“I know, I’m late! I’m sorry! Don’t be cross!” Shouting from the moment he walked into your shared flat, before the door even closed behind him and his well-worn boots, Harry began to frantically apologize. You heard the familiar sound of his shoes being kicked off against the wall without caution before you heard your mop headed before walking throughout the place. “I really did try,” Sounding as out of breath as he looked, Harry leaned against the open bedroom door and looked over you with exhaustion in his eyes and a cheeky crooked smile on his face. “The Picadilly line was down, of all lines to be down, but I got the wine for tonight!” Behind his back, he produced a bottle of Merlot and wagged it back and forth. He looked so proud, remembering that you had mentioned earlier you needed to bring a bottle to your friend’s at-home engagement party. Harry was particularly proud since he wasn’t of age yet and still managed to get his hand on a pricey bottle of Merlot.
Slowly, you looked up from your side of the bed and smiled coyly at your boyfriend, one of your favorite people on Earth, your boyfriend. With both your toes just hovering over the edge of your freshly made bed, you wiggled them to dry the one foot that had been freshly painted, a shade of purple called Foot Loose by Essie.
“You’re not late.” Informing him slyly, you said. Harry was always running late, it was one of his habits that you couldn’t stand. He had no sense of time management and was always pushing things to the very last minute. So, you may have told him to be home a half hour before he needed to be, just to stay on schedule. “We don’t need to be at Lucy’s til six.” Smiling, you dipped your wand in the bottle of nail polish that rested on the night stand and went to paint another coat.
“So I’m early, huh?” Harry moved over to the bed, moving carefully onto it with one knee and putting the bottle of wine down on the dark night stand by his side before giving you a kiss on the side of your face, wiping fallen hairs away first. “You’re a trickster, little miss.” He growled at you, playfully, before lying down and resting. He wasn’t used to being early or on schedule even and he felt like this was a good excuse to lounge around lazily.
“No, no, no, no.” You shook your head, concentrating on your toes but still trying to keep your plan of not being the last people to show up at your friend’s party in motion. “Get changed, Harry. I really want to be there on time.”
Harry was fixated on the motions of your hands as they flicked over your toe nails with steady rhythm. He quite liked the color you picked to wear tonight, thinking he had seen it before. Slowly, he tried to recall if it had been during when you visited him while he was on the South American leg of his tour, dressed in a denim shirt dress and walking along the beach with Eleanor, killing time. The color had been on your fingers as you poked a fallen hibiscus flower into your hair, just behind one ear. Your painted nails had later dug accidentally into his skin as he was sitting with his legs shoulder length apart in your private hotel Jacuzzi, you mounted on top of him and holding his shoulders as you delicately bounced up and down in the hot water, trying to keep composure. Harry didn’t mind though, he was too pleased to cross ‘hot tub sex’ off of his list. It was the color you wore just the week before, reaching up on the grocery store shelves to reach the cereal you both ate too much of while he pushed the cart behind you.
“Do you need help?” Happy to do anything, but what he was supposed to do, Harry offered.
“You want to paint my nails?” Over your shoulder, you raised an eyebrow at Harry as he shook his hair from his face like George of the Jungle might.
“Maybe it’s my true calling.” Harry shrugged back. “All this time I’ve been singing and recording, but maybe I was born to be a nail technician and, here, all along, I’ve been squandering my true talent.”
You rolled your eyes out of reflex before chuckling at Harry. For all the ways the media portrayed Harry as a brainless British womanizer, they were missing opportunities to share his comedic talents with the world.
“I’m pretty sure you’re in the right field, but just in case, yes you can.” Not wanting to ruin the job you had just finished on your toes, you turned on the bed to face Harry with much caution. When you went to reach for the small glass bottle, it was gone. Harry already had it in his hands and was eagerly waiting to perform his cosmetic techniques. You had him the brush and rested one hand on your bare knee, dressed in your shorts and a baggy top, for him to paint. “Go slow.” You warned, not sure if Harry even knew the first thing to painting nails.
