5SOS Preferences & Imagines

#113 - When He Knew He Loved You

Luke: When did I know I loved you? That's the easiest question I've ever been asked. It wasn't gradual, and I didn't expect it. It hit quickly, like a cold gust of wind too early in the morning. Morning - that's when it happened. You had slept over, which wasn't out of the ordinary. You were my best friend, after all. Of course I had considered you in a more than friends way, but never seriously. But that day, I don't know what changed. I woke up and rolled over, expecting to find you curled up on the other side of my bed. I was disappointed when you were missing, and that was new. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and the new vacancy from my gut. I fell back on my bed, running a hand through my hair and thinking about you in a new way. I heard the door open and sat up instantly. My heart beat faster and I swallowed new nerves. "I made coffee," you announced, handing me a mug before sitting beside me on the mess of sheets. "What?" you mumbled, cheeks going red as I stared at you in awe. "I - nothing," I shook my head and looked down at my shaking hands. "You look like you just saw a ghost," you chuckled, moving a hand in front of my face to stir me from my trance. "I'm just cold," I lied weakly. "Don't be cold," you giggled, wrapping your arms and a blanket around me. Your touch felt new, and it sent shivers down my spine. I knew it was love, and I knew it was real.

Ashton: I knew way before I told you I knew. I fall fast, but I had to be sure. I knew you were scared of love - that your past experiences made those words heavier than they needed to be. I respected that, and I waited. It was only after a week of you being my actual girlfriend that I knew. You were leaving my house pretty late. The plan was for you to stay the night, but we had had a small fight, and you wanted to go home. I told you to stay anyway. You were tired, and I didn't want you falling asleep at the wheel. You insisted on leaving, though. "Text me when you get home safe," I pleaded, showing love even in my anger. I was mad, but I still needed you to be safe. You slammed my front door without a response. I waited a half hour, and you didn't text me. You should have been home. I called you once with no response, and my heart rate picked up. I should have known you were just being difficult, but instead I drove to your house. I pounded on your door, needing to know you made it home. You opened the door in your pajamas, with mascara tracing tears down your precious cheeks. "What are you doing here?" you mumbled, wiping at your face furiously, insistent on showing no weakness. "I needed you to be safe," I admitted, hugging you tightly. You tensed up, stunned by my admittance of care even in a fight. "I'm safe," you chuckled, visibly shocked by my behavior. Your body shook against mine, and I realized you were crying again. "Are you alright?" I whispered, rubbing your back to calm you down. "No one has ever cared about me as much as you do," you admitted quietly, "I don't deserve you." "You deserve so much more than me," I insisted, walking you to your bedroom. I tucked you in and you fell asleep quickly. You didn't know until weeks later, but I told you for the first time that night. "I love you," I whispered to your fragile, sleeping silhouette.

Michael: I'm a procrastinator; I've always known that. I tried to push off loving you, mostly because it scared me. I would think about it a lot, but then I would push it to the back of my mind with excuses like "I don't even know what love is." That was true before I met you. Loving you crept up on me. It started with a few casual dates. You were hot, that's all. I didn't know you were funny and smart, and I didn't know how easy it would be to talk to you. I had no idea you would understand me like you did. By the third date I found myself wishing I was with you constantly. I wanted to know everything about you, and, strangely, I wanted you to know everything about me. I was packing for our weekend away, nervously sorting through my clothes and the clothes of all the other boys to ensure I had all the right things. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're in love with this girl," Luke remarked. I told him he was an idiot, but I left out the part about my heart skipping a beat every time I heard your name. I went to pick you up, and when you got in my car with sunglasses too big for your face and a confident smile, my heart didn't skip a beat. It stopped entirely. Conversation was easy for the entire two hour car ride, but in the back of my mind I couldn't stop thinking, "I'm in love. I'm in love. I'm in love." The weekend went better than I could have ever hoped, and when I returned home with an irrepressible smile, my friends knew. "How was your time with Mrs. Clifford?" Calum teased. I pushed him and ignored the comment, but in my head I tied your first name to my last, perfectly pleased with the way it fit. I was in love. I didn't tell you for months after that, I had to make sure it wasn't too soon. I had to be positive you would say it back, because if I had to hear anything other than "I love you, too" in response I would have died.

Calum: You knew it as soon as I did. I was never good at hiding my feelings, and you know I've never had a filter. I was tired of being teased about you. The constant nagging from the boys about me being whipped would have been unendurable if it wasn't for the fact that it was hopelessly true. How could I ever have resisted anything you asked of me? Your puppy dog eyes took the word "no" out of my vocabulary. One night you had stayed over, and I was making you breakfast when Michael, Luke and Ashton stopped by. "Shh," I pleaded as they entered the living room, "She's still sleeping." "Are you making breakfast?" Michael asked, eyebrows raised in disbelief. I nodded sheepishly, returning to the kitchen to cook, now with an audience. I barely listened to the remarks of my friends as I focused on not burning the chocolate chip pancakes. "I didn't know you cooked for girls," Ashton chuckled. "I haven't before," I explained distractedly, "But - I dunno - I want her to be happy." "You never cook breakfast for us," Luke pouted, "Do you not want us to be happy?" I rolled my eyes and shrugged, too busy on perfecting your breakfast to give my friends my full attention. "I just don't love you," I joked, not fully realizing what I had said. "Youlove her?" Michael clarified, shocked. "Of course I love her," I answered in annoyance, "Now shut up I'm trying to cook for the woman I love." The three of them sat at the table in silence, still watching me finish. You pattered in moments later, smiling when you caught the smell of food. "You cooked?" you questioned in awe. "Yes ma'am," I answered, setting a plate down in your usual seat at my table. "You're the best," you sighed, sitting down and beginning to eat. "Yeah, well I'm also in love with you," I added suddenly. You nearly choked.