One Direction Preferences<3

Secrets

Secrets

Harry:  "Tell me a secret," you said to Harry one Friday night. He was sprawled across your bed, his hands stacked behind his head, his eyes trained to the ceiling. "I can juggle," he said grinning at you. You plopped down beside him, your elbow supporting your head as you stared down at him. "No, silly," you said poking him in his side. "I know that. Tell me something no one knows, something good." Harry turned his head, bringing those brilliant green eyes to yours. He was silent for a moment, working his lower lip back and forth between his teeth as he watched you. He had a secret all right but he didn’t know if you were ready to hear it yet. How long had you been friends now? Four, five years? It seemed to blur, not that Harry was complaining. You were the best friend he’d ever had, apart from the boys of course. He laughed when you started humming impatiently, your eyes sparkling at him as you smirked. "How hard can it be?" You asked collapsing beside him, your own eyes cast to the ceiling. You felt Harry move beside you, his body sighing into the mattress. "I have a secret," he said slowly, raising himself on his forearms. He looked over his shoulder at you where you impatiently waiting. In a moment of bravery even new to himself, he rolled on top of you supporting his weight on his elbows. Your eyes widened in shock as your bodies came into full contact. Harry licked his lips nervously and trailed his fingers down your cheek. Your skin was softer than he’d ever imagined. "My secret," he said huskily bringing his lips closer to yours, "Is that I think about you every day. All the time. Every minute of every hour, of everyday." You sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening. "Harry," you whispered, stunned. Your heart was slamming in your chest as Harry softly pressed his lips to yours, sealing both your fates. "I can’t stop, I don’t want to stop.”

Niall: Niall was losing. How many matches of thumb war had he lost so far? He quite honestly had lost count. He was so damn distracted by the way you bit your lip in concentration to pay any attention to the game. “I win again!” You squealed again shifting on the mattress. Niall scrubbed a hand over his face in agony. What the hell was happening? “One more time,” you begged, eyes laughing. “And if I win you have to tell me a secret.” Niall’s eyebrows rose at this. A secret, huh? He only had one secret he was carrying around and there was no way in hell he was telling you that one. “Fine,” he grumbled. He’d just make something up. He felt bad lying, but there was no way he was telling you his ultimate secret. He slid his hand into yours, trying to ignore the shudder than ran down his back. “Ready, go!” Your thumbs wrestled around together and suddenly Niall was playing for his life. He couldn’t lose again, couldn’t risk it. But damn your fingers were small, and damn, you were fast. Before he knew it, his thumb was pinned down. He brought his blue eyes to yours where you were grinning triumphantly at him. “Spill!” You crowed, tickling his side. “I don’t have any secrets, you’re my best friend, you know everything,” he said sliding off the bed to fiddle with the TV. His fingers were shaking. Damnit. “Bull,” you called from your spot on the bed. “Everyone has secrets!” He sighed. You were never easily deterred, what would stop you now? “I want to kiss you,” he whispered under his breath. “What? What?” You said in disbelief. Did you hear him right? Did he just say what you thought he said? He turned to face you, never taking his eyes off yours he said it again: “I want to kiss you.” His voice was loud now, proud of his declaration. “I can’t stop thinking about what your lips taste l like.” You felt your face heat. You had hoped you heard right. “So do it then, find out,” you said quietly. In two quick strides he was in front of you, cradling your cheeks in his palms like you were the most precious thing on earth.  Reverently and oh so softly, he finally pressed his lips to yours. It was everything he’d dreamt it would be and so much more. 

Zayn: "Can we play twenty questions?" You were so bored. Zayn didn’t want to go out and do anything, he wanted to spend his night painting. Not that you minded, you liked watching him work. You were fascinated by his talent, the way he brought a canvas to life. You envied that skill, wishing you could do it yourself. There was something about him when he painted though, you felt his paintings rather than just saw them. They were intimate and detailed, he even had a picture or two of you about. ”Twenty questions? Like, you pick an object and I have to guess?” He raised a dark brow at you in question. “No, like, questions about each other?” He shook his head wondering where you got all your crazy ideas from.  ”Alright, fine.” He wondered what questions you could ask, you knew everything about each other. You were neighbors, for god sake. You had no secrets from each other. “Is there anything you’ve ever been afraid to tell me?” He faltered in his brush strokes, stunned by such a huge question so early. “Sorry?” He asked, buying time. Sure, he had things he didn’t tell you. Like his hard times on tour. Or that you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Things like that. “You heard me. Have you ever not told me anything? Any secrets?” He kept painting, his eyes burning holes int the canvas. “Nope, I’m an open book. You know all.” He heard you sigh and caught the disappointed look on your face. You were hoping for something and Zayn’s heart beat a little bit faster in his chest. What were you hoping for? Him? A confession? He put the paint brush down and wiped the paint off his hands on his torn up jeans. His heart was pounding, but what he had said was a lie. He was holding in a secret. Seeing you on his bed like that evoked all kinds of feelings in him, but it was too soon for that yet. He thought for a moment as he studied you, trying to get his words in order. This was a big moment for him, he rarely ever put himself out there. Sucking in a deep breath and mustering up his courage, he finally found his voice. “If,” he hedged, slowly walking towards you, “If I had a secret at all, it would be this.” He stopped in front of you, using one of his paint coated fingers to tilt your chin up. “It would be that I have traveled all over this world, seen things, met incredible people, gone to the most beautiful places but,” he lowered himself to your level, his finger lazily circling your mouth. “I have never, never seen anything quite as beautiful as you.”

