He forgets your anniversary.
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Harry: You hadn’t been fazed when you woke the morning of, your phone lacking a certain message you’d been expecting to receive from Harry, moving on with your day as planned. Though he was away with work, you’d been hoping for something, some sort of acknowledgment of what today represented for your relationship, a year since you’d gotten together. All day you’d been on the lookout for something, constantly checking your phone and peeking out the window, hoping a delivery truck of some sort would pull into the drive. With the night coming to a close and still no sign from Harry, you decided to brush it off, until three days later when your phone rang, Harry exclaiming, “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Louis: “Just tell me what I did.” Louis groaned, always hating when you gave him the silent treatment. You walked around the house, waiting for him to realize. You went on about your day as usual, spending the day with Louis in the house, simply not with him. You cleaned a little, handling a bit of personal business before Louis came into the room, sheepish with his head hanging low. He walked over to the bed, sitting cross-legged in front of you. “I was supposed to remember. I just lost track of the days and when I looked at the calendar—“ He pushed his face into his palm, reaching for the bedside drawer where he pulled out a small box. “I’d gotten a gift for you weeks ago so I don’t know how I forgot but happy anniversary.” He opened it for you, revealing a present that had you forgetting that he’d even missed the day by a few hours.
Niall: Niall had never been good at lying, giving him away as soon as you woke him, a smile on your face as you pressed your lips to his. “What was that for?” He asked. You hit him playfully, thinking he was joking. “Happy anniversary silly.” You grinned, Niall’s face going red as he stammered, finding the words. “Happy anniversary?” It sounded more like a question than a statement. “You forgot.” Your brow rose, Niall shaking his head immediately in an attempt to deny it though he’d already given himself away. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you. We’re gonna have the best day. We’ll do whatever you want to.”
Liam: You’d been especially chipper on the day that marked a year of be wed to Liam. Though he’d been away for a while, you were excited for your surprise to fly out to him to celebrate your day. Your leg bounced with anxiousness as you awaited landing, exciting about seeing Liam once again and hopeful that you’d have a good anniversary night, heading straight to his hotel to surprise him after his show. With the night all planned, wine settled in an ice bucket, petals littering the floor, new lingerie adorning your body and Liam’s gift on the bed you were ready for a special night. Your heart hammered against your chest when you heard the door clicking shut, Liam’s voice echoing a goodnight to everyone before he walked straight to the bedroom, his eyes wide as he caught sight of you. “I can’t believe you’re here!” He beamed, lifting you from the ground before setting you back down, a devious glint in his eye. “Here, open this first.” You nodded towards the bed, a box that held a little package of all of his favorite treats and a few things he’d been wanting and asking for, the little note that sat atop reading the words, “Happy anniversary my love.” Liam stammered as he looked over the note again, setting it back down. “Happy…anniversary?” It sounded like more of a question, the look of guilt on his face letting you know that he’d forgotten. A tinge of disappointment and anger washed through you, saddened and disheartened as you headed to the bathroom, changing from your garments and coming back out to find an equally as upset Liam with himself, an mistake he’d be sure not to make again.
Zayn: You hadn’t said anything when Zayn went out with his friends, leaving you home to spend the night alone. You sat on the bed, the night nearly coming to an end when you heard the door swing open, Zayn’s heavy footsteps coming to the bedroom, his eyes wide as he climbed into the bed, kneeling across from you. “I’m such an idiot.” He stated, looking for some type of reaction though your eyes remained on your book, moving back and forth with each line. “We were on the way back and I checked Twitter, which you know I don’t check much and it was trending and I’m an idiot.” He spoke though the happenings hadn’t justified his forgetting, but perhaps a few kisses and a lot of graveling would.