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One Direction preference

Dedicated to
ZouisINmybed
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Louis: You were at your friend's 21st birthday party. You were supposed to be having fun, but there were a million people crammed into her tiny apartment, and you would really rather curl up on the couch and watch TV at home. Friends came by with How Are You's and It's Been So Long's, and though you really did want to catch up with them, you were not up to talking just then. You wanted to, but the only person you wanted to talk to was probably at a signing or singing or sleeping. You were pulled out into the middle of the grinding dance floor by a couple of your college friends, but weren't really in the mood to dance. You tried to decline politely, faking a smile, but just as you were about to try to shout over the noise, a pair of firm hands grasped your waist. Gasping, you turned to demand who he thought he was, but you just ended up staring into a pair of grinning and brilliant blue eyes. "MISS ME?!" he yelled over the thumping music. You threw your arms around him, kissing him hard in response.

Zayn: You had had a really rough day at work. You'd messed up so much, you were surprised you weren't fired. It was just that you were so damn distracted with Zayn gone. You wondered where he was, what he was doing, who he was meeting, if he was thinking about you every night and every day... He rarely left your mind. And he'd been gone for months now. You just missed him and his voice shouting throughout the flat. You stumbled up the steps to your apartment, rubbing your tired eyes and wanting nothing more than to read or sleep or something. You fumbled with the keys, only to notice the door was already unlocked. Now nervous and skeptical as to what you would find inside, you eased it open. "Babe! You're home!" came Zayn's rough accent. You looked around, confused. There he sat, on the floor, eating Mexican food, watching TV. "I saved some for you!" he cried, holding out a burrito. You could only laugh at him, too astonished he was here, too relieved to see his cheekily grinning face, too completely and uselessly happy to even speak. Then, finally, you recovered your voice. "You've got some explaining to do," you said, sauntering over to where he sat and cuddling up in his lap.

Harry: "Fetch!" you shouted excitedly, throwing the already slobbery ball to the puppy you and Harry had adopted a few months before. He ran with purpose, his ears flapping, tripping over his feet. You missed Harry, but at least this time when he left to go on tour, you weren't alone in that big, heavily furnished apartment. You shivered against the late autumn air, watching the little Labrador struggle back to you, weighed down with the tennis ball. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. "Hey babe," Harry said the moment you picked up. "Hey... isn't it like 2 in the morning where you're at?" you asked skeptically. He just laughed. "FETCH!" you shouted, launching the ball as far as you could. "Oh God, he's so cute..." you told Harry as your puppy waddled back to you, ears flung back in the wind. But your puppy skipped right past you. "I know," Harry said as you turned around to see Harry scoop up your little dog in his arms. "Harry!" you said, shocked. He wasn't supposed to be back for weeks. He held out his hand. "Let's go home, you two look wiped out and freezing." You couldn't help but smile at your crazy, stupid boyfriend.

Liam: You were trying to focus on the book you were reading. The movie came out in January, and everyone was talking about it. But you just couldn't concentrate. You were so distracted by wonderful thoughts of Liam and the first things you would do when he got home. Go to the zoo, go to the aquarium, take stupid pictures, play a board game with no rules at all, makeout, makeout some more, go see this damn movie, go ice skating, do nothing, spend time with each other. You gave up on the book, throwing it across the room. "Hey that's not very nice! I heard that's a lovely book," said a voice from the doorway. Not daring to believe it, you whipped around. There he stood, looking like a bloody angel. "Liam!" you shrieked, hurling yourself at him, your lips making a direct route to his and kissing him. Kissed him to make up for all the time he'd spent on tours. You pulled yourself closer, his arms around your waist. He was grinning, laughing, kissing you back. Finally, you leaned away. "If I'd've known the reaction I would get, I would come home early more often," he said, quickly pressing
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