Louis: Your first encounter with him was one in which he wrote you a very nasty letter telling you to stay out of his parking space. It was a few days later when he showed up on your doorstep, hanging his head in shame. “I’m sorry I was such a dick,” he muttered, his bright blue eyes hesitantly meeting yours. “I know you don’t know me, but I was having a really awful day, and I shouldn’t have been so rude to you. I know you aren’t from around here, and I shouldn’t have been such a jerk to you before we even spoke to each other.” You rolled your eyes. You didn’t care who he was or how bad his day was, his letter was very unnecessary and mean. “Your girlfriend make you come over here and apologize to me?” you said, cocking an eyebrow at him as you crossed your arms over your chest. “No, I don’t have a girlfriend… anymore…” he mumbled quietly. “I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry for being an asshole. I completely get it if you just want me off your property, but if you ever need anything I’ll try not to be a dick anymore. I’m Louis. Louis Tomlinson.” “I know who you are,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Well, I’ll just, uh…” he trailed off, starting to back off of your porch. You shot him a look. “Tomlinson, get in here and tell me why you found it necessary to say all those things.” His brow furrowed. “I was just having a bad day,” he repeated. You nodded once. “Yes, I know this. Tell me what made it so bad. I don’t bite, I promise,” you said, offering him a small smile.
Zayn: Even as a fan, he seemed different from what you had expected. He was very introverted, but he gave you small smiles when he would go to get the mail. He was obviously nice, even without your fangirl knowledge of him, so one day you invited him over. You had noticed him hanging a piece of butcher paper on his garage door and doing graffiti on it, and you were looking to get your friend a good birthday present. So you asked him to help you out. He hesitantly agreed, and you got better acquainted. You would bring him a constant supply of tea, and you were positive he had never uttered such a long string of words in his life as he rambled on, complimenting your skills. And then suddenly: “Here, you try it,” he said, nodding at the pinned up butcher paper that was half-decorated with graffiti. You blushed and shook your head. “No, I’ll mess it up. You do it.” “I’ll help you,” he persisted, taking the can and placing it in your hand. You started to hand it back to him, but his fingers entwined with yours and he nodded at you once. He guided your hand and let you hold down the button, helping you to make a scribbly looking heart with silver paint, right there in the bottom right hand corner. After he finished and it dried, he signed his name in the left curve of the top of the heart. He handed you a Sharpie and pointed at the right curve. “Sign it.” “I didn’t do anything, though,” you protested, blushing. “You made that heart, and you had the nerve to ask a complete stranger to help you with your friend’s birthday present. Now sign it and come back over to mine for a bite, yeah?”
Liam: He had been living in the house next to yours for three years, and you’d been friends for quite some time. He had been there through the heartaches and the booze and the blabbering of insecurities. And now, as you seemed to have just lost the only thing that still meant anything, he was the only one to comfort you. He hugged you to him, nuzzling gently into your hair. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). So sorry,” he murmured, holding you tightly. “It’s just… It’s just not fair,” you sniffled before bursting into another wave of sobs. “Shhh… Shhh, baby,” he whispered, holding you to his chest and weaving his fingers through your hair. That boy had been your best friend since childhood. You should have known it would never last when you told him how you felt about him, and now, six months later, he was just admitting to you that none of it had ever been real for him. Not only did he want to call it quits; he was pulling the plug on your friendship, too. And Liam didn’t know what to do. He hated seeing you so hurt, especially over a boy. “Shhh…” he repeated as you hiccupped into his chest. “It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. I know it hurts, but…” “Everything, Li. Everything’s g-gone,” you sobbed. “Everything.” “No, love, I’m here,” he whispered, kissing your hair. “Dobby’s here now.” He was trying to make you smile with the use of the random nickname you’d given him ages before, but you didn’t say anything, just sniffled quietly. “Babe?” he said gently, catching your eyes. You nodded once to show you were listening. “You’ve always got a place here with me, okay? Always.” He laid his head on top of yours and continued stroking your hair. “Always,” he repeated, whispering.
Niall: The new neighbors were quite noisy. It was a party every night, and normally you would be okay with the music blasting from across the street, but you had exams coming up and had a lot of studying to do. You weaved through the crowds of people, searching for that head of blonde hair. You’d only spotted your lovely neighbor once, and that was from behind. You were losing hope of every getting the volume turned down when you saw him, the blonde boy. You tapped his shoulder. “Excuse me, do you think you could—“ You staggered backward when you realized who you were face-to-face with. Niall. Niall freaking Horan was the reason you couldn’t study. And this time it had nothing to do with fanfiction. “Can I help you, beautiful?” the familiar boy asked, winking at you. “A drink, maybe?” “Um, no, I was just trying to… to… to study,” you said anxiously. He laughed loudly. “Well, this is a bloody good place for it, eh?” “No, I, uh… I live across the street, and I have exams in two days, and I was just wondering if you could…” “Could what?” he chuckled, taking a step toward you. You swallowed hard before whispering, “Turn down the music.” He smirked at your words and reached over to the stereo, flicking it one increment down the dial. “There you go,” he said, raising an eyebrow at you. “Niall—“ He raised an eyebrow at you. “You’re serious?” You nodded meekly, and he cut the music. “Alright, everybody, party’s over!” he shouted at the crowd. “Really?” you said, blushing. He nodded, shrugging as a playful smile crossed his lips. “That took some guts, coming over here. I like you already.” He stuck his hand out for a handshake. “Niall Horan, at your service. Now what’s your name, beautiful?”
Harry: “Shhh…” you giggled, helping him through your bedroom window. He was laughing because he had managed to get his leg caught at an awkward angle in the window sill, and you were trying to shush him, keep him quiet enough so as not to wake your parents. You had been away at uni for months now, but you were in on holiday to see your family. Harry had come in today, your third day home, and was now not-so-smoothly sneaking his way into your bedroom just like he had been doing for years. “You’re gonna get us caught,” you giggled as you finally freed him, pressing your finger to his lips to shush his laughter. “I’ve missed this,” he whispered, now resting comfortably with his bum on the window sill, legs hanging down the wall in front of you. “Me, too,” you sighed, burrowing into his chest and letting him wrap you up in his arms. He rubbed the small of your back gently, kissing your forehead as he thought over everything, all the times you’d been together. He didn’t want it to be like this, didn’t want you to just see each other once every six months. You didn’t either, and you could tell what he was thinking. “You should stay over at mine when I go back to uni. Just for a little while.” He hummed his agreement, nuzzling into your neck. “Just say the word and I’ll start packing.”
Authors Note: I've missed updating but tbh it takes some time & i have finals all this week BUT then its CHRISTMAS VACATION! My birthday is comming up im so excited (: Anyways thank you guys soooo much for 1.1k reads! Thats amazing! Wow i cant express how happy i am that you guys are giving my book a chance (: Love you guys!
-Amy
