Phil Lester

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You stood in front of your mirror, pulling up your hair in different styles, trying out new things you have seen on the internet.

A song was stuck in your head so you thought the best way to get it out was to sing. And you didn't exactly start out beautifully. Oh, and you didn't know that Phil was in the middle of a Tuesday live stream.

Phil was about twenty-five minutes into his live stream when he started to hear you sing. It startled him, momentarily drawing his attention from his viewers, so he pulled out his phone to discreetly text you to stop but then he started to smile.

You started out really badly it was almost silly. It made him giggle a bit. But then you gradually started to sound good. Really good. He sat there, turning his head a bit to hear you a little better, still looking down. His smirk turned into a proud smile as you hit high notes and your vibrato floated through the flat. 

So he just sat there and listened, enjoying the sound of your voice. He was a bit saddened to hear you finish but he then turned to the live stream as if nothing happened. He ignored anything having to do about you and your singing; they didn't know you were even there. Once he finished the live stream, he left to go accompany you.

When you were done singing you decided to throw in your ear buds and dance around Phil's room. Therefore you didn't hear nor see Phil enter his room, a small smile on his face. He caught you in his arms in the middle of a turn, your back to his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder. You jumped a bit, letting out a small squeak, but you knew who it was.

Phil gently reached up with one hand to take the buds out of your ears. You smiled, taking his hands in yours, resting them on your stomach. You closed our eyes and smiled as you felt a soft kiss at the base of your neck and behind your ear.

Phil held you close to him as he leaned his head lightly against yours. "You are so beautifully wonderful," he whispered, sending giddy goosebumps along your arms. 

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