Internet Friends | Dan Howell x Reader

Who You Used To Be

Shakespeare is going to kill me. Why do I care about a bunch of people dying in some made up (lame) story damnit?! I don't! Old English sucks. I 'm dying.

Enjoy!

Dan's POV

It's been 3 days. 3 damn days. (y/n) has been distant, like we had only just met for the first time, which I guess was sort of true. I had never seen this side of her before. It's like we didn't know each other like we used to. She used to come round practically everyday, whether it was just to lay around or actually do something. Now I hadn't seen her in 3 days. No one has. I was actually leaving the flat for the first time in the past 3 days. Phil had convinced me to get out and go to Starbucks, mainly because he needed some, but even I knew it would be good for me. I hurried down the stairs and to Starbucks, not really paying attention to anything going around me.

I opened the door to the warm shop, the smell of coffee rather strong. I ordered 2 coffees, one for each of us, and headed towards the door only to see her. She was sat with Starbucks in hand on a bench in a small, snowy park. She was writing in a familiar notebook, her idea notebook, which she usually used for dances. She had huddled her legs under her body, as she tended to do, to keep warm. Even in the puffy jacket and sweatpants she looked gorgeous. Soft snow clumped up in her hair, rosy cheeks, and pale complexion. She was scribbling furiously, tapping her phone every once in a while. She must be choreographing.

I was tempted to approach her, but I knew I would be torturing myself. She tapped her phone again, closing the notebook and tucking it under her arm. She picked up her still steaming coffee and looked around her to regain consciousness of where she was. She stood and glanced in my direction. As if they had a mind of their own, my legs began to move, pushing me through the door. She plugged in her earbuds, which had fallen, and started to walk away, bobbing her head. I called to her, but she didn't respond. The music Dan, the music. I pulled out my phone and texted her.

Stop!

She did, glancing around her until she spotted me. I crossed the street and she waited for me. I could tell she was wearing a semi-fake smile, but I didn't confront it.

"Hey, I saw you in the park when I  went to get coffee" I said, holding up the 2 cups. She nodded, not saying anything.

"What's wrong? Why aren't you talking?" I asked, looking at her. She looked back at me and let out a breath. She pulled out her phone and I watched her, extremely confused.

I have laryngitis. I keep losing my voice on and off

Even over text I could tell she was fed up with the sickness. And terse towards me. She hasn't even mentioned Zoe's party and she claims that she's 'just had a realization' when Phil asks her about it.

"tHis is As best as I cAn d-" she cut her raspy voice off with a cough, her hand resting on her neck in discomfort. Her voice was squeaky, but you could tell she was ill. I always hate seeing her in pain and that's all I see now. She pulled out her phone to text me again.

I have to go home and get ready for teaching, which will be a pain in the ass, but I can manage. You and Phil enjoy your coffee

I looked down at the text and read it. I looked up to respond only to see that she was already gone.  I glanced around for her, but she was gone.

How had I lost her so easily? And I'm not talking about now. I missed her. The old (y/n). The one that always laughed at my jokes even if they were terrible. The one that blushed when I complimented her. The one I'm in love with.

She's just up and gone. She can't even look at me now and I don't know what to do. I'm just trapped. I trudged back to the flat and opened the door. Phil took the coffee from me, licking his lips. He smiled until he looked up at my face.