The Right Direction (Zayn Malik)

Disclaimer: This story is not being written to offend anyone who smokes, or has smoked before. It is for entertainment purposes only. Please do not read if you are easily offended, or are sensitive to this subject. Thank you.

My eyes dipped into the array of people around me. The grip I had on my leopard print suitcase tightened as I advanced deeper into the crowd. From as young as toddlers, to as old as elderly, people of all ages surrounded me. I tried to take in each of their characteristics, looking for one that resembled my own. It was no use, though. Everyone was constantly moving from to-and-fro. Traffic isn't easy to deal with when you're in an airport.

There was no use in trying to look for them. I would never find them being fenced in a tight circle. "Excuse me," I politely mumbled, trying to push past people. "Pardon me." As soon as I had found my way out, I stepped onto one of the navy, cushioned seats. As I towered over the mass of people, I realized things looked a lot different from up here. It was definitely a lot easier searching who I was looking for than having to rely on my 5'5 frame.

"Looking for someone?" I heard a familiar voice murmur into my ear.

I didn't trust my hearing. Certainly not after sitting beside a rebellious six year old who wouldn't stop crying out at the top of their lungs, and having a mother who was just as loud as their child yell in disapproval for six hours. As I deliberately turned around, my eyes widened as I spotted one of the five people I was looking for. My brother, Liam Payne.

"MIMI!" I squealed, leaning forward to wrap my arms around his neck. His hands found their way around my waist, picking me up and spinning me around for a split second before gently putting me down. I knew there was much more spinning to come, so I better take advantage of as much time on the floor as I can.

Liam gave me a cheeky smile before pressing his index finger against my lips. "Careful, Scar. You know I don't like being called that out loud. Plus, I didn't think I'd have to deal with that nickname for much longer. I thought it'd be one of the things you left behind in England." I couldn't help but play around with his hair and beam at his embarrassment. Even though he was older than me by five minutes (which he won't ever live down), I was usually the one who teased and picked his buttons.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it."  I promptly apologized. "You'll always be my Mimi." And it was true. I'd first given him the nickname when we were only four years old, and I thought Liam was hard to pronounce. Out of the two of us, Liam was always an accelerated learner. While he rushed to get things down, I was always more patient and took my time to do things the right way.

Without warning, Liam's finger was pulled away from my lips, and into Niall's mouth, where he pretended to eat it. I soon found myself being engulfed into a large pair of arms, belonging to Harry. Soon enough, Louis, Niall and Liam all had theirs arms around me. I was no longer surrounded by strangers, but around people who loved and cared for me. I only squeezed onto them tighter. Being isolated from your family and friends for so long has this kind of effect on you.

"We've missed you, Scarlet." Harry uttered, placing a kiss on my forehead.

"Don't ever leave us again!" Louis whimpered, using his striped shirt to wipe away fake tears.

"We're so happy you're--" Niall cut himself off shortly. "Is there food in that bag?"

I chuckled as I slowly made my way out of their embrace. I held up my creased Starbucks bag toward him, which was sufficient with a few treats I decided to purchase for the long plane ride. I had a few left over and decided to give them to Niall. It's not like I had a choice, anyway, because the boy would tear it out of my hands if I dared to protest. "Jouir." I grinned, which meant 'enjoy' in French.