one direction preferences

YOU FIND OUT YOU'RE ADOPTED AND HE COMFORTS YOU (PART TWO)

(Age 17) Harry:

“Come on, Y/N!” Harry called, pounding the door with his fist, “Open up, I need to talk to you, love!” 
You didn’t respond to your older brother. 
Brother. 
He wasn’t your brother. 
It felt weird to say that, tell yourself that he wasn’t your brother. He obviously loved you as if he were your own brother, otherwise he wouldn’t have stood outside of your room, pounding on the door and begging for you to open up, for the past half hour. 
No, you couldn’t stay mad at him… 
You pulled your hair, squeezing your eyes shut. This was harder than you had anticipated, ignoring Harry as he begged for you to open the door, listening to the worry in his voice as he yells through the thick wood. You couldn’t stay mad at him, and you knew it. 
“Y/N!” Harry begged, “Please! Just open the door!” 
You stood up from your place on the bed, walking over to the door, before unlocking it and opening it to find a teary-eyed Harry before you. 
He didn’t say a thing, before rushing to you and enveloping you in a big, brotherly, bear-hug. 
And you knew, in that minute, that this was your home now, and this was your family.

 .

(Age 13) Liam:

He was trying, and failing, to cheer you up. From making bad jokes to pulling funny faces, he had tried everything he could think of to cheer you up. 
“You know, if you didn’t want me to be so upset when I found out, you should have just told me earlier.” You sighed, the other boys now long-gone – kicked out of the house by your brother. 
“I know, but Mum didn’t–” 
“I don’t care what Mum wanted!” you shouted, cutting off your brother’s excuses. He doesn’t reply, and you take a deep breath to calm yourself, before continuing in a quieter and softer tone. 
“I just don’t see how it’s fair that even your idiot friends knew about it, and I didn’t…” 
He doesn’t respond, but instead wraps his arms around you and hugs you. He doesn’t say anything, because he knows that you’re right. 
Someone should have told you; he should have told you. 
He should have protected you, like a big brother should.

 .

(Age 16) Zayn:

“There you are!” His voice echoed throughout the emptiness, breaking the thick silence. 
You didn’t look up from the patch of grass you were pulling up; you already knew it was Zayn. 
“You better get back home, Mum is freaking out.” He says, though he doesn’t sound annoyed, more… worried. 
“She’s going to yell at me.” You murmur under your breath, but he somehow manages to catch the words leave your lips. 
He sighs, sitting beside you on the green turf of the park you had escaped to. 
“And rightly so - you can’t just run out of the house at eleven o’clock, at night, and expect her not to worry… Especially when you don’t even have your phone on you!” he tells you, “You have to admit, that wasn’t exactly the smartest move.” 
You don’t respond, and instead continue to pull up the blades of grass. 
“We were just so worried about you.” He sighs, wrapping his arms around you. He rests his chin on the top of your head, holding your smaller frame close to his chest. The scent of cigarettes clings to him, his leather jacket scrunching, making you feel safer in his arms, almost as if you were at home. 
And it was then, that you realised that this was home; at least, it was now.

 .

(Age 15) Louis:

He sighs, running a hand through his tousled hair. He looks up from the broken vase for a moment, turning his attention to you. 
“How do you know about that?” he asks, “About how you’re adopted, I mean.” 
You shrugged, “I heard you and Mum talking the other night.” 
He sighs once again, before looking back down at the broken vase. 
“Tell you what; you go to your room, and I’ll tell Mum that I broke it, okay?” he says it like a question, like he’s looking for an affirmation, but you know that you really don’t have a choice at the moment – he isn’t going to let you have a choice. 
He is completely serious, he isn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer. 
But that didn’t mean that you didn’t give ‘no’ for an answer. 
“This is my fault, Louis, not yours.” You say, before grabbing a broom and beginning to sweep up the broken shards of glass. 
He grabs the broom from your hands, forcefully, but not so that he hurts you, and begins to sweep up the mess himself. 
“This is dangerous, you could get cut.” He tells you, not looking up from the broken glass he was cleaning up. 
“I don’t see why you care; I’m not even your sister.” You sigh, crossing your arms.  
“I am your brother.” He tells you, not a doubt in his mind. He says it like it’s a fact – one that you should know. 
And, you did know that. 
He was your brother, even if he wasn’t your biological brother; he still cared for you like a brother would.

 .

(Age 14) Niall:

Your parents had left, having told you the news, deciding that you needed some time and space to think. 
Niall obviously hadn’t agreed, because here he was, sitting quietly next to you, watching some sports game on the television – football, you thought it was; you had never been very sporty. The men on the television kicked the ball, straight into the goal. A quiet cheer left the lips of the audience on the television, but the room was silent – the television muted. 
“I want to meet them.” You say, quietly, breaking the thick silence. 
Niall looked at you for a moment, unsure how to respond to your request. He didn’t want to disappoint you, but he knew that the likelihood of being able to find your birthparents was slim to none. 
“Y/N, they might not want to meet you, you have to understand that.” He said seriously, turning to you, the grin on his face now gone. 
You nodded, “I know, but I want to meet them – even if they don’t want to meet me, I’ll still want to.” 
Niall was silent for a moment, his breathing slow as he thought, “I guess I could ask a couple of favours, make a couple of calls.” He tells you, “But, you need to know that we are your family, – even if we’re not your birth family –, and you need to know that we love you as if we were.”