#912: 'You're cute when you're jealous.'
Louis: He's grinning wide when you shove him away, hands lingering on his chest, as you try your hardest to maintain a straight face. You should be really mad at him. "You're cute when you're jealous," he coos, trying to wrap his hands around your waist until you push him away again, "Aw, baby, seriously? Don't be upset, I didn't mean to make you jealous." He keeps throwing the word out there, knowing it's frustrating you and turning you red all over, and his stupid wolfy smirk stays on his face the entire time. "I'm not jealous," you start to mumble, though his hands are tickling your sides and he's kissing your face all over, laughing when your feeble attempts turn sordid. "I love you," he whispers in your ear, keeping you still, "You're adorable like this and you know it."
Niall: Slurring a, "You're cute when you're jealous," probably wasn't the best thing to do because now he's sobered up a bit and he's staring at you with blue eyes and you almost throw up -- and it's not because you're drunk, it's because he's making your stomach hurt while looking at you like that. "Cute?" His loud voice booms in the living room of your shared flat, "You think it's fucking cute when I'm pissed off like this? He had his hands all over you!" He runs his shaking hands through his hair and resists tugging out the blonde locks. "We're not even dating, Niall," you say as you stumble over your feet to remove your shoes, "Remember? Just sex. You don't want me like that." Your bottom lip wobbles as tears fill up your eyes. "Of course I do," he whispers, "I always do."
Liam: The silent treatment wasn't working well because soon he got the gist of what was going on. "Are you seriously jealous? Of her? I wasn't even flirting with her! My eyes were on you the whole time!" "But she was prettier than me," you whispered, so quietly he almost couldn't hear, and then you wrapped your arms around yourself and did that thing where it made him realize that you were seconds away from closing in on yourself and locking up every door to every insecurity ever. His voice suddenly turns comforting, soft; "Hey, wait a minute." He catches your elbow and steers you to him, tucking you into the hard wall of his chest. "You're cute when you're jealous," he whispers, "You're the most beautiful thing ever. I don't understand why you don't know that."
Zayn: Blood drips from the cuts in his hands and it stings when you apply pressure to it. "Not my fault," you mumble, "You shouldn't have hit him." Though, it is your fault, sort of, and he knew you were going to be the prettiest person there and he should have just convinced you to stay home with him and curl up on the sofa to watch a movie. "Is this a bad time to say you're sort of cute when you're jealous?" you question out loud moments later, and if he weren't still shaking from adrenaline, he would have smiled. "Mine," he snipes, curling his fingers around yours as you spread lotion over his knuckles. Your eyes lift up to meet his and you smile back a little bit at him. "Yeah, yeah, Mr. Macho. I know. I get it." He kisses your hand and closes his eyes as you fix him up.
Harry: "You're cute when you're jealous," you say with a giggle, and he shoots you an impatient look while tightening his hold on your hand and leading you back to his Range Rover. "Not funny," he replies in monotone, though the ends of his lips are kinking up into a smile that says otherwise, "I didn't like how he was flirting with you." You want to roll your eyes so you do, and he catches the look, and he halts to a stop and pulls you flush against his chest so he can lean down and capture your lips with his own. He tugs on your bottom lip until it's bleeding and until he's out of breath. "I would have punched him, you know." You laugh at that and kiss him again and again, until his lips are red. He's trying his best to be protective and macho, and it's more than cute. It's kind of attractive.
