Misfit (Phan AU)

Chapter Eight

"I don't know, I'm just really happy to see you. I couldn't help it." I muttered, my top half hanging over the armrest on the opposite side of the couch from where I'd been laying earlier. It was her fault for sitting on the very edge, now I'd ended up in this embarrassing position. At the same time though, I didn't really mind, I was the one that tried to hug her in the first place.

I scrambled back onto the couch lacking all the grace in the world, falling back against it with a huff before turning to face her. After our failed embrace she'd moved to sit on the opposite side of the couch, well, technically hover, but it wasn't really necessary to remind myself of that every time I saw her doing something, it was just naturally implied now. "I was so worried I messed things up, like really bad this time."

"You mess the up bad every time, I just don't have any other unsuspecting ghost psychics to go prey on, so I'm stuck with you." She explained, looking over at me and smiling fondly at my offended expression. She lifted her hand and gave the idea of slapping me playfully on the cheek a few times, even if I couldn't actually feel it.

I blushed, wiping the stupid look off my face and staring down at my lap, nervously twiddling my thumbs as I tried to figure out what to reply to that with. In the end I gave in and said what was really on my mind, despite how much I'd probably regret it if she ever were to bring it up again.

"I'm glad." I whispered quietly, flushing deeply as I refused to look at her reaction to my genuine words. It wasn't a lie, I really was glad I was her only choice, God knows she would have left by now if that wasn't the case, I don't really have any redeeming qualities other than that. I'm not very interesting to be around, I'm definitely not nice, I'm not even good-looking. If it weren't for the fact I can communicate with her there's no chance any ghosts would follow me around. Then again, why would I want ghosts following me in the first place, whether I could communicate or not? I'm not thinking about ghosts in general, I'm thinking about Cat. She's the only one that matters to me.

I don't know where I'd be without her honestly, she's really the only constant in my life these days, the one I can count to be there no matter how badly I mess up each time. Everyone else always put themselves first or left when the going got too tough for them, it's just natural for me to expect people to walk out. I guess that's why I was so worried about her not coming back, even if it was unrealistic to think that way. If I really wanted to go there, I guess I could say it's probably part of my reasoning behind the whole not-opening-up-to-Phil situation as well. But I don't want to go there, and definitely not right now, so I won't.

"What?" Cat prodded, batting her eyelashes as she leaned closer to me, grinning wildly. I scoffed, rolling my eyes and hugging my knees to my chest, unintentionally tensing up around her.

"I'm not saying it twice if that's what you're trying to do here." I muttered quietly, shooting her a glare out of the corner of my eye, still not forward enough to outright turn and face her. I was already regretting saying it, embarrassed and flushed all over. This is why I don't tell how I'm really feeling, it only ends in feeling all messed up and nervous.

"It's not." She sighed, thankfully realizing what she was doing to me and stopping the teasing before it got any further. I was thankful for that, the way she could tell when to call it quits and give me my space. She'd never really know how much I appreciated the consideration.

I was planning on saying something along the lines of exposing just how thankful I was, but a different sound from out of the room cut me off. There was a loud thump that could only really be attributed to Phil rolling out of bed. Or at least, that's what I was assuming, given the loud cry of protest followed by a long lazy yawn. I scrunched my face up in amusement, trying and failing to keep from vocally expression it as a quiet giggle escaped my lips, just picturing the stupid movement of him crashing out of his bed and then just yawning there on the floor. It was such a Phil thing to do. I wasn't sure when I got to the point of knowing him well enough to say what were Phil things and what weren't, but I didn't dwell on that, too amused by the picture to really care about the details for a change. He's such an idiot. "Are you going to apologize to him already? Or do I have to take off and leave you alone again?"