“I know what I’m doing, babe.” Harry was as close to your knees as he could be without being on top of them, but he slowly looked up with his chin poking your leg and assured you with a stern tone of voice before grinning. He kissed your leg where his chin had been and then stretched upwards by his shoulders and stole a quick peck from your lips before sliding his favorite color over your one thumb with a quick flick. “Oh, look at my precision!” He called out, just to make you laugh.
Waking up from a power nap in the very back of the bus, Louis eyes fluttered before fully opening to the room he was in. The drawn curtains and white wallpaper were unsurprising to him as was the turned on television playing highlights of the tennis championships mounted on the wall or even the empty beer bottles on the small table by the bed. It was the blurry vision of violet right in front of him that caught him off guard. You were bent over the edge of the bed, right by his covered feet, and sliding a pair of underwear up your legs.
“You’re dressed up.” He announced, his voice hoarse from his rest.
Quickly, you looked behind you and spotted Louis’s eyes on you, looking up and down your backside and sizing you up.
“Sorry.” You whispered as if he was still asleep. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” You really had been trying to be as quiet as possible. You imagined touring was tedious sometimes and you watched day in and day out how hard Louis was working around the clock. He (and the rest of the boys) deserved all the sleep they could get, every minute of it.
“You didn’t.” He shook his head and began to pull himself out from the covers that you had put over him, sitting up and resting on his elbows. Louis checked the time as he yawned, content that he had managed to squeeze in a few hours. That was unheard of most days while they were touring the United States. “You look really nice.” He mentioned, swallowing around the sour taste in his mouth. It always came about when he slept, even if it was just an accidental five minute snooze on the couch. “Are you going out?” Louis didn’t remember you mentioning any plans that night or knowing someone in the next city that you were going to get together with. He had been accused of not always being the most adequate listener though.
“Thanks.” Still speaking, quietly you smiled and stood up from the bed, running your hands down your front and back to adjust your purple garment and remove any creases that had formed from sitting. “No. I just don’t have an excuse to wear it and I love this dress.” Watching Louis as he got up out of bed, you shared.
“Weren’t you wearing it on our first date?” Rubbing sand from his eyes with one hand, Louis asked as he moved closer to you. He opened up both his hands and took you in by the waist, looking you over with a smile that suggested that he was rather proud. Both of you and the fact that you were a significant part of his life.
“Second.” You pointed out, blushing. “But I am really impressed you remembered at all.” You moved in to kiss him, pecking his lips at first and then trying to massage them open as his hands gripped the light purple viscose fabric that circled your hips.
“Babe, I have morning breath.” He whispered, pulling away for a moment.
“I don’t care.” Scrunching your face up at him, you shrugged. “You kiss me first thing in the morning every day practically!” With a laugh, you told him.
Louis gave in. If you didn’t mind, he didn’t mind and he kissed you with a magnitude of force that suggested he was completely reenergized by his power nap. His fingers curled around your dress as he pulled you closer until he laid himself down on the bed and brought you down, gently, with him. He remembered now, the second date, your body looking as if the dress had been custom made for it as you walked across the High Street of Doncaster, the road was bare but you still looked both ways. Louis had his eyes on you though, a vision in pastel purple. He had been more nervous for the second date than the first. He knew enough of you by then to know that he liked you and wanted you to be interested in him return. Anything could have happened over your quiet Italian meal on the first date, it didn’t matter, but there was more pressure on the second. It was the one that really counted. Louis remembered thinking that you weren’t going to go easy on him in that dress, you had to make it harder by looking picture perfect.
“I love this dress on you.” He murmured, moving your hair from his face. Your skin was soft under the skirt of the dress as he slid his hands up your bare legs, hidden by the pliable fabric. “I love you.” He told you, kissing your jawline and then moving back to your lips. He didn’t want to take the dress off of you though he knew how good it would look on the floor while your skin was held protectively in his hands, but he wanted you to stay in it, looking beautiful over him.
You had been warned. It was something that ultimately came as part of the package with being Liam. It was naïve of you to have been so confident to think that you could handle it all without a hitch, too, but you had told him you could. You had told your friends and family that it wouldn’t be an issue. It was though. Some weeks more than others, but the hate was always nonstop. You could avoid it, and you did, but sometimes temptation crept through your bones without reason while sometimes it sought you out and forced itself in front of your face. Liam always started off strong about it. He made it known to his large fan base that he was not impressed and wanted it to stop, then he moved to frustrated, being more frank about his opinion on the whole ordeal, until he conclusively had to give into the fact that he was powerless. He couldn’t control what people did or said. Their emotions didn’t require his consent or approval. All he could do was try to be there for you as you were for him when he was on the receiving end of someone’s harsh and generally uneducated opinion.
