Intriguing (phan)

4 - comfortable

(dan)

dan is pacing the kitchen at 7 o'clock in the evening, desperately wondering why phil was still in his room. was it healthy to sleep this far into the day? is phil even asleep? why else would he not eat anything all day? dan doesn't know, but after a week of having cereal and enjoyable conversations with phil every morning, the sudden withdrawal makes him feel odd.

his brain keeps trying to convince him that phil had seen him using his telekinesis and was avoiding him, but at the same time, he feels like phil would say something instead of just ignore him.

dan isn't having any more of it, so before he can stop himself, he is lightly knocking on phil's door. he is almost shaking with nerves as the long silence drags on. finally, just as he is about to retreat back to his room in embarrassment, he hears a quiet, "come in."

he hesitantly pushes open the door. the room is pitch black and completely silent. the duvet is in a massive pile in the middle of the bed and dan can't even see phil.

"uh, hey," dan starts off awkwardly and phil doesn't respond. "i was just checking on you. you haven't eaten anything all day," dan continues, still standing at the door, and now wringing his hands in nervousness.

phil scoffs, before saying. "i can't get up. it's too bright outside."

dan brings his eyebrows together in confusion. why does it matter if it's too bright? will phil start glittering? he silently tells his mind to shut up, before softly asking, "what's wrong?"

phil groans. "migraine."

before he can help himself, dan is blurting, "oh good, i thought you'd turned into a vampire."

phil doesn't laugh - as he usually does when dan says something slightly unusual - and the silence stretches.

"uh, do you want me to get you painkillers or something?" dan says, remembering how phil bandaged his finger when it was bleeding. it was time to make it up to him.

"yes, that would be good," phil answers, yet his voice still sounds slightly strained.

"do you need to take them on a full stomach?" dan doesn't want to put phil in even more pain and he knows phil hasn't eaten a single thing all day.

"not paracetamol."

"ok, i'll get you some," dan says, feeling helpful as he speeds to the kitchen and uses his telekinesis to quickly fill up a glass of water as another part of his brain focuses on opening a drawer and grabbing the medication.

he then speeds back to phil's room, carefully watching the cup to make sure the liquid doesn't slosh over the sides.

when he reaches phil's room, he notices that the duvet is thrown on the floor. phil is sitting up against the headboard. his eyes are closed and the pained expression on his face, as he clutches the left side of his head, makes dan stop in his tracks for a second.

he then quickly walked towards phil, carefully handing the glass to him. upon seeing how much his hand was trembling, dan secretly controls the glass with his mind to make sure it wouldn't fall from phil's grip. this is surprisingly much harder than dan had expected it to be and he has to focus on his breathing for a few moments to make it work.

finally, when the cup is steady in phil's left hand, dan pops out two tablet's into phil's other hand. phil doesn't hesitate in leaning his head back and dropping the tablets into his mouth, before downing the entire glass of water.

"do you want another?" dan asks softly.

"no, no," phil shakes his head.

"you're probably really hungry. i can make you chicken soup?" dan offers before he can stop himself. "i mean, that's what i make when i'm sick."