Zayn: You gently placed your champagne glass onto the table as your boyfriend Cade fiddled with your fingers underneath the dinner table. With the dim lights of the restaurant, you were completely uncomfortable as the both of your families smiled in conversation. Suddenly, Cade rose from his seat and clinked his champagne glass with a spoon. "Excuse me," he beamed, "I have an announcement." The both of your families turned their attentions to him as your hands shook. "As you know," he declared, "my sweetheart and I have been dating for about three years, and thank God, you dumped the weasel before me." Everyone giggled in response, though you refused to join in the laughter. "Anyway," he continued, "tonight is about us. I brought both of our families here today to tell you, I love you, and with the blessing of your parents, would you marry me?" That was it, you thought. For someone he "loved," his speech was definitely a bit short-lived. Both families awaited your response in hope you would say yes, but you remained silent as you recollected your thoughts. When a familiar silhouette paused in front of you across the restaurant, you recognized him immediately. You raised your eyes only to meet his saddened eyes. "Zayn?" you breathed. As if on cue, you placed your napkin onto the table and dashed out of your seat. The families, in shock, did not stop you, but instead, comforted Cade as he stood motionlessly. "Please tell me you said no," he snarled, "please." The jealousy in his voice gnawed your aching heart. "I...I have a lot to think about," you whispered. Zayn turned his gaze away from you. The sight of you fucking hurt him. "Look," he explained, "in this point of your life, no one is going to stop you from being with me. This is about you, not your parents or Cade. Make a fucking decision already, because to be quite honest, I am tired of waiting on the woman of my dreams to tell me she still loves me when loving her hurts like fucking hell." Tears streamed your face as he shouted, and when he stopped, he cursed under his breath when he realized you were hurt. "Zayn," you sobbed onto his shoulder, "I still love you, and I never stopped."
Louis: You refused to move in with Louis. Despite your love for him, you were very young and needed your parents, too. Three years passed, and you were finally twenty-one, and despite the previous boyfriends after him, everyday, you still ached for Louis. Your hand carefully held your hair from the cake as you leaned in and blew your candles. "Twenty-one, huh?" a voice interrupted your wish. You pulled away from the cake and gazed upward only to find a pair of familiar blue eyes. Shit, you thought, here you were with your new boyfriend Dennis, yet still weakened in the knees with the sight of Louis. "Louis," you breathed, "wow, I never expected to see you." Dennis knew you and Louis used to date, but your parents forced you away from him. If anything, Dennis knew you were still in love with Louis, and had he not known, anyone could have known from the way you gazed into his eyes. "Dennis," you huffed, "could Louis and I have a word?" Dennis nodded approvingly, and you were grateful he understood completely. You and Louis walked together near a bench outside of the restaurant. The streetlights reflected against the pavement, which gave you little view of the new man Louis had become. "Why are you here?" you asked. He winced as he heard the harshness in your voice. "Your birthday," he explained, "I could never forget your birthday." You crossed your bare arms as the December breeze chilled you. "Really," you scoffed, "because as I do recall, you forgot the past two years." Louis tipped you by the chin and stared into those orbs he loved. "Are you going to blame this on me or your parents?" he asked. "Blaming you would be easier," you sighed, "but Louis, did you even fight for me? You let me go for three whole years, and you come back and think I will run into your arms and tell you I love you?" Louis crashed his lips into yours and begged for access to the tongue he longed for. Dammit, let me in, his thoughts begged in desperation. Finally, you parted your lips, and he found solace in your taste. He pulled away and pierced his gaze onto those lips he longed for. "I left you alone because I wanted to give you time," he explained, "you left me because you were too young to move in with me, but here you are, twenty-one years old, and the offer still stands." Your eyes traveled from his lips to his eyes. "L-Louis," you stammered, "my parents would be upset if I made this d-" "Would you stop thinking about your parents?" he snapped. "Don't fucking think about what your parents want," he shouted, "what do you want?" Silence fell upon the both of you as the memories soaked your mind. "You," you answered.
