Harry - fiddling hands tangle in your hair as he pulls you down, onto the bed, by his side, nestled close. He haphazardly jumbles his lips down your arm, sighting kisses along your skin. “Please, don’t ever leave me,” he rests his chin on you, and exhales, swirl of cool air about you, “I mean it. I don’t… I don’t know what I’d do without you. Don’t leave,” he mumbles, lips as pink pillows. He takes your hands and entwines your fingers, shushing your back as he kisses your neck, needing your bare skin clung to his, lips on lips, hair drawn back in beads across the covers as he holds you, sniffling faintly before cuddling again, warm breath down into the crook of your ear.
Liam - he knocks on your door and waits for you to answer, pulling you close and inhaling your scent, hands placid at the small of your back before alighting, squeezing your middle to his, stomach to stomach, his lips by your ear, “I just missed you, okay? And I really wanted to see you, babe.” He lets go enough for you to lead him inside, hands soft and knuckles almost swollen, skin around them fleshy as you play your thumbs into it, kneading his anxiety down, until you can lay him on the couch, and settle with him. “I’m here whenever you need me, babe,” you murmur, brushing his cheeks. “Good,” he swallows, “because I always need you, always.”
Louis - static over the phone makes you blink a few times, before his voice erupts quietly again, and he sounds like a child, fragile and weak as he talks to you. “I just… need you right now, babe,” he whispers, “the other lads, they don’t get it. I mean, I’m okay. I just need you, is all.” You smile and tell him it’s okay, his hands fidgeting down his face as he rubs, the skin a little lost because he hasn’t shaved yet and it’s four in the morning to your lunchtime. His breath picks up a little to hold down sobs he’s afraid of letting you hear. You exhale and talk to him, tell him to talk to you, “I’m here for you, Lou, just talk to me. I love you.”
Zayn - he sidles over to you, hands in a clasp, fingers knotting and sliding with the sweat of a night out, and palms encased, the heat about them reddening your lines. He squeezes, and you squeeze back, his eyes glistening on yours when you turn to smile at him. “Can we go soon? I just wanna get out of here,” his voice lulls by your ear, as you hear it. You nod once, and he smiles, corners of his mouth instruments playing their way out of emotion he feels for you. Another party, the music loud and boisterous, his hand around yours, squeezing every time he needs your presence, to know you’re there beside him.
Niall - scowling down, frustrated, his hands fumble after you and catch you in the dark, his lips by your cheek, cool pillows that press and plant into your skin, making you shiver. You let him tug you closer and whisper in your ear, “I love you so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you, love.” Grazing cheek to cheek, the mess of his hair hangs from his hairline is hewn spikes and jostles you as you try to peer up into his eyes. He’s conscious of how close you are, but he wants to be closer, needing lips on lips and hands on the small of your back, yours around his neck, tickling the skin you can get to until he smiles to one side.