One Direction preference

116. How He Tries To Makeup After A Fight

Harry - he found you balled up in bed, under the covers, in search of that comfy place where nothing and no one can hurt you. He didn’t say anything, as he shuffled beneath the sheets with you and held you from behind, pressing his chin to the crook between your neck and your shoulder, and shutting his eyes dully. 

"I’m sorry, love," he whispered to you finally, "I didn’t mean what I said before. I love you. I love you so much. I love every single part of you."

You didn’t reply. Blinking kept the tears from falling in unbroken lines down your face and into the pillow plush beneath your head.

"I know that we’ll fight sometimes," Harry swallowed as he continued, "but I promise to never, ever again make you feel like less than what you are. I promise to put us before everything and anything else in my life, and I promise to be there for you, to support you and never hurt you. I love you, beautiful." With that, he rested his head, burrowing himself into your back and the loose tendrils of your hair that fell. 

"I love you too," you murmured after what felt like an eternity, "Harry, I love you too."

Liam - you turned your head when you saw the dim headlights flash from the side of the road. The car they belonged to pulled up behind you, and the drivers side window rolled down a second later. 

"Please," Liam pleaded with you, "baby girl, please. Get back in the car. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have jumped to that conclusion. I love you."

"Liam, go away," you growled, turning your back to him. The allure of the car became all the more enticing when another breath of cold wind tapped you sharply and you shivered under the flimsy material of your sheer parka. 

"Babe, get in the car," Liam lowered his voice, "please, I’m begging you. This is stupid. You’ll catch a cold, love, I can’t handle knowing I’m gonna make you sick."

"No," you whined stubbornly. You started walking again, but Liam turned the wheel swiftly and followed you, poking his head out of the window to address you further. 

"Baby, I love you, please, please," he begged, "just get in the car and we can go home and talk about this, please?"

You stopped where you were. He’d accused you of cheating when he saw a few calls from an ex on your phone. You’d stormed out, and regretted it a second later. Now, pride was the only thing standing between you and hurrying back into the car. 

"Okay," you muttered finally, defeated, "but only because I’m freezing, not because I actually forgive you yet!"

Louis - he sent you a text from the other side of the living room. You were nursing a scowl on the far couch when your phone vibrated. You picked it up and read his text; are you still mad at me baby? Because Louis loves you and Louis is sorry xx :( 

"Real cute," you snapped at him, rolling your eyes when a glimmer of hope cracked his stoic expression. 

He sighed, and moved his gaze to the ceiling. He picked up his phone and sent another text moments later; Louis is very very sorry and Louis will never insult his baby’s cooking ever again. Louis is an idiot xx :) 

You stood up, forcing yourself not to smile even though Louis’ childish attempts to make you forgive him came close to being the cutest thing a guy had ever done for you in your whole entire life. You sat down next to him on the couch he was occupying, lifting his arms and wrapping them around you. “You’re right,” you snuggled in and he pecked your forehead, “Louis is an idiot. But I love him, and I forgive him.”

Zayn - you slapped the light switch to the bathroom, and slammed the door behind you, rolling your shoulders to keep yourself from punching the mirror or the dry wall out of pure frustration. Tears welled hot and angry in your eyes, and they fell as you started to undress, craving the scalding heat of a shower to take your mind off the fight you’d just had with Zayn. It was stupid and pointless, but a regular routine for Friday night nowadays. 

You tossed your jeans into the hamper by the corner, just as a folded note made its way under the bathroom door. "Zayn?" You snapped, rolling your eyes at it pointlessly. You scowled and picked it up, "if this is your lame attempt to make me forgive you, you can forget it, Zayn?"

"It’s not…" you heard a defeated mumble sound from the other side of the door, "it’s everything I’m too scared and stupid to say out loud. It’s every little reason why I love you, and every reason why I know that you’re the one girl for me, the only one I ever want to be with for the rest of my life."

"Damn," you muttered to yourself, already forgiving him in your head, anger dissolving into little shards of glass that fell to the floor soundlessly. 

Niall - he brought you a bouquet of roses, and showed up at your doorstep just shy of midnight. “Niall, no,” you tried slamming the door in his face. He intervened, and used one hand to keep you from shutting him out. 

"Don’t do this," he murmured to you urgently, "don’t do this, babe. I know you. You’ll run away from anything when it gets too serious. But I love you. And I’m not going to let you run away from this, I’m not going to let you run away from what we have."

"Niall…" you sighed, still cross with him from earlier. 

"It was a silly fight," he shook his head at you, "silly and stupid, but you can’t back out every time it gets tough, okay? That’s what a relationship is, there are fights and disagreements and every now and again, you want to punch the other person in the face but you love them all the same, and it’s worth it in the end."

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, unsure. “You really think so?” You murmured quietly. 

"I know so," Niall smiled, and handed you the roses. You took them and he took you, in his arms, where you belonged.