Tonight, you were both taking time off though. You were finished exams and had the summer at your disposal; Liam was given the weekend off in order to blow off some steam from his constantly busy touring schedule. Sitting in the backseat of Andy’s car, Liam’s hand in yours between you both, you studied your cell phone screen in your free hand until Liam confiscated it, tucking it neatly into the pocket of his leather coat.
“Don’t read that stuff. It’ll drive you crazy.” He had seen out of the corner of his eye that your best friend was texting you about a blog that was writing fictional, but terrible things about you. It was a strange thing, the relationship you had with the bullying sent your way. It wound you up, broke you down, but it was such a routine part of your life that it felt strange to be away from it sometimes. “It’s the first time we’ve gone out in a month. So, none of that okay?” His eyes nearly pleaded with you before you nodded in agreement, large smile spreading like butter over your face and met his own smile for a kiss. Liam was right. Tonight was a night to celebrate. Exams were done, you had Liam for the night, your friends were all coming out, and nothing was going to bring you down. Especially a blog.
As soon as you arrived at Andy and Liam’s friend’s house, you were greeted with a large hug by two girls, mutual friends of the boys, and they led you into their flat’s spacious kitchen where the island was covered in an array of plastic cups, liquors, mixers, and different flavored cupcakes fresh from the oven.
“It is so nice to finally meet you!” The taller of the two girls squealed, her legs like breadsticks, ready to snap and dip into a little pot of marinara sauce at any moment. She flipped her long hair around to the other side of her neck, long in length and blond in color. “Liam tells me all these good things about you and then never brings you by! If it wasn’t for Perez Hilton, I would have doubted you were real.” She laughed, pouring herself a concoction of vodka and orange juice.
“Hey! No gossip tonight.” In the living room, Liam didn’t miss a beat. He was sitting on the couch, Andy wandering over to sit by his side and hand him a cold beer. He really did want you to stay in positive spirits tonight and just have fun.
“Anyway, are your friends meeting us at the club or are they coming here?” The blond asked, reaching over the kitchen island to hand you a red plastic cup. You weren’t much of a drinker, but you took it anyway and let your eyes scan indecisively over the selection at your disposal.
“They’re going to meet us there. A couple of them work late.” You explained, your fingers poking through the bottles as you licked your lips.
“Oh my god!” The blond squealed and waved her hands around. It completely caught you off guard, your eyes widening as if she was trying to warn the room of a fire or something. “Let Libby make you a drink. She came up with this weird mix, it’s so good!”
“It’s pretty damn good.” The girl next to her, dressed in a dress that just barely covered her bajingo, who you supposed was Libby. They had greeted you so quickly and with such enthusiasm that the introductions got lost in translation. Libby snatched your cup from your hand and went right to mixing you a cocktail like it was her job to do so. You felt Liam’s arms snake around you from behind, tightly pulling you in as he rested his open beer on the counter beside your hand.
“Are you two corrupting [Y/N]?” Andy asked, walking around the island, sipping his own drink, and throwing an arm over the blond lazily.
“We’re just having fun.” She said with a simple shrug before winking over at you. “We have to show her that Liam actually has cool friends since she has only met the likes of you.”
You chuckled along with Liam as they bantered in front of you, playing like an old married couple back and forth. It was sweet, really, and you felt really welcomed by his group of friends. It meant a lot to you that the girls had been so nice. It was a pleasant surprise.
After dropping two ice cubes from the freezer into the cup, Libby handed it back to you and clanked her own against it’s rim.
“Bottoms up.” She winked and went straight to chugging hers.
You stared into the pool of purple that was full, near to the top of your cup and took a whiff of it. It didn’t require any leaning in whatsoever, it reeked of sorority vomit. You imagined that was probably what the drink was called.
