You’re Best Friends & Someone Says You Should Date

“Who’s Ian?” He asks, casually flicking through your phone, holding it just high enough that you can’t grab it from him. You roll your eyes, jumping for it, but he easily evades you.
“He’s just a guy.”
“Just a guy, huh? Judging by these texts, it’s more than that. You’re going to have to do better if you want this back…”
“Niallllll,” you whine playfully. “Give it baaaack.”
Louis, wanders in, surveying the situation with a practiced eye–he does have four younger sisters. “Niall, just give her the damn phone. You’re not her boyfriend or her brother–leave her relationships private. But, for the record, you two need to get together within the next two weeks, or else I lose £10 to Liam.”
“The hell, mate?” Niall demands. Louis shrugs.
“Didn’t you know? We have a bet on how long it’ll take for you two morons to get together.”
You both vehemently deny that it will ever happen, but four years later it’s Louis who has the last laugh, when he tells the story at your wedding.

“It’s been to long since we’ve done this, Lou,” you smile at him across your coffee. The corner of the cafe you two are sitting in is relatively secluded; so far no fans have spotted you.
“Louis?” You hear a familiar voice behind you. “Who is this–oh. Hi, Y/N. Y/N!”
“Congratulations, Harry. You know my best friends name.” Louis sasses. “Hang on,” Harry waves him off dismissively. “I have to text the boys and tell them I’ve won.”
“Won what?” You ask, half amused and half concerned by Harry’s reaction.
“Bet pool as to when you two finally get together. All the boys are in, Danielle, Perrie, Josh, etc. It’s an ongoing thing.”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down. This isn’t a date. This is two mates having coffee together.”
“Are you drunk?” You add. “Because two o'clock on a Wednesday is way too early to be drunk, Haz.” Harry rolls his eyes theatrically.
“Don’t look at me like I’ve sprouted five heads. It’s only a matter of time until you two finally give in to all the UST.”
“You’ve been watching The Bachelor too much,” you say dismissively, but two weeks later, Harry’s proved right (although Zayn’s the one who wins the bet).

“What’s up, Li? Why so down?” He’s sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. You playfully ruffle his hair as you settle in next to him, and he smiles weakly.
“I’ve just been thinking a lot about what Zayn said.” You frown, trying to remember what Zayn has said that would evoke this reaction.
“Oh, you mean about us making a good couple? Just ignore him.” You shrug. “We have a solid friendship, Li, that’s all.” His face falls a little more at your words. He stands up to go, but you pull him back down. “C'mon, Li, talk to me.”
“Are you friendzoning me?”
“Do you not want to be friendzoned?” You ask, confused. He shakes his head.
“Actually, I don’t. I’m sick of being in the friendzone, Y/N. I… We’ve had a long journey together, and somewhere along the way I fell in love with the most wonderful person in the world, my best friend. I actually would really like it if we gave this a proper go. As a couple.”
You blush. “I… I’d like that.”

You’re lying with your head in his lap, drifting in and out of consciousness. It’s probably two in the morning, and the boys are just finishing up their third movie of the night. Through half-shut eyes you see Eleanor and Danielle across the room, similarly situated on their respective boyfriends.
“Well,” Harry says quietly as the movie ends. “I think I’m going to put Y/N to bed.”
“Unfortunately, not in the way you want to,” Niall quips, setting off chuckles around the room, and even a catcall from Louis.
“Oh, shove off, you lot.” Harry grumbles, gently twirling a strand of your hair around his finger.
“Haz, why don’t you just ask her out already?” Zayn interjects.
“We’re just mates.” Harry insists, to more guffaws.
“Please,” Liam dismisses that with a wave of his hand. “You’re so hopelessly in love with her.”
“So what if I am?” Harry asks defensively.
“She’s hopelessly in love with you, too, in case you haven’t noticed.” Niall opines–you can hear the grin in his voice.
“No, she–”
Unable to stand it any more, your eyes flutter open, meeting his green ones. “Actually,” you say softly. “She is.”

