incandescent » phan

•two•

The light spreads up his legs and torso making its way to each of his fingertips before engulfing his head and shoulders. Dan feels dizzy, and the look on Phil's face shows a mixture of disbelief and something bordering on fright. His glow is a dark purple edged with a deep red. Dan assumes it means something bad. Fear, perhaps.

"Did I—did I do that?" Phil questions, his voice raw with disbelief.

"I don't know. You had to have—oh, my God," Dan says, his voice coming out as an incredulous whisper. He can't stop looking at his hands splayed out before him. They seem almost iridescent as they catch the light. He looks at Phil. 

"Who—are you? How did this happen?" Phil doesn't meet his eyes for a moment, seemingly preoccupied with knitting his brow at the pavement. After a bit, however, his sky-blue irises meet Dan's brown ones.

"I don't know how it happened. I just bumped into you and there you are, glowing," he responds, eyebrows still furrowed. 

"But what does this mean? Is something going to happen to me now?" Dan's questions flow out of him, and he's surprised at how unafraid he is when he speaks to Phil. With most people, even ones he knows, his social awkwardness is so painful that he can't go beyond eye contact.

"I'm not sure. It has to mean something. You weren't glowing until I touched you," Phil says, going over the facts. He suddenly brightens (both literally and figuratively).

"Hey! Maybe it means we're supposed to be super close! Like best friends! Isn't that cool?" 

Something else flashed through Dan's mind at the words super close, but he mentally tosses that idea. It's just weird. After all, he's only known Phil for five minutes. How could they be destined to be...that? He frowns at his reddening glow. It won't be so easy to hide how he's feeling anymore. Phil seems to be a very decent person, however, and Dan can't help liking his big smile and enthusiastic ways, although he's only just met the boy.

"Yeah, pretty cool," he says, grinning ear to ear for the first time in years.

"Well, potential best friend," Phil says, slinging his arm around Dan, "I think we should talk some more. We've got some things to work out."

Dan stiffens when Phil touches him. It's out of habit. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Phil exclaims, quickly extracting his arm. "I guess I'm just always like that."

Dan smiles at his rambling.

"It's all right."

***

Phil leads (okay, drags) Dan to a Starbucks about a block away from the retail store. As he tries to keep up with Phil's enthusiastic pace, he types a text message to his mother with his free hand. 

May be home a little later. I have to tell you something when I get there.

He presses send and hopes for the best.

Text Message from Mum

All right. Be safe.

Thank goodness. He had been hoping she wouldn't ask any questions. As he clicks off his screen, Phil goes on another high-speed ramble about the Starbucks they were going to to talk about "life and other stuff," as he puts it. Dan marvels at Phil's inability to do anything halfway—he's practically running as words spill out his mouth just as fast as his feet move. What a workout.

They approach the door and Phil pumps his fist delightedly. "We're gonna have so much fun!" he cries. Dan smiles despite himself. It's impossible to feel sad when around Phil—he's just so cheery.