Liam: "Okay, what is it? What’s wrong?" You asked Liam, your hands fisting on your hips. He looked up from his phone, his chocolate eyes wide. "What do you mean?" he asked warily. You stomped into the living room, uninvited and unannounced. You and Liam had an open door policy, you’d been friends for so long that his house had become your home and visa versa. You couldn’t even remember the last time you knocked on his front door. "You’ve been so strange lately." He pocketed his phone, seeing the hurt lingering in yours eyes for the first time. "Just stressed with the tour coming up." It was his excuse for everything and it wasn’t cutting it anymore, he knew that. "I just feel like you’re keeping some huge secret from me," you shrugged. Damnit, you always did know him too well. He had thought he was playing it so cool but he should have known you would have him figured out in less than four seconds. You always did. "No, no secret," he smiled reassuringly and patted your hand. Unconvinced, you let it go. You only had a few more days with him before he left and you wanted to make the most of them. He stared off into space, his jaw working back and forth. "No," he said suddenly, standing to his feet. "I do have a secret." You leaned back into the couch, mouth falling open at his outburst. "I want to be with you. There? You happy? You drive me crazy, walking around here in those tight jeans looking at me like that. I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s tearing me apart I have to leave you to go on tour. There. Happy now?" He was panting by the end of his rant, chest heaving with his breath and his cheeks were flushed. You twisted your fingers in your lap. Whatever you were expecting it wasn’t that. Slowly, you unfolded yourself from the couch and walked towards him. With no hesitation whatsoever, you pressed your mouth to his. "I’ll come with you on tour. You can’t leave me here again." Liam crushed you to his chest, his lips moving happily over your face. Finally, finally.

Louis: "I can speak three languages," you boasted proudly. Louis gagged and rolled his eyes. "That was the worst secret I’ve ever heard!" he complained laughing. "Do another," he demanded, stuffing a handful of popcorn in his mouth. You thought for a moment, you didn’t have any secrets from Louis. He had you figured out within the first five minutes of meeting you. Mystery was impossible for you, you wore all your emotions on your face. "I can’t think of one, you go," you brushed him away with a flick of your wrist. He fell silent, watching you pop a piece of popcorn into your mouth. Louis only had one secret, one that he’d been caring around for what seemed like forever. "No secrets here," he said breezily, giving you a tight lipped smile. "Horse shit. You always make that face when you lie," you said suspiciously. He pulled a face, sticking his tongue out. "What face?" He watched you reenact, grinning broadly. Damn, you were cute. It was almost annoying how cute you were.You weren’t supposed to be, you were supposed to be best friends. He shook his head. “God impression,” he acknowledged with a nod of his head. You mock bowed at him, grinning impishly. “Out with it then,” you demanded, throwing a piece of popcorn at it. He caught it deftly in his mouth and swallowed. “Do you really what to know? What if it’s bad? What if you wish you’d never asked?” he fell back onto your bed, his arm thrown over his eyes. “You’re scaring me. Now you need to tell me.” He felt you lie down beside him, the side of your hand pressed against the side of his. Gulping, his let out a shaky breath. “I like you,” he made the move, wrapping his pinky finger around yours. “I think I’ve liked you from the first day I met you and it’s only gotten stronger.” He fell silent, waiting for you to speak. When he felt your pinky curl around his, he smiled. “Finally,” you whispered before lacing your fingers with his. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say that for a long time.” He brought his stunned blue eyes to yours, finding them smiling back at him. With a fluid roll of his hips, he leaned over you pressing his mouth to yours.