Sticky Notes - Phan One Shot

Sticky Notes - One Shot

A/N: this is a very domestic and fluffy one shot, written in the point of view of Dan. No warnings, there are literally no negative things in this story. Hope you enjoy!

Every morning Phil gets up before me; he goes to the kitchen, has a quick breakfast, then he gets dressed and goes out - for work, to get something from the supermaket or any other reason. He's never out for a long time, usually he gets back right after I had breakfast. But here's the thing: I hate having breakfast al alone. Phil knows it. I hate it, cause it makes me feel lonely and it's not a great way to start the day off. The first time he left while I was asleep, I woke up and reached out for his hand beside me on the bed, and found nothing but the cold sheets. Long story short, he ended up finding me curled up in a corner crying because I thought he left me. After that infamous incident, Phil had a wonderful idea: since then, every time he left the house while I was still asleep he would leave sticky notes everywhere. One beside me on the bed, where he should have been; one on the bedroom's door; one on the corridor's wall; a couple on the fridge, and so on. I find it extremely cute, and then I have at least a piece of him while I have breakfast. The notes don't say much, usually just "I love you" and every variant of, something cute like "you look adorable when you sleep", "good morning sleepyhead!" or stufflike that, then sometimes he says where he's going, like "I'm going to get more cereal, I ate yours oops" or "I noticed there's nothing we could cook for lunch so I'm going to Tesco, be right back!". This became some kind of ritual for us, whenever he goes out without me. And for me, reading his notes in the morning became a daily routine, and also extremely important.

This morning I woke up kinda late. When I opened my eyes, the clock on the bedside table said it was 10:45. I spent five minutes staring at the ceiling rubbing my hand on the other side of the bed, missing Phil's comforting presence, when I realized. There was no sticky note. I sat up and started looking around: I checked the walls, the closed door, the wardrobe and the drawers. Nothing. He wasn't there, and he didn't leave any sticky note. A panicky feeling started to take over me, but I decided to just calm down: there could have been tons of reasons why he left without a sticky note. Maybe he was late for something. While I was trying to rationalize the whole thing, I got up and headed to the kitchen. I checked Phil's bedroom, just to make sure he wasn't in there; in fact, the bed was perfectly made and he was nowhere to be seen. While I was walking down the corridor, I glanced at both walls: still nothing. The livingroom was silent and cold, so I lit up the fireplace and walked slowly to the kitchen. There, I stood in front of the closed door: where was he? What could have possibly happened? Was he mad at me? All those thoughts filled my mind making me feel bad, while I glanced desperately around the room with the last sprinkle of hope looking for a damn sticky note. I shook my head and took a deep breath, trying to be rational. Maybe he just forgot. This thought made me even sadder. I breathe again, and rub my eyes. Okay, just go into the kitchen and eat something, then you'll call him, I say to myself. I sigh as I push the door and finally enter the kitchen.

And here he is: wearing only sweatpants and a t-shirt, leaning over the kitchen counter, cooking something that smells extremely good. "Phil!" I exclaim, feeling relieved. He turns around and smiles at me: "goodmorning, sleepy head! I made you pancakes" He laughs at my shocked face, and flips the pancake in the pan with a grin. I run into his arms, he's surprised but immediately holds me back tight, making me feel better. "I got scared, I thought you left me ... without any note. What are you doing here by the way? I thought you enjoyed your morning walks?" I say, before we loosen the hug. we drown into each other's eyes, and we both pull out a little smirk. He comes closer, until our noses touch: "I enjoy being here with you more. I love that cute face you do wen you're happy, and I love making you happy!" I'm about to reply something, when he pulls me into a soft kiss, his lips crushing against mine. "Phil," I mutter, interrupting the kiss. "You're going to burn the pancakes", I say a little concerned. He laughs: "you're such an idiot! But I love you to bits." Phil smiles at me, making me blush. I smile back and lead to the table, but stop halfway. "Oh and, Phil?" He turns around again: "yeah?" I look fondly at him, with a little loving smile on my face: "I love you more."

A/N: this is the first ever story I've published so I do accept advices but please be kind with me for I am soft. THANK YOU ALL ILY <3