“You don’t have to drink it, babe.” Privately, Liam cooed into your ear.
“I’m having fun.” You assured him, that being enough to prompt you to bring the cup to your mouth and take your first sip. You started slow, not sure what to expect, but even though it’s color wouldn’t suggest it, it was really very good. It tasted just like Gatorade and acai (and some very spicy spiced rum). You opened your mouth wider and took in a larger amount, gulping it down with a delighted grin.
“Drinking games?” Libby suggested, already making herself a new drink, pouring purple liquid back into her cup.
“Hey, you guys are trying to get my girlfriend drunk!” Liam accused, half-smiling and half-scowling in the cutest fashion. You could see his expression in the microwave behind Andy. Liam’s grip on you grew tighter somehow as he snuck a kiss onto your cheek and caused your shoulders to lift up tightly.
“No, I’m having fun!” Laughing, you protested and took in more of the purple liquid before offering it to Liam over your shoulder.
“I’m glad.” It made Liam feel good to know that you were enjoying yourself inside his world since oftentimes, it was impossible to do so.
“Admit it.” Leaning back on the red blanket, you let the sun wash over you and tone your flesh a shade darker. Sunglasses over your eyes, hair falling down your backside, you smiled up at the sky and relaxed. This day felt like it was years in the making, but it was worth it. All the stress of organizing yours and Zayn’s time together while he was roaming the planet and touring his latest album was beginning to erode as you tanned in the open park. While you had already noticed people gossiping around you, trying to figure out if Zayn was Zayn or not, no one had approached you yet just as you had prayed they wouldn’t. Generally, you didn’t mind it. It was part of his job and you were happy he was admired and adored, but every now and again, you wanted some alone time where you two could be the normal couple you felt you were.
“I’m not going to admit it.” Zayn laughed, popping another raspberry in his mouth from the plastic carton that sat between the two of you. He was lying on his side, watching you soak in the sun and enjoy yourself. He might have thought the idea of a picnic was incredibly cheesy, something you see in a poorly written romantic comedy, but he was happy to see you in your element.
“So you’re not having a good time?” Turning your face away from the sunlight, you looked right at Zayn with unimpressed eyes, certain he could see the stare through the lens of your glasses.
“Oh, I’m having a great time.” Zayn smiled, swallowing a raspberry after one bite into its juiciness, and sliding even closer to you to kiss your neck subtly. “But a picnic is still very corny.” He laughed, looking up at you and popping a raspberry between your glossy lips.
“You say corny, I say cute.” You shrugged and laid down flat on your back, moving the raspberry around in your mouth before biting into it and feeling a spray of sharp flavor squirt out. “Tomate-toe, to-mat-toe.” You shrugged after swallowing. “Blueberry me.”
As told, Zayn reached over the raspberry carton for the blueberry one. You had brought all his favorites and he really couldn’t complain about that. He took a few into his hand and dropped one right into your mouth, earning himself a ‘thank you’ and wink from you.
“Why are they called blueberries?” He asked, curiously studying a chubby berry as he rubbed it between his thumb and index finger. “They’re purple.”
Pushing your sunglasses up on top of your head, you blinked at your boyfriend a few times, thinking he was absolutely nuts.
“They are blue. That is why they are called blueberries.” You informed him, shaking your head and taking two from his open palm and eating them.
“Well, they stain your lips purple.” He told you, sticking out his tongue playfully and putting the one he had been looking at into his mouth before leaning down and kissing you, tasting much different than usual. While smoking wasn’t your vice, you were now used to the taste of ash and nicotine. In fact, you kind of liked it since it reminded you of Zayn. Now when you two were apart, the scent of cigarette smoke wafting through the air made you smile and, sometimes, it even made you horny. However, you would take the taste of fresh fruit over Paul Mall’s any day. “You purple people eater.” Zayn teased, leaning back and continuing to eat. “Seriously, your lips are purple.” He laughed, pulling his phone from the pocket of his shorts and snapping a picture for himself. You slid your sunglasses back over your eyes and puckered your lips together tightly to pose, causing you both to giggle once he got the shot he wanted.
“Admit it.” You started again, closing your eyes this time as the sun gracefully baked you. “This is fun.”
