One Direction | Preferences

Car Accidents

Louis: You sighed, looking how a doctor put a cast to your leg. Earlier it had hurt more than anything but now it just itched, making you crazy. You almost wished it would hurt instead of itching. “Easy there, Mrs. Tomlinson, you cannot fidget, you’re only making this harder,” the doctor said with bored voice. He was an old man, over fifties, with a small tuft of grey hair. You knew that if Louis would be with you, he’d be grinning like a fool, thinking hundred different jokes about bolding blokes. “Sorry,” you mumbled, trying to relax, adrenalin finally vanishing slowly. You had driven your car in to a pole accidentally, after trying to dodge a cat. “Stupid cat,” you mumbled under your breath, leaning to the hospital bed with a pounding head. Your body was aching, tears almost spilling over when you thought of Louis. You had no idea if someone had called him since your own phone was pretty much gone since it crashed against the window. He was in Ireland starting their tour, so he might be able to come if there wouldn’t be an interview or a show… “All done,” your doctor said dully, tapping your itching leg before getting up. He marked something to his clipboard before opening the door. A familiar voice rang through the air when he opened the door. He was close, so close… “Quite frankly, miss, I do not care! I’d like to see my wife, no matter if it’s allowed or not,” Louis’ annoyed voice yelled, making you smile a bit. You had missed him terribly, even when he had been gone only for few days. “Mr. Tomlinson..,” A female voice said patiently, but you didn’t listen. You had yelled out his name, knowing that he wouldn’t be by your side if you wouldn’t. You could hear running footsteps when Louis emerged to the doorway with big, blue, concerned eyes. His jaw was clenched and hair so messy that he must have ran his hand through it million times. “Hi stranger,” you smiled, feeling a lump in your throat. Louis was grinning when he sprinted to your bed, kissing your lips eagerly. When he pulled away, eyes relieved, you couldn’t help but start to sob. “What on earth,” Louis sighed, eyebrows furrowing when he watched you sob. He had wrapped you to his strong arms, lips brushing your forehead when he held you, whispering sweet things to your ear. “Sssh, sssh, love it’s alright,” he cooed, feeling helpless when he rocked you softly. His big hands were drawing circles to your back, trying to soothe you. “I’m sorry,” you sobbed against his chest, taking his scent in the best that you could, “I don’t know why…” Louis smiled sadly, placing a hasty kiss to your pouty lips, “It’s alright love. If it makes you feel any better, I cried the whole plane ride here…I was so scared…More scared than ever. I’m so happy you’re okay, my love, so happy.”

Zayn: You sat in the hospital waiting room, leg bouncing nervously. He had been in an operation over two hours, and it was driving you crazy. You knew nothing since they wouldn’t tell you, making you almost lose your mind. He had an car accident. That was all they said with, he’s in a operation room. Tears streamed down your cheeks when you brushed your hands over your face. Your makeup was everywhere but you didn’t mind a bit. You knew there would be pictures, but you didn’t care. All you cared was Zayn and that he was alright. Your heart was heavy when you leaned to the plastic chair, trying to calm your nerves. Zayn would be alright, you chanted to yourself, wishing that it would be true. Closing your eyes you bite your lip, feeling how the blood drained to your mouth. You were scared; he was your whole world. “Miss Y/N?” a doctor asked, making your eyes bolt open. She was standing in front of you, clutching a surgical mask on her hands. “Yes,” you whimpered voice just above a whisper. You felt lightheaded when you watched her mouth speak, not really understanding anything.  “What?” you breathed confused, feeling how your heart beat quickly against your chest. “Mr. Malik is awake, he’s asking for you. The surgery was a success, you may go to see him,” she explained with an understanding smile, making your limbs go weak. He was alright. Zayn was awake. He was asking you. He was alive. “Thank you,” you mumbled, feeling overwhelmed when she leaded you to Zayn’s room. He was laying on a small hospital bed, tubes and wires on his arms, but a small crooked smile on his stubbly face. His tattooed arms were revealed from under short sleeved hospital gown, making him look a bit funny. “Hi boo,” he said sounding exhausted. His brown eyes were tired when he eyed you, frowning when he saw you shake. “Hi,” you whispered almost soundlessly. Your hands were shaking when you reached to him, brushing them through his black, thick hair. He smiled gently, eyes drooping close every now and then. “You look worried,” he said slowly, licking his full,pink lips, making the nurse bring him some water. You helped him to drink it, your hands shaking so violently it almost spilled over. “I am,” you answered sniffling, running your hand through his hair over and over again. Zayn’s brown eyes were sad when he caught your hand on his, squeezing it lightly. His lips curved to a lopsided smile when you looked at him with teary eyes. “No need to worry anymore, boo, I’m okay. Just tired,” he mumbled reassuring, giving another gentle squeeze to your hand. You nodded, unable to stop the tears from running down your cheeks. “Go to sleep love,” you whispered back, stroking his warm, stubbly cheek when he smiled through his pain, not wanting to show it to you. “Can I just have one more thing?” he whispered, accent thick with his sleepiness. You nodded, watching his brown tired eyes, never getting enough of them, “A kiss from my love.” You smiled, lowering your lips to his plump ones, kissing him sweetly. “Now go to sleep, sweetheart. I want you to be as good as brand new as soon as possible.”

