One Direction preference

He reads your child a story at bedtime...

Harry: "And then the princess ran back to the castle," he continues, looking up at her excited gaze as he turns the page. "Then what?" she prods, excitedly eyeing the book as she sits on his lap. "And then," he smiles, closing the book. "The tickle monster attacked!" He laughs, reaching over and tickling her, sending her into a fit of giggles. "Daddy! Finish my book!" she orders through laughter, grabbing the book and tapping him on the arm. "Right, I will," he smiles, kissing her forehead and returning to the pages.

Niall: His eyes light up as his father turns each page, the vivid pictures piecing the story together with the words. "The robot only wanted a friend," Niall reads, pausing the story to ruffle his son's hair. Your son nods and eagerly turns the page, his chubby and small fingers struggling to separate them. "but no one accepted the robot because he was different," Niall continues, watching his son's tiny face become a frown. "What's wrong, bud?" Your son shrugs and crosses his arms. "I would be the robobot's friend," he says softly, looking up at his father's identical blue eyes. "You're a good kid, you know that?" Niall beams proudly, kissing his forehead. "Don't worry, the book isn't over yet."

Zayn: He watches as she pulls the same old book from the shelf that she always did, her tastes far more advanced than other five year old's her age. Then again, she was much more different than the others--her father was Zayn Malik and her mother was his lovely bride. "This book again?" he shakes his head but smiles and she climbs onto his lap and opens to page one. Dare to Dream--One Direction's first autobiography. "I love when you're in the story, and Uncle Harry and Niall and Louis and Liam, too," she smiles, urging him to read. "I can't believe you still haven't gotten sick of this book, I read it to you all the time," he shrugs, starting to read anyway and smiling as she even begins to recite some of the words from memory.

Liam: "Dad, when I grow up do you know what I want to be?" your daughter says suddenly, looking up at her father's eyes with a smile. Liam stops reading and shuts the book of princesses with a shrug. "What do you want to be, sweetie?" She scrunches up her face and urges him to guess. "A princess?" he offers, nodding at the tiara-wearing girl on the cover. "No, daddy! Princess isn't a job," she scoffs, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. He laughs and shakes his head. "I don't know, what?" She grabs the book and lifts it over her head with a bright grin, "I want to write storybooks like these ones," she begins, hugging the book in her tiny arms. "And I want to be pretty like mommy one day." Liam frowns a little and wraps her in his arms. "That's a great job, you'll be good at writing stories," he promises, kissing her forehead. "But you already are beautiful, just like mommy, sweetheart."

Louis: "And they lived happily ever after," he finishes softly, shutting the silver bound storybook and smiling at his son who'd fallen asleep on his lap before the book even ended. He quietly sets the book back on the shelf and gathers his small son in his arms, tucking him into bed and fixing the blankets. "G'night, bud," he says softly, kissing his son on the forehead and turning to leave and shut out the lights. "Daddy..." your son mumbles sleepily. "You didn't finish story..." Louis laughs softly and shuts out the lights, heading towards the door. "They lived happily ever after," he promises. "They always do."