“It is fun.” Zayn said for the umpteenth time, assuring you that he agreed. “But it’s still fucking corny.” He lied down next to you, hovering a blueberry over your face to make you open up your mouth in anticipation before cheekily eating it himself with a smug smirk.
Usually, Niall slept like a log. Once he was out, he was out and could sleep for longer than the average person. He thought of this as a gift really, and you had to admit, it was kind of impressive. It was not a super power that you shared though. You were far more restless than he was and found yourself waking up at the slightest noise or any sudden movements. It wasn’t an easy task to stay asleep when your boyfriend had a tendency to let out a deep snore out of nowhere in the middle of his own slumber. This was different though. You had a lot on your mind tonight and your racing thoughts showed no signs of letting up, so you took a thick blanket out of your closet and carried it to the couch of your living room. Quietly, you turned on the television and hoped that it wouldn’t disturb your room mate or Niall and went about flipping the channels until you found something decent to watch. There was never really anything good on at two in the morning. Insomnia had taught you that much over the years. You had already seen most of the infomercials that were playing this season, so you put on the movie channel and mindlessly stared at what was playing. Oprah was freaking out on Danny Glover on the screen, but it sounded sort of sweet since you had the volume at a dull whisper.
“Couldn’t sleep?” As you were starting to doze off, your head firmly resting on the arm of your couch, Niall came up behind the couch in nothing, but his sweatpants. He picked your curled up feet up with his hands and slid underneath them, letting them rest on your lap before forcing room for himself to lie down beside you.
“I never sleep the nights before you take off.” In a mumble, you told him with your eyes shut, the blue glow of the television screen covering you just as your blanket was. Niall pouted sadly at what you shared and slid his hand over your hair soothingly.
“That can’t be very comfortable, babe.” He moved to make more room for you, coaxing you to bring your head down and rest it on a pillow or his chest instead. “You’re going to get a weird kink in your neck.” He whispered like the people on the television screen were as you laid your head down on his bare chest, your eyes opening for a moment and seeing Oprah’s face crying on the screen.
“I’m watching The Color Purple.” You told him, breathing in deeply through your nose.
“I see.” Niall’s eyes shifted to the screen, noting the characters on it, before closing his own eyes and continuing to let his hands roam down your hair that he was so fond of. “You should really try to sleep, babe, or you will be a zombie at the airport tomorrow.” He said, hoping that you would take his advice. Niall knew that him being on tour was specifically hard on you, the excitement of seeing one another again only to be devastated days later when you were saying goodbye. It wasn’t easy on him either, but he was determined to make things work. Both you and his job were very worth it to him and he wasn’t prepared to compromise either for the other.
“I know. Is it bad that I’m…”
“That you’re what?” He waited for you to finish, but he prompted you to continue just in case you had dozed off on his lap.
Fidgeting slowly, your hands adjusted the blanket over both you and Niall as you curled onto your side and up against him like a newborn kitten would its mother or anything warm and comforting. Niall had become something like a security blanket to you, cozy and safe.
“I kind of want you to miss your flight.” Finally, you admitted. “I want you to go but I want you to stay.” You really were torn and your head was starting to feel heavy from thinking about it so much and also from the exhaustion your body was beginning to feel. “It’s selfish, I know, but I love you.”
Niall had said it before. You had been together for two months when he was holding your hand on a walk through Belvedere Gardens in Mullingar, the sun just setting in the distance, and it was then that he told you that he loved you. You were both walking towards the stone fountains, almost empty as winter was on its way at the time, and Niall looked and sounded so confident as he told you. There was no shame in what he felt, but he was surprised when you only kissed him back passionately and with a smile that could have lit up the planet. He never egged you on to say it back though, even though much time had passed. His eyes opened now, his hands still going through your hair, and a smile crept onto his face. You had fallen asleep, he could feel it in the way you moved now against his still body. He was so happy though and he turned his face to see Danny Glover crying on the television screen. Niall absorbed the moment. Your exhausted body and small exhales, the white blanket draped over you both, the tired aching in his bones and that The Color Purple was playing when you finally told him that you loved him.
romaincrisis
kianamaiart
origamiaround
areudirty
prguitarman
theartofmadeline
