Dan Howell
"I've been a little sick since a few days," he sniffs and I almost forgot I had asked him something. His cheeks and nose are tinted with red and he really does look sick.
"Oh well, how are you now?" I ask him as I place my canvas next to his, and take a seat on the stool. I notice the beanie covering his hair partially as ends poke out of the side. He looks like a real life anime character, and I'm not sure how I feel about that.
"Better than yesterday," He smiles at me and turns his attention back to his project. My project looks crappy in comparison to his. All I have managed to do in two classes was paint stripes on my melons and add a little bit of background. I don't speak to Phil much during the period, he looks invested in his work and I would hate if someone annoyed me when I was, so I don't say anything. Instead, I sneak glances at him wondering what the hell is so special about him that makes me want to bend him over and take him right now.
I snap out of my thoughts when Phil asks me something.
"What?" I must look like a dork to him. What the hell is wrong with me?
"I asked if you had a spare number five brush?" He asks me, holding up his messed up one as an excuse to ask me for one.
"Yeah, I am not much productive anyway." I wave my hand towards my crappy project and Phil sniffles, taking the brush from me and examining my project.
"It's not bad," He is clearly lying. I look at him, and he stares at my project, before grabbing a pencil and bending over.
His elbow rests on my thigh as he leans his body, and begins to define the structure of the apples and adds some sort of leaves. His exposed neck is inches from my mouth and if I just move a little bit forward I could-
"There it looks better now," He smiles at me, handing me the pencil and I look at my project.
"Wow, it does actually," I smile, grabbing a mouldable eraser and rubbing off the extra lines.
"You're welcome," He cheekily remarks and gets back to his own work. I decide I should do my project as well as there are less than thirty minutes left and I only have this class and one more to finish this project or I am screwed.
When the period gets over, I have managed to add the base colour to my painting, and it actually looks like something. I look beside me to find Phil working on some sort of a star I think in the far left corner of the galaxy. It looks amazing and I wish I could be that good.
"It looks great," I compliment his project and he looks at me, his cheeks getting redder than they already were.
"Thank you," he squeaks and stands up, moving to the back of the class to keep his canvas. We walk out of the class together, and I am tempted to kiss him again. I shouldn't probably, seeing that he is sick, but my brain has stopped functioning it seems.
"What class do you have now?" He asks me, as he takes small steps. He always seems to forget that we share literature, art and drama.
"I have literature, and so do you." I remind him and he slaps his forehead. It is an adorable gesture and I can't help but smile at him.
"I always forget, sorry." He mumbles embarrassed, and begins walking across the hall before I grab his arm.
"Hey there are um, still around fifteen minutes. Do you want to go for a walk? The sun is out so it'll be nice." I hesitantly ask him, and he nods blushing again. He blushes too much.
"Sure,"
--
Phil is honestly a snow poff
