115. He Accidentally Scares You

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Harry - you woke up in the middle of the night, blinking in the light of the alarm clock on your bedside table. You swallowed enough sleep to wake up properly, rubbing your eyes until the flashing green lights made sense. "Haz?" You groaned, rolling over to his side of the bed. It was empty. You bunched up sections of the covers, searching the darkness for him. You heard a thump by the other side of the room, and craned your neck. A lean body was hunched near the open bedroom door. "Harry?" You whispered uneasily, "babe, is that you?" Panic flooded you instantly when there was no reply. You backed up against the headboard, struggling against years of convincing yourself you’d never be the victim of a robbery. You scrunched the covers and eased them back, remembering that baseball bat Harry had stored under the bed last summer. You slipped yourself from the bed, watching the figure move as you did. You held your breath, bending and feeling blindly for the bat. When you raised yourself up, the bedroom light suddenly flickered to life and you took aim.  "Whoa, babe!" Harry’s eyes widened in surprise, and he raised his arms, "what the hell are you doing?" "I… I thought you were a… robber," you gasped, exasperated.  "Aw, babe," Harry chuckled, taking the bat from you gingerly. He gripped it one hand and brushed light strands of hair from your face with the other. He kissed your forehead, "I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just looking for a t-shirt." He kissed your forehead again, skin warm and led you back to bed. You burrowed beneath the covers as a unit, legs sliding against one another. He held you tightly in his arms, "you know if a robber ever broke in, I’d kick his ass." "I know," you sighed, your heart beat slowing.  "Unless you get to him first," Harry snickered before turning out the light, earning himself an elbow in the ribs. 

Liam - you flopped down on the couch in your sweats, landing gently against Liam’s chest, his arms open to encase you warmly. “We’re finally living together,” he sighed, still rimmed with sweat from moving boxes all afternoon. He rested his chin on the crown of your head.  "I know," you breathed, smiling contentedly. He hugged you close to him, peddling fingertips around your stomach. With every warm breath, he bothered the loose strands of hair atop your head. You snuggled in closer to him, and let your eyes close. Liam shuffled his body behind yours, arms tightening until you could feel the pressure on your flesh. "Do you think maybe we should start having kids?" He sniffed, making your eyes snap open.  "What?!" You choked on the word. You’d just moved in together, barely been dating a year. "A baby? Are you serious?" You flipped around, hair whipping to face him, "Liam, my… my finances are a mess. I don’t even have a full-time job. I’m still trying to figure out what I want to even do with my life. We’re so young. You… you’re on tour all the time and you’ve got priorities with the band, and…" Liam reached forwards with eyes wide like buttons set in his sockets, cupping your face in his hands to soothe you. “Babe, babe,” he started panicking to rival how much you were, “I was kidding, I know we’re not ready, I was just… I don’t want to start having kids now, I…” "Oh," your lips formed the word. Reeling back, you counted breaths until your heart returned to normal. Liam watched you with caution, rubbing your shoulders gently. You swallowed when your breathing slowed to normal, realising how awkward you’d made things.  "Babe," he murmured finally, chancing a glance your way. He pecked your lips and you blushed, exhaling loudly and almost laughing at yourself.  "You’re so cute," he smiled, caressing your beet red cheek, "and I love you."

Louis - you wiped the tears that had made their way down your cheeks, another uncontrollable sob breaking the silence wrought by a quiet scene in the movie you were watching. “No,” you sobbed at the screen, hopeless, “don’t leave her!” You were home alone, ruining yourself by watching sad, romantic movies that tricked you into spending all of your money on ice cream and Kleenex. You brought another tissue to your face, and blew your nose again. Your attention rapt, you didn’t notice the front door open and close, or your boyfriend kick off his shoes in the foyer. You balled up the used tissue and threw it to the pile you’d made on the floor, failing to notice Louis as he crept along the carpet in the living room, bare feet padding along lithely.  "You want a cup of tea?" He murmured suddenly, making you jump. The bowl of popcorn you were nursing flew back when you jerked your knee, sending burst kernels in all directions.  "Holy shit," you gasped, "when did you get home?" "About three minutes ago, babe," Louis laughed, bending to pick up the empty bowl of popcorn that had landed in front of the couch. "You scared the crap out of me," you wiped your eyes, watching him as he sat down gingerly next to you.  "I’m sorry," he murmured, "did I make you cry as well?" He smirked and licked the tip of his thumb, raising it to your eyes and swiping the smudged mascara there until it was gone. You rolled your eyes and batted his hand away, "it’s a sad movie, okay?" You pointed to the screen, until his eyes followed your hand and rested. He raised his arm and you snuggled into his side.  "Sorry for scaring you," he leant his head on top of yours when you burrowed yourself into his neck.  "It’s okay," you murmured in reply, returning your attention the movie again, tears falling freely in no time. 