“So, what’s going on with you two?” Liam asks, casually leaning against the kitchen counter. You almost spit out your drink in surprise once you realize what he means. Zayn has a similarly shocked expression on his face.
“What? We’re not… What gave you that idea?”
Liam gives you a knowing look. “C'mon. We all know you two… It’s just a matter of time.”
“Liam, what the hell are you doing?” Zayn demands, sounding much more upset than the situation calls for. You round on him suspiciously.
“What’s going on?”
“You two should date. You’re perfect for each other.” Liam shrugs. Zayn groans in frustration next to you.
“Get out, Li.”
“What’s your problem, Zayn?” You inquire, eyes narrowing.
“Shit.” He mumbles. “Um, about what Liam said, I’d… Sometime, I’d like to see where this goes. Outside of friendship.”
You stare at him for a long moment, and his face falls as he starts to retreat from the kitchen. Finally you remember how to speak, darting after him and gently tugging him into a hug.
“No, no, Zayn. I’d love that.”

The Boys Admit They Ship You Two In An Interview


“Right then, onto the next question.” The interviewer announces, glancing down at her iPad. “Oh, this is a good one. We’ll do this one individually. Let’s start with Niall. Who would be a good match for Niall, boys?”

“Oh, Y/N,” Louis grins, the only one of the boys who knows that you’re watching at home. “Y/N and Niall. I ship it.”

“Definitely Y/N,” Harry agrees, playfully nudging Niall’s shoulder. “You two are the cutest.”

“I completely agree,” Liam chimes in, ruffling Niall’s hair. “Y/N.”

Niall laughs nervously, blushing a bright red. “Me and Y/N, eh? Good to know…”


“Alright, so who’s single?” The interviewer asks, surveying the five boys squashed onto the couch in front of her. Harry, Niall and Louis’ hands go up almost simultaneously, and the interviewer laughs. “Right, lads, let’s play matchmaker. Who needs to get with who?”

“Oh, well, Louis and Y/N, no question.” Harry says automatically. “Niall, I—“

“Wait just a minute,” Louis cuts him off, cocking his head to the side in surprise . “Me and Y/N?

“Yeah, mate,”  Zayn intercedes. “We were just talking the other day about how perfect you two are for each other.”

“Really?” he asks, amused and suddenly curious if it’s true. Would you two be good together?

“Hell yeah,” Niall nods.

“You two, definitely,” Liam agrees.


“So, girl wise, who has the official 1D stamp of approval?” The interviewer wonders.

“Well, obviously all our girlfriends are lovely people,” Liam says thoughtfully “But in terms of the single pringles here, I think we all agree that Y/N has the official stamp of approval if she and Zayn want to get together.”

 “Oh, yes, we thoroughly approve of Y/N.” Niall grins, playfully shoving Zayn. “Take a hint, lad.”

“Really?” Zayn wonders, mind racing at the idea.

“Oh, God yes,” Louis says. “You two should have just given in and gotten together ages ago. It’ll be about damn time when it comes.”


“So, Harry, we’ve been seeing a lot of pictures of you out and about with a mystery girl lately. Care to share?”

“Sorry to disappoint, we’re just mates,” Harry says, half smiling.

“Really good mates,” Zayn mutters under his breath, delicately arching an eyebrow.

“Won’t be mates much later,” Louis says mischievously, clearly amused by Harry’s blush “It’s only a matter of time before they give into the unresolved sexual tension there.”

“Oh yeah,” Liam agrees emphatically.  “I reckon you two would be quite cute together.”


 “So boys, do you ever have fights over girls? Like, if two boys are attracted to the same girl, how’s that dealt with? A sing-off?” the interviewer jokes.

“You know, I don’t think it’s ever really come up,” Liam frowns in thought. “I think we all have different types, so it’s not an issue.”

“And we all know who Liam’s type is,” Harry chuckles.

“Oh, yeah, Y/N,” Niall agrees. “She’s exactly right for him.”

“We need to lock them in a closet or something, since they haven’t managed to get together on their own.” Louis suggests. “Can we do that, lads?”

Liam blushes, shaking his head at the other boy’s antics. “I hope Y/N isn’t watching right now.”

He Leaves For Tour


It’s early in the morning—the sun is only just rising in the sky. You’re perched on the end of the bed, watching as Niall haphazardly throws the last of his things into his suitcase.

“I don’t want you to go.” You whisper plaintively–so quietly that you don’t think he hears you. He does, though, and he’s at your , wrapping you in his arms. You snuggle into his embrace and he holds you tighter, treasuring the last few moments you have before he has to leave again.

