Harry: "Tell me," he mused, shimmying his shoulders a bit so he was splayed out entirely across the grass, hands rested with his palms up. "What's your biggest fear?" You squinted at the sky, keeping your gaze trained on the stars beginning to illuminate the night despite your dire want to look in his direction. "That's a bit deep for fifth date status, isn't it?" Harry was quick to shake his head, sucking his lower lip into his mouth as he compromised, "This is just baby stuff. Technically this is third date material. You should be grateful I waited longer. For your honor and such." Rolling your eyes, you let out a heavy sigh before speaking again. "Well," you managed to get out before you cleared your throat. Shrugging your shoulders, your eyes watched another plane glide through the sky. "I guess my biggest fear is disappointment. For my parents, because maybe I won't end up with some career or mound of money that would give them bragging rights over all their friends and the rest of the family. For whoever it is I end up marrying, because maybe my cheesy jokes or inability to bake cookies right - premixed or not - or need to take hour long showers will grow too tiresome for them. And for me, because maybe I won't get to do all of the things I've wanted before I die." You laughed lightly, hoping to ease the tension as you breathed out, "Why does such an emotion exist anyway? Disappointment. Who ever thought that was a good idea? Stupid." Without a word, Harry inched his hand towards your until his palm hovered over your own, carefully lacing his fingers through yours before giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.
Liam: Clutching his fingers tighter around your own, Liam pulled your hand until it rested on his lap. His eyes were already squinting, like he was preparing to screw them shut the second the introduction music started seeping through the speakers. "I don't know why I let you talk me into this," he stated in a hushed tone, pressing his lips just behind your ear so you wouldn't miss a word. "You know I don't do well with these kind of things and, just. Why couldn't we watch, like, Monster's University or something? I heard that was supposed to be a good movie. Surpassed many expectations." Rolling your eyes, you used your free hand to pat at his forearm. "Don't worry, Li. The bad man won't get you." He huffed at that, releasing his hand from your own so he could cross his arms childishly over his chest. "Ha," he sarcastically played along, sinking further into the red cushions of the chair. "You're so funny. I'm just cautious - like you should be." A shush came from somewhere behind you two, causing Liam's eyes to widen a bit before he wiggled further into the chair. Repositioning yourself so you sat cross-legged, you nestled your right elbow against the armrest. "They're just movies, Li," you deadpanned. "Half the time they aren't even real! Do you think someone could really kill you through your dreams like Freddy Krueger? Or keep coming back from the dead without a scratch on him like Jason?" Liam kept his eyes on the screen, murmuring a simple, "You never know." You decided against responding when the remaining lights of the theater dimmed, an eerie background music spiraling from the speakers as the title - Evil Dead - displayed across the screen. Liam snatched your hand back into his, pressing a couple of kisses to your knuckles, before the words faded out.
Louis: "Do you ever feel like you're not taking everything for what it's worth?" He mumbled, thumbing idly at the hem of your shirt as he pushed his face further into the curve of your shoulder. "What do you mean?" Louis huffed, curling his arms around your waist and tying his fingers before resting them on your right hip. "Time is weird, you know? Sometimes days seem so slow - like when I'm away from you. It's the worst because I swear every day feels like it goes on forever, let alone the months. But then other days are so quick, like I feel like I only woke up ten minutes ago and it's already six in the evening." Louis furrowed his eyebrows, his mouth blowing out a puff of hot air before he carried on. "I guess my biggest fear has just always been that I take stuff for granted. Like the little things, even. And I don't know, sometimes I feel like I'm doing that. Like I'm too busy wondering how the girls are doing or if my mom's working too hard or how you're holding up to really, I guess, relish in all of it? Not that I don't like worrying about you all, I love it and it's just who I am. But I don't know. I feel like one day it's all going to be gone and then I'm just gonna be, like. I don't know. A little lost, I guess." Brushing the hair from his face, you continued running your fingers across his head as you spoke. "You buy the girls everything they could ever want - Phoebe still calls me up sometimes to thank me for that Barbie house she thinks I got her, thanks to you. And your mom and I are so proud of you, we get that there are some scarifies that need to be made. And yet you still spoil us. And the fans, don't get me started on how much you do for them every chance you get." Pressing a kiss to his forehead, you mumbled, "You've got nothing to be afraid of, Lou. You're more than grateful for everything you have. Always. S'what I love most about you."
Niall: "No," you announced for the sixth time, crossing your arms over your chest just to show him how defiant you were being. No amount of pouting or whining or bribing would make you change your mind. "But why not?" He asked for the forth time, stomping his feet into the ground so little tufts of dirt aired out. "You know I would never make you do anything that could possibly cause you any harm. This is going to be fun, I swear! Don't be such a fun-sucker." You rolled your eyes, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you muttered, "Very mature, Niall. Really." Rather than replying with words, Niall took your hands in his, making sure to rub consoling circles into your knuckles with his thumbs before he casually began swinging your hands between you two. "What're you so afraid of anyway? The rollercoaster stopping while we're upside down? Getting your face ripped off because your hair gets stuck on the track? Having someone vomit on you? The cart getting derailed? What?" Your eyes widened with each suggestion, your throat tightening a bit and your palms starting to feel a little clammy. "I promise none of it's going to happen," he murmured, nodding his head. "Although I think there was something about some woman at some park in the newspaper last week. But that wasn't this one, so. You're okay." Again, you shook your head at him before nuzzling into the crook of his neck. "You're a horrid pep-talker, Niall," you mumbled against his skin before involuntarily shuddering as a faint crow of screaming zoomed above you two along with the rollercoaster.
Zayn: "Is it the tattoos? Are they too much? I'd get them removed, I'll make an appointment for as soon as I can. Or is it the paparazzi? I can tell them to leave. The fans? I'll tell them to leave too. Do you not feel safe around me? Because I can get, like, five other security guards if you want 'em." Zayn shoved his hands into his leather jacket's pockets before letting them fall back to his sides, only to shove them in his pant pockets a couple seconds later. "Just tell me why you can't be with me and I'll fix it, I swear." You shook your head, curling your fingers around your left elbow and holding that arm against your side like it was your lifeline. "It's not you, Zayn, I swear it's not." He groaned, dragging his hands down his face. It was beginning to take all of his energy not to blow up. But losing his patience would mean losing you and he could not have that. "Just tell me what it is then. It's okay. I'm not going to hate you or anything. Is it the boys? I can tell them to fuck off, they're really—." You chuckled at that, shaking your head again. Zayn dropped his hands to his sides, this time in a more desperate manner. "I'm just," you began, lifting one of your shoulders in a half shrug before letting it fall back down. "I'm scared, Zayn," you forced out. And then the snowball began rolling. "I don't do relationships. Like, I've never been good with people and I don't know what to do when you're upset or how to fix things when we're fighting or how not to get jealous because everyone's throwing themselves at you. And I'm scared that you're gonna find someone else, someone better and someone nicer and prettier and someone who can make you happier than I ever could. And I'd never blame you for that, but I don't want to get hurt. I'm scared of getting hurt."
