Dan and Phil Imagines

Treasure Hunt

~A/N~ Hey guys! So this is the first of my prompted imagines, using the prompt of an antique locket. Enjoy!

Emily :P

 "OUCH!"

You rub your head, cursing under your breath with a cringe.

"Y/N, you okay?" comes Phil's voice from another room.

"I'm fine, keep looking!" you shout back, crawling out from under the table.

Perhaps some explanation would help: your grandmother died recently, and in her will she left you her locket. It was a thing of true beauty, you had always coveted it. Every time you visited her, down to her final days, you would ask her to get out the locket for you to look at; she called it 'The Lover's Heart'; you simplified this to 'The Love Locket'. She told you that it was made by the fairies from the soul of a man who had died to his sweetheart to remind her of him, and that anyone who wore it would be blessed with a true love. She was wearing it when she met your grandfather. Batty old woman. You would spend hours gazing at it, admiring everything about it. On a long, old gold chain, so dark it's almost brassy in colour, it is suspended. The locket itself is the same antique gold; delicate filigree cage, set against iridescent peacock-hued enamel. The clasp itself was a thing of wonder, so incredibly detailed, on the side of the circular locket.

And now you've lost it. It has only been in your house for five hours and already it seems to have disappeared. You were admiring yourself wearing it, marvelling at its beauty, when Phil called over, as he often does, for cake. That guy has a thing about cake.

Having finished his cake, Phil (like any small child) started looking for something to do, asking you questions and getting fidgety. After a few minutes of this, you got around to the subject of your grandmother's locket. Naturally, he was interested in seeing it, so you went to retrieve it.

It wasn't on your dressing table.

At first this didn't worry you, you'd probably left it on the windowsill.

Nope.

Panic started to creep into the corners of your mind.

After looking through your drawers, bathroom and handbag, you concluded that you had, in fact, lost it.

Naturally calm and rational, you did what any sane adult would do: you screamed for Phil and started hyperventilating.

 "Calm down!" he'd said, over and over again. How the hell did he expect you to calm down when the most expensive and beautiful thing that you owned was somehow missing?! Did he have no concept of how vital finding this locket was?! Had he gone completely insane?!

No, wait, that was you.

Phil assured you that together you would be able to find the locket and that everything would be alright. A few deep breaths later, you calmed down and started to believe him.

One and hour and forty-five minutes later, you're not feeling so calm anymore. In fact you feel quite the opposite. You feel desperate. Frantic. And above all, you feel like a complete and utter berk. How could you be so careless?! This is all your fault.

Having exhausted your search of the living room, you join Phil's efforts in the bedroom (stop this reader).

 "Any luck?" you ask hopefully; you know the answer even before he shakes his head. He would have called you had he found anything.

 "Sorry. I've only checked the bookcase and desk so far, though, there's still a chance it's in here!"

You take deep, calming breaths, and crawl over to the other side of the room.