“I know, princess,” he murmurs. “I don’t want to go, either. I hate leaving you. But I’ll be back in two weeks, yeah? I promise we’ll text and skype every day. You’ll barely know I’m gone.” He kisses you. “I love you and I like you.”

“I love you and I like you.” You return. He drops a gentle kiss on your lips, and then he’s gone.


You stand in the airport, waiting for the plane to board, ripping your boyfriend away from you. Liam has been home for two days, and already he has to leave again.

“I hate this.” You tell him. “You just came home and now you’re leaving again.” He sighs.

“I know. I do, too. But after the American leg we’re done for a bit. And you’ve got a uni break coming up, so I’ll fly you out for that. That’s only three weeks.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I’ll just miss you so much.”

“I’ll miss you, too, darling.” He says, dropping a kiss on your head just as the flight attendant announces that the plane is boring. “This isn’t goodbye. It’s see you soon.”


“I don’t want to go yet. I just got back.” Zayn frets angrily. You curl up next to him in an attempt to hide the tears slipping down your cheeks, only vaguely noting the constant snapping of pictures in your peripheral. The constant flashbulbs going off, the screaming of fans outside the airport… it is not exactly the ideal goodbye.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” He says tenderly, wiping your tears away.

“I just… I miss you already.” You start to laugh and cry at the same time, and halfway through it turns into a hiccup. “Is that corny?”

“No.” He says. “I miss you already, too. But we’ll text, call, skype, tweet… whatever we have to do to make it not so bad.”

“I love you.” You say. “Come back safe, OK?”

“Of course.” He promises. “I have to go now, babe. I’ll call you when I land, OK?”


The sound of a car horn outside your house disrupts the peace inside your house. You sigh, clutching Louis tighter to you, neither of you making a move to go downstairs. Once you get up and move Louis will have to get in the car and leave, and you’ll be left alone in this house, something that neither of you wants.

The car horn sounds again, and Louis stirs.

“Damn those bastards.” He says, half jokingly. You smile.

“Much as I hate to say it, you should go, or else you’ll miss your flight.”

“I know.” He says. There’s a pause and then he pulls you into a deep kiss. Somewhere in the back of your mind you hear the click of a camera, but you pay it no mind.

Finally you separate, Louis grinning cheekily at you as he flashes his phone screen at you, displaying his new background. You laugh, unable to help it at the mischievous glint in his eye.

“I love you, I miss you, I already can’t want to see you again,” He says, kissing you again. “Au revoir, sweetheart.”


“Goodbye, Harry,” you say, your eyes filling with tears. He shakes his head, ignoring the flashbulbs going crazy around him.

“No,” He says vehemently. “not like this. C’mon.” He grabs your hand and pulls you along after him, finally leading you into an airport bathroom.

“Management isn’t going to kill you for this at all.” You laugh through your tears. “I bet they’ll love pictures of us coming out of the girls room in the airport.” He shrugs.
“Screw them. If I have to leave you, I want a quiet moment to do it. I don’t want them documenting every second of it.” Right on cue his phone trills Paul’s ringtone, probably demanding to know where he is, and you both sigh.

“I love you.” You say.

“I love you more.” He responds gently, pulling you into a tender kiss. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

Change Your Ticket

Change Your Ticket

Watching you get dressed messes with my head, take that bag off your shoulder…

“Y/N? Where are you going?” Harry mutters, sleepily pulling himself into a half-seated position. You smile weakly at him.

“My flight leaves in about an hour and a half,” you explain, glancing around the room one last time to make sure you’re not forgetting anything. The bright California sun shines through the hotel window, making the whole room seem warm and cheery. It cheers you up a little, but not much. Leaving Harry is always so hard.

“I don’t like watching you leave,” he replies, more awake now. “Take that bag off your shoulder.”

“Or what?” You ask, making a playful face at him.

“Or this,” he grins, leaping up and crossing the room in a few steps to grab your bag from you. He expertly upends your suitcase, sending your clothes flying. “Now you have to stay with me.”

You say it’s hard to keep a secret… Girl, don’t leave me all alone in this hotel.