Harry: His ocean green eyes were wide when he stared at the doctor, hanging in to every word he said. “Harry I’m fine,” you protested, but he wasn’t listening you. His big hand was holding yours carefully, thumb stroking yours calmly. He hadn’t let go after you he had been allowed to your room. “She needs to be woken up every two hours to see if there are any signs of concussion. A lot of liquids are needed, if she has aches give her advil…” the doctor finished, writing something on his clipboard before smiling to you. “Is she allowed to go?” Harry asked verily, eyes big and scared as he watched you like you would break in to pieces any minute. “Yes,” you said at the same time with the doctor, making him smile a bit. “You are dismissed, just remember my advices,” the doctor said, making Harry nod before shaking hands with him. Stretching a bit you sat on the bed, yelping when Harry scooped you to his big arms. His green eyes were still wide, lips white and jaw clenched, making him look older than he truly was. “Harry, I can walk, honey,” you protested, but he just shook his head firmly, making the curls bounce a bit. He carried you all the way to the car park, opening the door of a cab for you before getting in himself. “Harry… Look at me,” you whispered, touching his hand after he had given the instructions of your house to the driver. Harry bite his lip, turning to look at you, pure guilt evident in his eyes. You gulped, feeling teary when you took his head to your hands, forcing him to look straight at you, “It was not your fault.” Your voice was fierce when you stared at him, trying to smack some sense in him. You could see his guilt, even when it was hid under his concerned smile. He swallowed heavily, biting his lip when he looked down again, playing with his long fingers. “Yes it was. I was driving, weren’t I,” he mumbled angrily, eyebrows furrowing when he played with a hole in his jeans. It was true that he had been driving, but he was no way guilty of what had happened. The road had been icy and there was no chance you could have slowed down any better. “No it wasn’t. Besides, we’re both okay, it’s over now,” you argued, feeling a bit angry that he was blaming himself of what happened. It had been your fault as well, since you had insisted you’d go to get Indian food from the town. “You’re not okay,” Harry whispered so quietly you couldn’t hear. “What?” you asked, looking at his broken figure, stroking his hand gently. “I said that you’re not okay. You might have a concussion. You’re not okay. The only one I care about more than anything in this damn world is not okay because of me,” he said angrily, tears rolling down his perfect cheeks. You could feel your heart breaking when you looked at him, bringing your lips to his salty ones. “I am just fine,” you breathed against his lips, “It was not your fault. No one is blaming you. With your quick thinking we’re both alive. You should be thankful. It could have ended up a lot worse.” Harry gulped, nodding when tears streamed down his face. He captured your lips once again, pouring every feel he had to one beautiful kiss, “I am thankful, kitten. I love you so much. You have no idea.”