1D Punk: The First "I Love You"

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Harry: “Come on tour with me, it’ll be fun you said” you state with an angry glare while crossing your arms. “Not now,” Harry pleads through a sigh, turning to look at you over his shoulder while standing at baggage claim. “That chances of them losing your luggage are pretty slim, you said” you state again, refusing to let Harry off the hook in the middle of the Argentinean international airport. “Y/N, not now! I’m sorry, alright” Harry groans, scrubbing his hands over his face while wishing the floor would open and swallow him.

“No, it’s not alright! Harry, all of my stuff was in that suitcase! All I have is a book, a phone, a computer, and some random ass shit in my carry on! We’re not even going to be in this country long enough to get my stuff… what am I going to do?” you demand, tapping your foot against the granite floors and Harry takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. “I’ll buy you what you need then,” he counters, crossing his arms as the two of you stare at one another.

“Sir… your suitcase should be here later tonight, we’ll have it sent to your hotel” the Spanish woman offers, a suggestive smile on her red lips for your boyfriend and you throw your hands up in anger before storming off. “I didn’t even want to come in the first place and then some Spanish whore flirts with you while we’re in the middle of a fight?! You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mumble to yourself, intent on flagging down a cab to head to the hotel on your own.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” Harry questions, appearing at your side as you stand on the curb. “Fuck off,” you snap, smiling to yourself as a cab pulls over. “Stop acting like a child. You make it really hard to love you when you do that,” Harry snaps, pushing you into the cab before following behind you to give the cab driver the address to your hotel. “Did you say you loved me?” you question after ten minutes of tense silence. “Yeah,” he answers, turning to look at you as lift your sunglasses on top of your messy bun. “On the curb of an airport after I told you to fuck off?” you question, crossing your arms as you turn to press your back against the window.

“Yeah, after you were acting like a child in the middle of baggage claim,” Harry counters, shifting to look at you. “You’re an idiot,” you say, glaring at him and he breaks out into a grin. “And you’re a bitch,” he counters, leaning across the way to press a kiss to your smiling lips. “I kind of love you too,” you respond against his lips, tangling your fingers in his hair so he can’t pull away. “Only kind of?” he teases, nuzzling your nose with his and you shrug.

“A lot of kind of” you respond with an easy smile, lost luggage forgotten because as long as you had Harry, you didn’t need much more.

Liam: “She’s a fucking bitch and you know it,” you counter, titling your head as you challenge Liam’s friend to deny. “Ok, she may be mean but… I wouldn’t call her a bitch,” Andy defends, raking his fingers threw his beloved mane of hair as you wait at the salon. “She demanded you cut your hair off, told you you’d always be a deadbeat with it, and then accused you of sleeping with me” you list, sparing him a glance and Andy shrunk in his chair.

“What am I suppose to do? She’s a dancer, she could really help me out and point me towards the right people to get into the business” Andy defended, walking as slow as possible towards the chair where he’d loose all his hair. “Andy, you’re an amazing dancer and you have so much potential… you don’t need some girl who can only do choreography to help you get into the scene. She’s useless and mean… Liam even agrees with me but he’d never tell you that, he’s too nice and you mean too much to him,” you remind him, patting Andy’s knee.

“Andy… I thought I told you to cut your hair,” Danielle questions, crossing her arms over her chest while staring him down in the middle of Liam’s store. “I decided not to,” Andy answers, shifting on his feet as her eyes widen in anger. “Andy, you look like such a deadbeat with all that hair! You’ll never amount to anything if you don’t cut it,” Danielle shrieks and you’ve had just about enough of her ramen noodle hair attitude.

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