Liam: As you handed your ticket to a man in a black suit, you heard your name shouted from behind you. With a thick British accent, you knew exactly who called your name. You turned and saw Liam maneuvering through a crowd of passengers to find you. "Liam," you breathed, "what are you doing?" His heart heaved slow and deliberate breaths as he tried to explain. "I love you," he said, "and I know you love me, too, right?" He awaited a response. Last night, you wanted to tell him you loved him, but you lacked the courage to do so. How could you tell the boy you fell head over heels for you loved him the day before you would leave him? "Come on now, sweetheart," your father chimed in, "we do not have time for someone unimportant." "With all due respect, sir," Liam snapped, "this conversation is between me and your daughter." You laced your fingers through your hair. She is so sexy when she does that, Liam thought. He had to control every nerve cell in his body from touching you in front of your father. "Liam," you sighed, "I-I love you," you confessed, "but my parents forbid me from being with you, and I have to respect their decision." He clenched his fists and forced them by his sides as he burned his eyes with you. "Exactly," he shouted, "you have to, but do you?" You knew you did not. Whatever you and Liam had, you needed to remain a little sane. "No," you mumbled. "Sweetheart," your father shouted, "you either join your mother and I, or you stay with Liam, but realize he has a career, one which does not include you." Liam cupped your face and pressed his lips to yours. Your lips ached when pulled away. "I will put aside anything," he whispered, "even my career, if it means I get to be with you for the rest of my life." Your father nodded approvingly. "Take care of my daughter, Payne," your father grumbled, "but you screw up once, and I will personally fly here and find you." Liam smiled widely and wrapped his arms around your waist. "No worries, sir," he beamed, "I promise to take very good care of her."
Harry: Your mother tucked a loose curl behind your ear and beamed proudly. "I cannot believe my little girl is getting married," she squealed, "and with Preston. The both of you have been in love the day your father and I introduced you." Yeah, right, you thought, but instead, you half-smiled and studied your wedding dress in the mirror. You wore a simple long-sleeved wedding dress with very little detail. Harry would have hated the look. Dammit, quit thinking about Harry, you are about to get married, you reminded yourself. Your mother handed you a few pearls and smiled. "I have to handle the bridesmaids," she noted dutifully, "put those pearls on, and you will be ready to go, sweetheart." You nodded, and she turned on her heel to leave. As you wrapped the pearls around your neck, you struggled to find the clasp with your fingers shaking, until a pair of large hands brushed your neck and helped you. "Let me help," he mumbled, "please." You heard the desperation in his voice. "Harry," you breathed, "how did you-?" He buried his hands into his pockets and sighed heavily. "Word gets around quickly when you know a lot of people," he explained. A tear threatened to fall, but you would never let him see you cry. Silence fell as the both of you recollected those memories from five years ago. "Do you love him?" Harry asked. You shrugged your shoulders and let the tears fall, might as well, you thought. "I wish I knew," you sobbed, "Harry, why did you never answer me?" He sighed and raked his fingers through his brown curls. "Excuse me," he snapped, "but as I do recall, you moved on! You let your parents fill your mind and control your every move, and look where you are now: about to get married, and quite frankly, I am not even sure you love the lad!" You sniffed and burned your eyes with his. He came here...for you. Dammit, he loves you, you thought. "Harry," your mother snobbishly chimed, "this wedding is invitation-only, and I am sure my little girl made the decision to leave the boy you are for the man Preston is on her own." Harry coldly chuckled and returned his gaze to you. "Did you, now?" he asked. Your gaze shuffled from your mother to Harry and back to your mother. "No," you shook your head, "I love you, Harry, and I always have."
Niall: You tucked your exam into your shoulder bag and adjusted the strap as the December breeze gently blew your hair. Hell, did she get hotter, Niall thought as he admired you from a distance. Six months had passed, and he still loved everything about you. He loved how you lowered your head when the wind blew, he loved how you constantly readjusted your shoulder bag, and he loved how you never failed to gaze into the trees for the first spark of Christmas lights. You reached into your shoulder bag for your camera, but your exam slipped onto the floor. When you reached for the exam, another hand met yours and a pair of white tennis shoes planted in front of you. "Did you need this?" a familiar voice chimed. You looked up and met eyes with Niall. What the hell, you thought. "Niall," you breathed, "what are you doing here?" His lips relaxed into a smile as he handed you the paper in his hand. The boyish features from six months ago were replaced with a musky scent and a slight trace of stubble. "I was wondering," he smirked, "how would you feel if I moved here with you?" Ever since you moved to New Jersey for Princeton University, you believed Niall would never come back. You broke up with him for your own selfish reason. "Niall, I do not deserve you," you explained as you shook your head, "besides, my parents would never allow it." You turned to walk away, but he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you back. "I already asked your parents, princess," he explained with desperation in his voice, "and the only person left to say yes is you." Suddenly, you crashed your lips to his as your hands cupped the sides of his face, the stubble tickling your skin. You momentarily pulled away and gazed into his blue eyes. "Yes," you smiled into his lips, "yes, you idiot." He unraveled you from his grasp and turned to his car. "Good," he beamed, "my luggage is in the back, would you mind helping me?" You cocked and eyebrow and crossed your arms. "Niall," you growled, "and what if I said no?" He wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his hips as he pressed his lips to you again. God, he tastes as good as he did before, you thought. "Then I would kiss ya until you said yes," he chuckled.