Intoxicate (phan)

3- smoke

dan gulped when he noticed that marcus had left the room. he was supposed to deal with this on his own? he huffed, taking a moment to organise his thoughts. "phil, listen, i'm sorry that i'm late and i missed your call. the day went so quickly, but i know it's my fault. i'm going to fix all my mistakes, i'm going to make it up to you, okay? you can count on me, i promise. just, please, please stop breaking stuff."

"sorry doesn't make it better."

"i know, trust me, i know—"

"then why are you fucking saying it?" phil yelled, throwing wine glasses at the floor before moving to a stack of china plates.

"because i don't know what to say," dan finally cracked, yelling twice as loud as phil.

"then how about you just leave? that's what you always do!" phil's voice rose even higher, in an attempt to compete with dan's.

dan sighed, tempted by the option. but he quickly chastised himself; he couldn't always take the easy road. "tell me why you're angry," he demanded, in a normal pitch voice.

"i don't fucking want to. i want you to leave."

"well, guess what? you don't have a choice. i've told you every single little thing about myself that you've asked about, things i'm embarrassed and ashamed of. the least you can tell me is what's wrong with you."

"what's wrong is that i'm getting married," phil screeches, throwing another plate before knocking over a couple of chairs. "you want an invite?"

dan stopped thinking for a moment. it took almost half a minute, where phil continued to break things, when an idea finally came to him. he bent down and picked up a plate that was mostly still intact. and then, he threw it to the floor as forcefully as he could, before stomping on the shards on the floor, breaking them into even smaller pieces. he helped phil finish the stack of plates he'd started and then looked around the kitchen for more things to break.

by this point, phil was just standing there, panting as he watched dan work.

"there's nothing else in here, let's go to the lounge," dan said, feeling energised as he dragged phil into the living room. he spotted a mug on the coffee table and threw it at the floor, once again, jumping on the pieces. "should we go for the tv or would marcus get pissed? actually, who cares about marcus?"

"dan what are you doing?" phil asked quietly, as he stood completely still in the middle of the room.

"i'm trying to break this tv."

"yeah, why?"

"'cause i'm angry."

"why?"

finally, all the cords were disconnected and dan started trying to get his arms around the entire flat screen. "because," he said in between pants. "i'm an idiot attention-seeker, who thinks the best way to deal with his problems is to waste hundreds of pounds."

dan had finally managed to pick up the tv, but was unable to move it, because he could barely keep his grip on it. "uh, phil, i'm not strong enough, you're going to have to help me."

"help you what?"

"put down the tv!" dan yelled when he noticed his grip on the tv was slipping.

"what are you–"

"oh my god, i wasn't actually going to break it, i was just trying to scare you. shit," dan whined when phil stood there staring. "help me put it down before i break it for real."

phil immediately ran over and put his hands over dan's. together they carefully manoeuvred the tv back onto the stand.

once he was able to let go, dan sighed in relief and shook out his hands. and then, he lightly punched phil's chest. "what kind of idiot would let a crazy person break their flat screen, and stand there watching?!"