“We’re not public yet, Louis.” You remind him, sighing heavily as you pack your bag. It’s a miracle that you’d managed to fly to Frankfurt without getting caught: after all the work that was, it would be a shame to blow it now. That’s why your flight out of Frankfurt is scheduled for the ungodly hour of 7:30 am.

His lips twist down and you can see his thoughts running a mile a minute. “But Y/N,” he sighs plaintively. “The second show isn’t till tonight. I’ll be stuck in the hotel all day. Why do you have to leave so early?”

“You know how hard it is to keep a secret about any of you lads.” You reply softly, moving across the room to drop a kiss on his cheek. “This makes it easier.

“I don’t care. Please don’t leave me all alone in this hotel,” he pleads. “We can push your time back later, have you fly out after the show… No one will be looking for you on an 11 pm flight, either.” You pause for a moment, thinking it over. Not that it really needs much thought. You’d do anything for a few more hours here.

“OK. Change my ticket,” you say. The grin that spreads across his face at your words makes all the secrecy completely worth it.

These shades can hide us from the street, yeah. One weekend, I promise that I’ll never tell….

“C’mon,” Niall cajoles, “come get back in bed.” You try to fight the smile spreading across your lips at the sight of him, hair all mussed up and blinking the sleep from his eyes. He really is too adorable…

“My flight leaves soon,” you remind him. “I’m cutting it pretty close as it is.”
“Why leave today?” He questions. “We can stay in bed all day… stay another weekend!” He raises one eyebrow at you, and damn it’s hard to resist that.

“I think people will talk if we stay in bed all day,” you laugh, moving to sit on the bed next to him. He shakes his head with mock seriousness at you, gesturing to the white curtains that frame the hotel window.

“The shades will hide us from the street. No one will have to know. I promise I’ll never tell.” He grins, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to lay down beside him. “I’m going to change you ticket home.”

Don’t go, it’s not the same when you’re gone.

“Y/N, stay.” Zayn says, his voice commanding but gentle. You look up from the travel itinerary you’re studying.

“I can’t, love,” you say, lips twisting down in dismay. “You know I would if I could. I have to be back at school on Monday.”

“I know..” He sighs, moving across the room to hug you. You snuggle against him. “I just wish things were different. I don’t want you to go. It’s not the same when you’re gone.”
“I miss you too,” You say, kissing him gently. “The sooner we get this good-bye thing over with, the sooner we’ll be able to have our next hello. Just think how nice that will be.”

“I know,” he half smiles. “I’m already counting the minutes until I can see you again.”

You should probably stay, probably stay a couple more days. Come on, let me change your ticket home.

“You know, I’ve been thinking…” Liam says. You look up from your spot on the ground: you’re sitting there packing your suitcase for your departure tomorrow.


“You don’t actually need to be home tomorrow, do you?” He asks, his fingers drumming on his leg.

“No,” you respond, putting down the shirt you’re folding and moving to take his hand. “Why?”

“Why don’t you stay a couple more days?” he offers. “We’ve got a few nights off between shows, the two of us could go out and explore… It’ll be nice. I can have your ticket change in five minutes.”

“How many more days is a couple?” You laugh. “I do have to go back eventually.”

“I know,” he sighs. “It’s a problem. What if you stayed for four more days? You can come to tonight’s show, spend two more days with me, come to the next show, and then fly out the morning after?”

“Sounds lovely,” you grin, kissing him quickly. “Go ahead and change my ticket home.”

He Introduces You To Fans on Twitcam


You open the door to Louis’s flat, slipping inside quietly. You know that he’s doing a twitcam, and you’d rather not be featured on it. You don’t need to give the fans another venue to hate you on. Unfortunately, you aren’t quiet enough.
“Guys, I think Y/N is here,” you hear Louis inform the thousands of fans watching him. “C’mon, Y/N, come join the party!”

“Not right now, Lou!” You call back.

“No, now,” he grins, popping round the corner and grabbing you. You shriek as he tickles your sides, gently tugging you after him as he makes his way back down the hall and to his laptop. “Guys, look, I’ve captured the elusive Y/N! Say hi, babe.”


