***Phil's POV***
When I wake up, a piercing odor makes me cringe. It smells like smoke, and it's coming from the kitchen. I pull myself up from the couch, and walk to the kitchen, rubbing my blotchy eyes.
I see Dan flipping a pancake, and failing at that. There's smog rising from the pan, and he's covering his nose.
"Dan? What on Earth are you doing?"
He looks at me, and he instantly reminds me of a puppy. "I'm making pancakes. But, you weren't supposed to know until I had finished..." he forces a spatula under the burnt dough, and flops it onto a nearby plate. "There. All done." He turns off the stove and hands me a plate with a partly brown, partly wet, pancake.
I take it, "You and pancakes, I swear."
"Huh?" he asks, taking his own plate into his grasp.
"Nevermind. How'd you know how to make pancakes?" I ask, remembering he didn't even know how to cook speghetti.
He grins, holding food in his cheeks, "The power of the internet!"
I cringe after the first bite. "What time is it?" I ask, pulling open the fridge door and grabbing a water bottle.
"About noon." Dan finished the last of his pancake and looks at my barely nibbled one, "You gonna eat that?"
"Uh, here." I say, handing him my plate. "Why do I keep sleeping in so late..." I mutter, under my breath.
I take a sip of water, letting the cold liquid settle in my mouth before swallowing. Dan's washing some of the dishes and humming a tune that I can't recall.
I start to think about what had happened yesterday, the things we said, the things I did. I remembered him holding me, comforting me, telling me he needed me...
And the way he kissed my cheek last night.
He thought I was sleeping, but still.
What happens now?
What happens if he never gets his memory back?
Dan turns around, wiping his hands on his pants. He's wearing sweat pants and an old T-shirt that is way too big. I can tell that his hair is dripping in the back, so he must've showered. He looks at me, around the kitchen. "This is weird, isn't it?"
I try to raise my eyebrows, "What is?"
"This." He motions his arms toward our surroundings.
"Please elaborate." I say cooly, stealing a gulp from my water bottle. I rest against the counter behind me.
He's going to leave.
This is all too much.
"Eh. Maybe later." Dan shrugs and ruffles his bangs.
I frown, "What? You can't just-"
"I don't want to argue, Phil. Besides, I was only thinking out loud."
"Why would we argue?" I ask, setting down my bottle.
"Because that's what we always do when I try to talk about-" he pauses and points his finger on his temple, "About us."
"Us? So, now there's an Us to talk about?"
His expressions becomes almost angry "You're the one who said all that stuff yesterday."
"You said just as much." I try to look down at him, but he towers over me.
"See what I mean?" His face loosens. "I don't know what you know- and until I do, just give me a break. I hate fighting with you."
