One Direction Preferences

#36: He Gives You The Silent Treatment [Part 1]

Louis:

You open the apartment door, sighing when you hear the noise from the TV - Louis was home then. "Babe," you call out as you take off your coat and shoes, "I'm really sorry about having to cancel today last minute,". No response. You wander into the living room and sit beside him on the couch, but he doesn't even look over at you. "Hello?" you wave your hand in front of his face slightly, "Anyone there?". He unfolds his arms to point over to the dining table, before refolding them again, continuing to stare straight forward at the TV. You sigh, getting up and moving over to the dining table, finding a piece of paper lying there. You chuckle as you read, 'I'm not talking to you', and look back over at him eyebrow raised, "Really? Is this a joke?". When he doesn't reply again, you sigh, knowing he must be really upset, "I'm sorry babe, I really am,".

Liam:

You were resting against the kitchen counter, eyes glued to the front door as you tapped your nails anxiously on the counter top. You and Liam had had a little argument that morning before he'd gone out to work, and the two of you never fought. You realised the second he closed the door behind him that you'd been in the wrong, but he hadn't answered your calls, or texts throughout the day, so you'd cooked his favourite meal for dinner, in hope it would soften him up a bit. You jump when the door creaks open, and you call out cheerily, "Hiya babe, good day?". He looks up at you in surprise for a moment before mumbling an unintelligible reply. As he walks across the room, not even looking in your direction, you add, "I'm making your favorite dinner - it'll be done in about ten minutes,". He looks back over his shoulder at you and nods once, his face emotionless, before continuing to walk into the bedroom, closing the door instantly behind him. You lean forward onto the kitchen counter until you feel the cool tile on your cheek and you sigh, you'd really screwed up.

Zayn:

The tension in the room was so thick you could slice it with a knife. For one, the two of you were sat at opposite ends of the kitchen table, whereas you'd usually be leaning against eachother. You watch as Zayn's head lazily droops to rest on his hand, and you try again to make some sort of conversation. "So how was work today? You had that meeting with Simon right?" you start, watching him carefully, but he doesn't even show any sign of hearing you, "How did it go? Wasn't about some other endorsement or...?". You trail off, feeling awkward just hearing the sound of your own voice echoing around the apartment. You move closer to Zayn with a sigh, your hand resting on his arm, "Look Zayn, I know you're mad at me, and i'm sorry. Just talk to me yeah? You can't ignore me forever,". At that he stands up and walks straight out of the apartment without so much as a word, and you let your head fall into your hands as the tears start to roll down your cheeks.

Niall:

It had been fair to say Niall wasn't too happy with you when you'd told him you didn't feel up to going to the award show along with him and the boys - you were ill, and had a migraine. He'd been mad, but then he'd calmed down, and you thought he understood as he bid you farewell with a "Feel better,". But you were starting to question that statement when he hadn't answered any of your calls or texts as you tried to congratulate him on their wins (you'd been watching on the TV). Despite all your body wanted to do was sleep, you forced yourself to stay awake until the early hours when Niall stumbled back in. "Well done babe," you grin, getting to your feet, "I'm so proud of you guys - you must be so happy!". He rolls his eyes, ignoring the steps you were taking towards him, walking straight past you and into the bedroom. You followed him in, finding him lying on his side of the bed, but unlike usually, he was facing the wall.

Harry:

"Harry, look, I know you're mad," you start, looking over the table at him desperately. "What makes you think that?" he asks dully, staring down at his plate, pushing the food around aimlessly. "Harry, you won't even look at me," you whine, "I'm sorry I forgot, it's just there's been so much stuff going on lately and it just slipped my mind. This is all perfect," you gesture towards the meal he'd prepared, but still you receive no real response. You sigh, muttering, "I thought it was the girl who was meant to get upset when the guy forgot their anniversary - what no Harry, I didn't mean, ugh," you watch as your boyfriend gets up from the table and walks straight out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. Candlelit dinner for one it is then.

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