll leave you two alone for a bit," his mother cooed, giving you a wink, and whispering something in Niall's ear. "Hey beautiful." He leaned in, kissing you once, softly on the cheek, and then again, more forcefully on the lips. You smiled, as he took your hand in his. "Your mom is wonderful, Niall. So full of life. It's easy to see where you get your carefree spirit." He chuckled, "yeah, she's something special. Not unlike yourself." You blushed, looking down at your lap. He tipped your chin up to meet his gaze, "I love ya, (Y/N). I've fallin so in love with ya."

Liam: He watched you as you slept, your eyes fluttering occasionally in their sleepy state. You were wearing one of his soft t-shirts, your long hair resting in waves around your face on the pillow. He touched your arm, your skin warm and smooth under his fingertips. His eyes wandered over every inch of your body, taking in the beautiful dips and curves. It didn't matter how many times he touched you, or how often he watched you as you slept peacefully beside him, each time still felt like the first. He could remember the first time he saw you. He instantly knew you were something special, someone he had to have in his life. After getting to know you, he'd soon realized that his life had been mediocre before you came to be a part of it. You made his world brighter, with just the simple way you smiled. He loved the way your laugh filled a room, and the way you spoke his name. Your voice soft and sweet. Each day his heart grew fonder. And here with you now, his pulse was racing as your sleeping body captivated his attention. It was safe to say he loved you in more ways than he knew how to express. You had captured his heart, and he was more than willing to give you the key.

Zayn: He walked out of his graffiti room, and he could hear music coming from somewhere in the house. He checked in the bedroom for you, but the room was empty. He walked down the hall to the kitchen, the music growing louder as he approached. His face broke into a wide grin as his eyes fixed on your body, dancing around in your underwear and a tank top, a wooden spoon clutched in your dainty fingers. You were singing into the spoon as if it were a microphone, belting out the lyrics at full volume. Zayn rested his weight against the door frame taking in the sight of your body swaying to the beat. When the first song came to an end, slowly fading into the next, he clapped his hands, startling you. You whirled around to face him, eyes wide in surprise. "Zayn. You scared me. How long have you been standing there?" He laughed, walking over to you, taking your waist in his hands. "Long enough to enjoy the show." He smirked, his rich brown eyes were shining with mischief. You swatted his chest playfully, feeling your cheeks turn warm and pink under his gaze. "I love watching you move like that. You're so sexy." You smiled, moving your hips to the beat of the music, you held his hands firmly to your hips, swirling them in a circular motion. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't love this," he teased, kissing you once on the lips, before joining in.

Harry: His head could be all over the place, a million different things going through his mind at once. And then, you'd flash him that sweet smile of yours, instantly bringing his head out of the fog. You were always doing little things to make him smile, or to brighten his day. Now it was his turn. He'd gotten two dozen long stem roses, and he'd picked up the diamond ring he'd chosen specially for you. He walked into the house, flowers in hand, jewelry box tucked away in his jacket pocket. "Hello, love." He came up behind you, placing the flowers in front of your eyes, kissing you tenderly on the cheek. "Oh my gosh. Harry, they're stunning! Thank you." You turned around to face him, his green eyes shining with a newfound excitement. You threw your arms around his neck, hugging him tight, kissing him swiftly on the lips. "What did I do to deserve this?" You asked, filling a vase with water, and arranging the flowers neatly. He grasped your hand in his, leading you to a chair at the kitchen table. "Sit," he instructed sweetly, pulling out a chair. You smiled, eyes wide with curiosity. "(Y/N)." He took a deep breath, "for the past few years, you have been a constant source of light in my life. Always there to comfort me, make me laugh, or just to listen." Your throat began to feel thick, you could already feel tears threatening to form in your eyes. "There is no one I love more than you in this world. And there is no one I would rather spend my days with..." He pulled the black velvet box from his coat, popping it open. "Oh, Harry!" You gasped, hands to your heart. "To say I love you, is an understatement. I want to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much you mean to me. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" Your hands were shaking, a tear slipped down your cheek as you whispered, "yes. Harry, of course!" He placed the ring on your finger, sweeping you into his arms, and kissed you with more passion than he ever had before.