Zayn - you blew out a low breath shakily, and squatted down on the toilet seat, feeling like an idiot when you realised that you were, quite literally, peeing on a stick. You could hear Zayn outside the door, pacing a hole into the bathroom floor. You bit your lip during the process.  "How you doing, babe?" Zayn asked nervously. "Splendid," you called back sarcastically. You finished, flushed the toilet and peeled the door open nervously. Zayn watched you with hands fisted together as you rested the stick on the lip of the sink, and washed your hands slowly. You turned to him as you were drying them on a hand towel.  "Now we wait?" You looked at him expectantly.  "Now we wait," he pressed his lips together firmly. When you slid the hand towel back on the rack, he stepped towards you. You fell into his arms, and gave yourself every reason in the world not to cry. He noticed your tension, arms slipping past your shoulders to rest on the small of your back.  "It’ll be okay," he murmured to you gently, pressing his lips to your forehead, "whatever happens. It’ll be okay." He moved you to the bathtub, and you sat down on the edge, hands clasped firmly between his as you waited. When ten minutes had elapsed, you stood up nervously.  "I can’t look at you," you ducked your head, laughing shakily, "you do it, babe. I can’t… I can’t do it."  "Okay," he moved to the sink, and picked up the thin stick. You tried to assess something… anything in his eyes as he looked down, unmoving. You bit your lip, taking a hesitant step towards him when you could. "Well…" "Looks like we’re going to be parents," Zayn whispered slowly. "What?" You gasped, shock flooding your system until it was all you could feel. Your limbs went numb, "no, no, that can’t be. I… I, no, I can’t be pregnant…" you turned and paced the floor, running your hands through your hair in absolute worry.  "Babe, I was kidding," Zayn rushed after you, dropping the pregnancy test, "I was kidding… I’m sorry, I have a terrible sense of humour, you’re… you’re not pregnant. We’re okay." "You…" you came to terms with what he said, and found his eyes, "you jerk." You slapped his arm and scowled away from him, "you almost gave me a heart attack, you asshole!" "I’m sorry," he laughed, trying to rearrange his features into something more placid, "hey, I’m sorry, come here." He took you in his arms, and brushed lightly down your back with his fingertips. "Just so you know, though," he murmured into your skin, "if it had’ve been positive, I would’ve been more than okay with it, because I love you."

Niall - ”Babe,” Niall called over to you from the other side of the aisle, “do we need more cereal or are we good?” "We’re good," you smiled at him. He processed your words with a curious smirk, tipping two boxes of cereal into the trolley a second later anyway. "Just in case we run out," he crept up behind you and pecked your ear, holding your waist for a moment before letting go. He took the trolley and spun it down the aisle, making you laugh when he narrowly missed a towering display of boxed chocolates for Valentines Day. You rolled your eyes at him before turning away, leaning up on your toes to reach a can of coconut milk on the top most shelf. Your palm slid around it, taking it down in your hand. You moved to put it in the trolley, but when you looked up, Niall was gone.  "Niall?" You called out quickly, pacing the length of the aisle to look for him, "Niall, babe, come on." You spun around, panic not quiet settling in the pit of your stomach yet. You assumed he was just playing another stupid game, goofing around. You moved into the next aisle, and searched for him, but he wasn’t there. You did the same with the next aisle and the next.  "Shit," you muttered to yourself when you realised what was happening to you, the same thing that hadn’t happened since you were twelve years old. You spun in circles, the can of coconut milk still resting in your hand. You leapt from aisle to aisle, eyes scanning the scatterings of people for your favourite mop of blonde hair. "Shit, shit, shit," you panicked when you couldn’t find him anywhere. You reached for your phone in your front pocket, on the cusp of dialling his number when a pair of hands found your waist and tugged you back into a hard chest.  "Niall?" You spun around, and slammed into him, "shit, where the hell were you?" "Aw, did you think you lost me?" He pouted and laughed, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger and pecking your lips.  "Yes, don’t ever do that again," you scowled when the kiss was over. You dropped the can of coconut milk into the trolley and crossed your arms, stalking away from him in mock frustration.  "Will it make you feel better if I told you I was getting whipped cream in a can?" He raised his eyebrows when he raised the can from the depths of the trolley, shaking it suggestively in front of him.  "Maybe," you chewed on your bottom lip, rolling your eyes and turning away from him again, smirking when you knew he couldn’t see you. 

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