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Love was what he felt.
Love was what had taken such a strong liking to his heart before leaving it tattered out in the cold to die.
Love was the reason to wake up in the mornings.
Love was that smile staring back at him during sound checks and interviews.
Love was that arm wrapped around his waist as they bowed for the night.
Love was that whisper in his ear, meant for him and only him.
Love was Liam Payne.
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Love was a terrible religion.
It was the worst religion.
It was the only religion.