Depression//Phan

-4-

||Phil's POV||

Woah, woah, woah... back the train up. 

What just happened? 

Did he just... yup.

Did I  just... yup.

Did we just... yup. 

Dan and I kissed... yup. 

Then he pulled away... yup.

Then I pulled him into another kiss... yup. 

And we're still kissing... yup.

Okay, I just got all of my facts straight. I mean, it broke me from my existential crisis, his chapped lips on mine, but it didn't break me from my depression. 

I was getting quite easily addicted to the taste of Dan's lips. Though, I forced myself to stop. I was actually disappointed in myself. A little bit of depression kicked in right there. 

I pulled away from kissing Dan, and then just turned a slight shade of red.

I just ruined our friendship, didn't I? 

Ohhhhh god. I hope Dan doesn't get mad or whatever because I just kissed him... again.

Yep, Dan hates me. I can see it in his face. I can just see it. He totally hates me, I totally just ruined the friendship. 

Hot tears stung my eyes. I was so nervous that I had just ruined the friendship because of the action, and I choked back my tears. 

There was silence. Dan said absolutely nothing. He was just quiet. 

Yep, I ruined it. 

And then I ran straight to my room and shut it behind me, locking my bedroom door as well. I decided to check my social media.

Bad idea... 

Hate blown up everywhere right about now. Everything that was nice had turned to hate. There was hardly any nice things anywhere on my social media accounts anymore. 

I saw a few new trending Twitter tags. They were:

#PhilNeedsToKillHimself

#PhilShouldDie

and then there was one that didn't really fit either the hate or support categories. 

The tag was #CutForPhil

I was rather curious to see what was in the last tag trending. When I clicked... it was absolutely horrible! 

Pictures of girls cutting their arms and then giving a general statement of why not to hate on me and then tweeted it with the hashtag #CutForPhil. 

This was gruesome. So I decided to Tweet. 

'The hate doesn't bother me, so please don't harm yourselves for me. I care about each and every one of you <3 xx I'd hate to lose an amazing person like you'

I then tweeted it out and then hash-tagged it with the right hashtag. I felt bad lying to the fans, though. To everyone who cared, at least. 

For no reason, I absentmindedly clicked on the top trending tag, which was the #PhilNeedsToKillHimself. He read a few of the posts there and all that. By the end he was in tears. They were terrible! People were so mean. 

So, I got up, closed my laptop monitor, and then walked to the bathroom. 

In the bathroom, I found a razor blade. I stared at the shining, silver, little blade for a few minutes. It looked so... innocent. And yet, one drag across the skin... it wasn't so innocent anymore now, was it? I shut the bathroom door, locked it, and then picked up the little razor blade. Tears were still falling down my face. This was the only way I could think of to help with all the pain I was dealing with. 

I rolled up my long-sleeve Christmas jumper that I was wearing, even though it was nowhere NEAR Christmastime yet. Tears continued to roll down my cheeks. I gripped the razor blade between my fingers. My quiet weeps became quiet-ish sobs. I pressed the blade to my wrist, sliding it across in a straight line. Blood ran down the sides of my wrist, and dripped into the sink. I stared long and hard at my reflection, inspecting every inch of how I looked. I then looked back at the cut I made. My first cut. I went about an inch below that one, but before I was about to slide it across his wrist, I heard knocking on the bathroom door. 

||Dan's POV|| 

"Phil," I said, knocking on the bathroom door, rather frantically. It had been about 5 minutes and I didn't get a response from Phil, but he was still in there, crying. It was worrying me. 

"Phil, open the door. Please," I begged, and then he unlocked the door, and when I entered, I saw somewhat-fresh blood running down his left arm up to about his elbow crease, and blood drops in the sink. It was gruesome. Phil was in tears. 

Phil had cut himself.

I gasped when I saw the sight. Tears were welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. 

"P-Phil... why? Why would you harm yourself like this?" I asked him, a tear rolling down my cheek. 

"Because. I've tried, and tried, and tried, and tried, and tried to be strong through the hate. It's just... I've had enough of it... I'm tired of dealing with it! There are literally trending tags on Twitter about how I should kill myself and all that and just ugh.... I'm sorry...." I don't even know if Phil knew why he was apologizing. 

I hug him the best I can without managing to get Phil's blood on me. Then I let go, and tell him to rinse the blood from the raw cuts in his skin. And he does. And they eventually stop bleeding. 

When Phil comes back, all you can see on his arm now are the three cuts (no blood). Just three, simple, raw cuts. All about 1 inch apart from the other, all the way from his wrist, and to about a little below halfway up Phil's arm. He tugged his shirt sleeve down over the cuts. 

"Dan, I have something else to tell you..." Phil said to me, and I looked at him, waiting for an answer. 

"Well, all those times you've asked me if I'm okay..." he paused before continuing. He smiled. "I'm just fine. Except for today -- they were just too rude today, and it made me take it this far," he said. I nodded slowly. I was contemplating on if he was lying or not, although I doubt he would be. He was acting kind of strange.

"Okay. But Phil, promise me that you'll never cut again. Please. I don't like seeing you hurt," I said to him, and he looked down, nodding slowly.

"I can try." 

A/N: Weird spot to leave off in much? Yes, very. But trust me, you'll understand more of it in the next chapter(s). :)