Ignorance {phan}

1

  The friends who stuck together, we wrote our names in blood  

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"Get the fuck out of my apartment!" Dan sobbed, his cold and unusually pale skin on his cheeks were coated in warm tears. Phil had really fucked up this time. Not only had he come home at three in the morning when he was supposed to be back from a meet up with some friends at ten, he had the gumption to show up drunk out of his mind and with a fresh mark of red lipstick on his neck. When Dan questioned the lateness and the mark on his neck with a quiet and cracking voice, Phil laughed, telling him that he was insignificant in his life that he would nowhere in life if he couldn't grow up and man up. That alone was enough for Dan to want Phil kicked out to the curb, but it escalated when Dan reached to rest his hand lazily on Phil's arm, something they did frequently. Phil pushed Dan's hand off in one quick motion and his hand was making an audible connection with his cheek and jaw bones. He stumbled back, his small hand gripping the throbbing area, glaring up at Phil with eyes that were fueled by fire and rage. And that's where they were right now. 

Phil just stood, his mouth opening to argue his kicking out, but closed it again to put a small smirk on his face, "It's not your apartment, sweetheart. I pay the rent here unless you forgot that I am actually successful in my career unlike you."

Dan balled his empty hand up in a fist at his side, using every muscle in his body to keep himself from punching Phil square in the jaw because he knew that Phil was stronger and bigger than him and would take him out in one punch. "I don't care if you pay the rent. You don't get to walk into this household with hickeys and alcohol pouring out of your body. So, either you leave right now and sober up and come back tomorrow with some explanations or I am walking out of that door right now and not coming back, ever again."

"Then leave. I don't care about you. I never did, and no one ever will." Phil hissed, shoving his way past Dan into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Dan's mouth fell to the ground as he stared ahead in disbelief, tears welling up again. His throat began to close up, his entire body heating up until he exploded, sobs after sobs wracking his body as he grabbed a baggy jacket and his phone, walking out of the apartment with a loud slam of the door. 

Dan's hand still clutched his jaw as he walked down the empty night streets of London, tears glimmering in the streetlights, strangers passing by taking notice of the broken boy. He had nowhere to go, nothing to eat, no money, no friends. Dan was fucked. That's what caused the second wave of sobs, his body shaking to the point that he could no longer walk. Phil was right. All of his 'friends' were Phil's friends from Uni and would obviously side with him in an instant. His very small income went to groceries and there was no chance in hell that he would go back to that place. Phil carried him through everything. And now, he dropped him without a net to catch him. Dan was falling and falling fast.