dan has feelings for phil and admits them after phil comes in his room and talks to him about his scars.
WARNING:
- swearing
- self- harm/ hatred
- fluff
word count: 2,195
DAN'S POV
It was only 2:00 AM....ugh.
I had promised myself that I could only cut a few times every week. And when I say week, I mean I keep the exact hour, exact day, AM or PM, every detail. Because the way I see it, I could satisfy my longing to damage myself sooner than if I were to just ballpark it. The last time I cut was 4:00-ish AM on Thursday morning last week. It was now early Thursday morning, present time, and I was dying for that pain. That feeling of relief that only some could understand. I was only a little depressed compared to what I used to be. It used to be pitiful.
To somewhat distract myself, I decided to open my laptop and scroll through tumblr. Though it did distract me a little, it was hard to focus on anything because all I could think about was causing further destruction to myself.
I looked at the time, 2:47. Jesus CHRIST, can time go any slower?
I mindlessly scrolled for a bit longer until I found a text post that said, "i don't know if i'm empty, sad, depressed, or just...dead inside." I reblogged it because it perfectly captured all of the thoughts I was thinking and emotions I was feeling into a few words. I then continued to browse, coming across food porn, meme after meme, pictures of people surrounded by smoke, scenery, food porn, depressing pictures, 'wtf is happening i don't even know' pictures, food porn, and the occasional Phan post. Yes, I followed a few Phan accounts. By a few I mean around three- hundred. I might secretly wish Phan were real. A lot.
Speaking of which, do you ever just look at your best friend, role model, idol, teacher, mum, dad, cousin, stranger, whoever, and just marvel at them? Staring at their faces and bodies? Not in a creepy way, just to observe? Because lemme tell you..
I'm always observing Phil.
Like, I just look at him from time to time and think, 'my best friend is fucking beautiful.' The way his natural hair has a slight wave to it, his white strand that makes him look 95, but only in that spot. His round, curvy shoulders that hunch forward ever so slightly. His morning voice that sounded so soothing, and so hot at the same time. It often turns me on, not gonna lie. His laugh, my God his laugh... it's more
harmonious, more melodic, more of an eargasm than any piano piece, orchestration, or rock song. And yes, I watch the little compilation videos of him laughing just so I can hear that beautiful sound in the depths of my eardrums. It makes me happy. Makes me smile like an idiot, actually. I smile just thinking about it. I noticed my phone screen light up slightly. I glanced over to see if the Queen had maybe texted me, asking if I could be her body guard (because I'm hella muscular lolzor) for when she goes to the grocery store or something. Unfortunately, it was not the Queen. It was, though, someone who I loved and honored more than the Queen, which was obscure for a Brit. It was a text from Phil, my beautiful best friend.
It read, "hey. can I come in your room? I need to talk to you."
I replied, "yeah sure, the door's unlocked."
Not even a minute later I heard his bedroom door open, three footsteps, and then my door open. I could see a cute little smile on his face from the dim glow of the fairy lights in my room. He looked incredible. But then again, he always did.
"Hey," he said.
"Hi," I replied. "so what did you need to talk about?" I smiled.
Phil came and sat on the edge of my bed. I scooted to the side a little, offering him a bit more room. He took it with a smile.
"So..um....I was on tumblr and I saw that you reblogged a post about being empty and depressed or something, and...I just wanted to know if you're okay?"
