CREDIT TUMBLR
Louis: He's away, as usual. And the show's just ended but he's not giddy and exhausted in the best way as usual. As soon as he'd gotten off the stage, he'd called you like he always does, and the call went straight to voicemail. And he's worried; worried that you were moving on because he'd been away for so long, worried that you were out and about with someone better, too busy to even answer his call, or that you'd declined the call on purpose. And he's in his bunk while the other boys are fast asleep and his mind is running wild. Absolutely raging with all these recollections of things you two have been through, like that one time Lottie walked in on you two snogging, or when you walked right into him at the breakfast buffet a few months ago and spilled his orange juice all over his shirt. Like all the kisses and touches and words you'd shared and it's tearing him apart. And maybe he's overreacting, he hasn't thought of the time zone you're in, and you're probably sleeping, or in class, but he can't help but worry.
Harry: Sat in that fitted tux that he tried so hard to look good in, though he looked amazing in anything, and nervously chatting with his best man, he can't keep that idiotic smile off his face. Every time someone comes up to him, mumbling congratulations and wishing the two of you their best, his face only rips into an even wider grin at the thought. It took him nearly six years to drop to his knee and ask the question and right now, he feels like an idiot for waiting so long. But those six years had been the best of his life, and every memory is running through his mind as he waits for the ceremony to start. And he has to walk away from the crowd for a minute because he's so overwhelmed but all these thoughts. Of how you met, unceremoniously, through a mutual friend. Of that first kiss you shared and how your lips did, and still do, taste and feel like autumn, if you could even taste it. And of every date, every time those three words spilled from your lips, of every time you cuddled up subconsciously, of every fight and it's all worth it as he takes his place on the alter.
Niall: He watches in amusement as you stumble around your parents house, helping out party guests in that awful Christmas sweater he bought you as a joke, but insisted that you wear to this party. Your family had demanded that he come to your annual family holiday party, and he agreed without a second thought. His eyes had glistened with worry, eyebrows furrowing in concern when you told him to sit and relax, that you'd take care of all the party stuff. So now he sits and follows you around the room with his eyes, smiling fondly as you scurry around the little kids eating on the floor, mingling among the adults, catering to their every need. His mind wanders to the last Christmas you spent together, the last three that is. About the way your eyes lit up at the presents he'd gotten you, and brightened even further as you watched him open his gifts. The way you looked in his navy blue jumper with snow in your hair as you snapped pictures of the snow for instagram, the way you'd kissed him under the mistletoe, for what felts like hours. As you fell to the couch beside him, asking, "is everything okay?" when you saw his glazed over eyes and weary smile. "Yeah just thinking," he'll murmur, "I could ask you the same" And you'll smile softly, leaning into his touch as you respond with a gentle, "now I am"
Zayn: His mind was clouded with every single move you made, every word you said and he was broken, in every sense of the word. It was his fault you had left, but he couldn't help but feel angry and disheartened, whether with himself or you, he wasn't sure. And he was up for hours, reminiscing with tears in his eyes over every time he'd woken up to your sleeping body beside him. Every time you'd giggled and blushed over one of his cheesy murmured compliments. To that one time that you tripped over the leg of the coffee table and he'd caught you with strong, tattoo covered arms, and now it was a little inside joke that he could always sweep you off your feet. When he'd inked his skin with the first initial of your name, not thinking about the chances of you two splitting. The way you'd yelped slightly in gratitude upon seeing it, wrapping yourself in his embrace and pressing soft lips to his for the longest time. The first time you told him that you loved him, the first time he had his way with you, the first time for everything. And he's shaking and his fingers are hovering over the call button with your number already punched in because there's no way in hell he's going to let you, and all of those memories slip away without a second thought.
Liam: Laying in bed, phone pressed between his ear and the pillow, he hums every so often as he listens to your voice, rambling on about your day. And he's drifting, stuck between that asleep and awake phase where he can hear you, and process what you're saying but is struggling to form a response. So he sits and listens and remembers every little detail about the last few months. The way your voice flew through the room and straight to his ears when he first met you, the way you laugh always, always lit up his day. The way that your ears flushed red when he complimented you so you'd duck your head so your hair covered them. That one time that you borrowed his batman shirt while he was away and he came back to it smelling like you, and refused to wash it for days, much to your dismay. And he smiled wearily at the thought of you shouting in exasperation, "wash the damn shirt Liam James, why would you need that to smell me when I'm right here?" and then giggling about how dumb you must have sounded. The first time you saw him in concert from the front row, tears stinging your eyes from the experience, and the way your arms wrapped around his torso, lips ghosting over the warm, sweat clad skin over his neck as you mumbled about how amazing he was. And he grunted when he heard you calling out his name, "earth to Liam?" you teased and he'll chuckled sleepily, before mumbling a quick good night, and reminding you that he loved and missed you, like always.