Lacking [Phan]

carente

the fiercest anger of all, the most incurable,

is that which rages in the place of dearest love.

-euripides, medea and other plays

Dan remained quiet in response to Phil's question, refusing to even do so much as open his other eye. He felt as though this way, he wasn't giving Phil his full attention. This meant that whatever interaction following the conversation Phil obviously intended to have was in no way Dan's fault.

Phil, not getting an answer from the boy on the ground, took it upon himself to sit down anyway. He sat with his back against the rough bark, letting his wings fall to the side. The silence hung between them as neither took the liberty to be the first to speak.

"You've been distant," Phil spoke after some time, turning to Dan who still kept only one eye cracked open. At the sudden contact however, he immediately shut it.

"Yeah? Well... so have you." The last part shook with uncertainty. Dan dug his right heel into the ground hard, trying his best not to let his frustration override him.

Phil let out a tiny sigh and leaned his head back against the tree. "You're right, I have been."

He left it at that for a few minutes. The pair sat semi-awkwardly in each other's company, one staring upwards at the tree's leafy branches while the other remained fixated on the ground.

Finally, Phil spoke again.

"So," He carefully began. "Charlie told me he saw you painting a lovely piece earlier in the week."

"I bet he fucking did," Dan mumbled, the tips of his ears growing hot. "I'm sure 'lovely' was the exact phrasing he used."

"It wasn't," Phil admitted. "But I assumed it was, or is, I guess. Everything you paint is surely wonderful."

"You've never seen it. And it was a piece of shit."

A serious expression slipped onto Phil's face; his brows furrowed and his thin lips came together to form a slight frown. "Why are you always so hard on yourself?"

"Because there's nothing to be pleased about."

Dan felt awful for being so sour towards Phil. After all, Phil had been one of the only people to ever acknowledge him or show any kind of interest. But deep down, Dan knew he had reason to be upset.

"Dan, I can explain everything." Phil's voice shifted into a tone Dan had never heard before. It sounded broken and complex; like every emotion currently pulsing through Dan.

Phil's tone made him angry.

Phil had nothing to be mad, or sad, or worried about.

"Don't worry about it." Dan said sharply, pursing his lips. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

Phil shut his eyes tight for one, two, three seconds before standing up and unfurling his wings in one slick motion. He looked at Dan softly and apologetically.

Dan refused to look back.

"I understand," The simple phrase flowed off of Phil's tongue gracefully before taking off with him into the air. Dan's eyes popped open as Phil's wind engulfed him. His white-hot gaze burned into the dirt between his knees. A whistle blew just a few moments later, dismissing the students from another treacherous day at school.

As Dan walked through the woods, his mind became incredibly clear, as if he was completely devoid of thought. He let his vision blur as he walked and stretched his hands outward to feel the breeze wafting through the forest floor.