One Direction Imagine

Yup. The title says it all. It's superlong because it was originally a oneshot.

Chapter 1

This Is Why

Imagine...

You're sitting in the back seat of your twin sister's car, with your arms crossed. She and her year-long boyfriend Harry Styles are laughing together up front as Harry parallel parks in front of a huge house.

"'Oh, come with us,' she said. 'Oh, it'll be fun!' she said," you grumble to yourself as you're being ignored like you always are when they drag you along on their outings. You never want to go, because you just end up being the third wheel, but you're just too nice to say no. So of course you end up going and of course you have a lousy time.

And you don't expect this house party to be any different.

As you enter, the bass thumps in your chest. People are dancing everywhere, the lighting dim. Right away, your sister and Harry take off, just like you knew they would. So you head off to the kitchen where there is sure to be some sort of entertainment for you in the form of food.

The kitchen is bright and empty of people, surprisingly, and the music is muffled. You search every painted-white cabinet and drawer until you find a paring knife. You "borrow" an apple from a bowl on the countertop, and then you perch yourself on a barstool.

Your back's to the party, as you don't want to watch everyone--your dear sister and her boyfriend in particular--have fun.

Stacking a thick layer of paper napkins on the counter, you proceed to cut your apple into slices. You're right in the middle of a cut when you feel someone tap your shoulder. When you jump, the knife bites into your skin. "Goddammit!" you yelp.

Trying to staunch the flow of blood from your palm, you whip around to find the most gorgeous guy you think you've ever seen, even though he is wearing stripes. Your jaw drops.

"Hullo," he says. Hot damn. He's British. "I--God, you're bleeding!" He grabs my shoulders and steers me towards the bathroom.

You sit on the rim of the tub while Mr. Stripes gets out peroxide and a very large bandaid. He sits down beside you and begins disinfecting. After a moment, you give him your name.

"I'm Louis Tomlinson," he replies. Well, you think. The world really is that small. You know of One Direction, but Harry's the only one you've seen.

"My twin sister's dating Harry," you say, just to drop his name. Louis nods, gently applying the bandaid.

"Yeah. I've met her. She's been going everywhere and doing everything with him lately."

"I know," you say glumly. "They ditched me again to go dancing tonight." Louis is silent.

"Would you like to dance with me?" he asks. Your eyes widen and you suddenly can't speak, so you just point at yourself in a silent, who, me? "Yes, you," he says with a laugh. "No one else in this bathroom, is there?"

You find your voice. "Why me?" you squeak. "There are much cooler and prettier girls here."

Louis takes your face in his hands and pushes your hair out of your eyes. "Why you? This is why. I think you're beautiful, and unique. You and your sister, you're different. You are. You are beautiful, and when your sister showed me a picture of you, you stuck with me. And when I saw you in real life for the first time tonight, I couldn't keep my eyes off of you. I couldn't stop thinking about you. I thought, 'I want to know her.'"

And then, his lips are on yours, warm and soft and tenative. He tastes of cinnamon and smells of spice. When you finally get enough sense to kiss him back, he deepens, like he's pouring out his heart and soul. The world has narrowed to you and him; the music has faded away and the pain in your hand has all but vanished. You place your hand on the back of his neck, his skin prickling under your touch. The universe opens beneath you both, and swallows you whole.

When he finally breaks the kiss, he murmurs, lips brushing yours, "So how about that dance?" Your heart swells with happiness. You don't answer, you just take his hand and lead him out the door. For once in your life, you feel special, like your own person.

As you step onto the darkened dance floor lit only by glowsticks, you feel like you're radiating some sort of light. A slow song comes on, and Louis pulls you close. You bury your face into his neck.

You feel like you're glowing brighter than the sun.

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