“Y/N, I’m going ta do a twitcam, want to join?” he asks, sticking his head round the corner of the room where you’re sprawled on the couch, deeply immersed in a book.
“Not right now, Ni, this is getting intense.” You say, not moving at all. There’s a moment of silence, and then you hear him padding over to you. He kneels down, knocking your book out of the way so that he’s directly above you. His blue eyes stare deeply into your for a moment, before he plants a feather light kiss on your jaw. “Are you seducing me into doing a twitcam?”

He kisses you again in lieu of an answer, moving fractionally up your jaw. You move to kiss his lips but he moves away, just out of your reach. You stifle a groan. “Fine! Let’s do this.”

He grins, swooping into plant a kiss on your lips. “Thanks, babe. C’mon, let’s go do this!”


“Guys, I think my lovely girlfriend is home,” You hear your boyfriend say from the back of the flat. You know from twitter that he’s in the middle of a twitcam, and you don’t much fancy being featured on it, ergo why you hadn’t gone straight in there to kiss him when you’d gotten home.

“I’m putting away the groceries,” You call back, hoping that’ll put an end to things. You don’t hear from him for several moments, and you assume that he’s gone back to his twitcam. That is, until he appears in your kitchen holding his laptop.

“Everyone, say hello to Y/N. Y/N, say hello to everyone,” he announces cheerfully. “She has gone and bought groceries, and now we won’t starve to death, which is excellent. This is why she’s the best.”

You smile in spite of yourself, moving to stand by your boyfriend. “Hi, everyone, I’m Y/N.”


“What are you doing, Harry?” you wander past, glancing over his shoulder to see that he’s in the midst of a twitcam. That explains things.

“Oh, Y/N, I’m glad you’re here,” He grins, reaching out to snake an arm around your waist and pull you back on camera. You squirm.

“What the hell, Harry?” He looks at you reprovingly.

“Tisk tisk, Y/N, no swearing on twitcam.” You roll your eyes. You two haven’t officially come out as a couple yet, although most people assume you are, so you aren’t quite sure what he’s playing at.

“I reiterate my previous statement.” He ignores you.

“Everyone, I want you to meet Y/N, my lovely girlfriend. Y/N, meet everyone. Kind of literally. Now, I really like her, so don’t scare her off  yeah?”


“So, my girlfriends somewhere in the flat, but she’s hiding…” He says, looking into the twitcam. “Should I go find her and drag her on?”

“No!” You call laughingly from the other room. “I’m good right here, thanks.”

“Do you hear that, everyone?” Zayn gasps in mock shock. “She won’t join my total awesome twitcam. Isn’t that horrible?”

“I’m a horrible person.” You call back. “Sue me”

“Don’t tempt me, I might,” he yells back. “Seriously, though, check your twitter and then obey the trending topics.

Half curious, half scared, you open your twitter to see #Y/NJoinTheTwitcam trending worldwide on twitter. You sigh, giving in and going to sit down next to your boyfriend.

“Alright, alright, you’ve convinced me. But if you’re mean I’m leaving,” you say, leaning into Zayn as he snakes an arm around you.

“Or, you know, she might threaten to sue you.”

Late Night Conversations

“I remember the first thing you ever said to me,” he whispers quietly, trying not to break the peacefulness of the night. “I saw you in the park and I asked you why you were crying. You said you were alone. You’re not alone, Y/N. You’ll never be alone. I love you so much…”

“Stop putting yourself down.” He quietly begs your sleeping, tear streaked face. “You’re beautiful, so beautiful. It’s your personality, though. Even if you weren’t as stunningly gorgeous as you are, you would be, because your personality is so beautiful. You’re perfect. I just wish you’d believe me.”

“Have you ever noticed,” he mumbles through a sleepy haze “that the more you say a word the less it seems like a word? Like purple. The more you say purple, the more you wonder who on earth came up with the word “purple”. Who looked at the color and went “I’m going to call it purple”? Words make no sense…”

“You know, normally I don’t go to sleep like this.” he says, breaking the silence. “All that time traveling on tour, you have to do something to entertain yourself. I like to chuck things at people and just generally keep everyone up late and make a nuisance of myself. But this? Lying here quietly next to you, just.. being? This is enough.”

“Our wedding is going to be interesting.” He says, absentmindedly tracing shapes on your hip. “Trying to keep the press out… We’re going to have to try to remember the names of all our relatives, the boys will act like idiots all night and probably break something, and our mums will take too many pictures. I can’t wait.”