Midnight Dancing
Harry:
His smirk can still be seen in the dim lighting of the room as he snakes his arm around your waist, bringing your body closer to his.
"Harry," you giggle quietly into the darkness, "I can't dance."
He frowns for a moment, looking down at you. He thinks that you're kidding, but then realizes that you're not.
"I'll teach you." He whispers back, the smirk back on his lips as he speaks the words.
He guides you slowly around the room, his forehead pressed against yours. He raises his arm every so often for you to twirl around, and so you do, slowly. He then brings your body back into his arms, almost as if he couldn't live with the absence of your warm embrace, and kisses you softly on the lips.
Liam:
Despite the late hour, somebody was playing a saxophone in the apartment below you - a song that you couldn't remember the name of. Your neighbour messes up every so often, but it sounds better that way. It makes it feel more real, happier almost, - as if the numbing pain you felt in your chest could disappear like smoke.
Your head rests against his chest as he holds you close to his taller frame. You feel safe in his arms, happier. He moves slowly, in a motion that couldn't be described as dancing, though would seem strange to be classified as anything but.
And in that moment, as you listen to his heart beat steadily, you realize how much you really do love him.
Zayn:
The two of you dance crazily around the apartment you share, grinning like fools. The music blares from the speakers, causing the walls of the room to shake. The two of you had already received noise complaints, but neither of you cared anymore.
You had both had a bit too much alcohol and were too drunk to care.
The two of you continued to dance and laugh and kiss late into the night, until at one point, you both passed out on the couch during re-runs of old television shows that they don't play anymore, at which point the neighbours finally caught a break from your drunken madness.
Louis:
His hand is warm against the skin of your lower waist as the two of you glide around the room. The moonlight gleams through the window, spilling onto the floor and your bare skin. You hadn't thought he was serious when he had asked you to dance with him at three in the morning, but you soon found out that he was not joking when he pulled you out of bed and began to dance around. The music plays softly from the radio in the corner of the room. It wasn't the kind of song that you were meant to dance to in this way, and you felt ridiculous to be dancing like this to such music, but Louis was persistent and could be rather persuasive when he wanted to be.
Niall:
The water reflects the colours of the stars, sparkling upon the dark lake. His car is idling on the side of the road, the radio playing a song that you don't know the words to. You stand facing him on the wet grass, laughing as he sweeps a low bow.
"Milady, may I have this dance?" he jokes, holding his hand out to you.
You snort, rolling your eyes at his stupidity, but take his hand anyway.