One Direction Preferences

Turn Your Face (Liam)

In my memory, all the small things are like daggers in my mind.
In my memory, whilst my head bleeds, the words I'll never find that I always meant to say to you, I can't . . .

You and Liam usually got along. At times, it would be hard since both of your guys' personalities were completely opposites. But nevertheless, you two would find away to make it work. But this time, you couldn't handle it. You had just seen Liam with another girl who looked an awfully lot like one of his exes. You and Danielle were on good terms, so you knew that she wouldn't have done anything else like that. Plus, you always hated Sophia when you first met her. She was always snot-nosed and bitchy towards you. You were at home, laying on your bed, twisted up in your millions of blankets that you had found throughout your house. You were glad that you didn't move in with Liam when he asked you to. Without even trying, tears fell down your cheeks once again . . .

Cause you turned your face, and now I can't feel you anymore.
Turn your face so now I can't see you anymore.
Walk away until you're not standing at my door.
Turn your face, walk away, and stay.
Turn your face, uh oh . . .

You knew something was up with Liam ever since he started leaving in the middle of the night. It was only time when you'd realized what was going on. Within the week, Liam had texted you and called you millions of times, trying to get your attention. You didn't tell Liam or the boys the reason why you left. Heck, you didn't even say farewell. You were so upset with Liam, you didn't really care anymore. You had decide to pick up your phone to see how popular you were with the boys today. You had tons of missed calls by all the boys, mainly from Liam. Same with texts. Just before you received another text from him, you just got furious all of a sudden and threw your phone against the far wall. "Fuck you Liam . . ." you whispered to yourself shrilly as you laid back down, trying to get some sleep . . .

In my memory, I was hurting long before we met, oh.
In my memory, they're still burning, fingerprints you left.
And I always meant to say to you, “I can't . . .”

You awoke to something hard knocking on wood or something similar. It rang out all through your house, annoying the shit out of you. Groaning, you slowly got up and threw the covers off your body. The cold air attacking you in your fragile state. Grabbing the comforter, you stumbled to the door of your apartment. The knocking still continues as you moan out in frustration. "Hold the fuck on or I'm not even going to answer the fucking door," you scream at the person on the other side. The annoying sound stops momentarily as you make your way to the door. Grumbling to yourself, you unlock the locks and grab the handle. Ripping open the door, you see the last person you've been expecting for the past week. "Liam . . ."