they lie under fresh cotton sheets that night, and phil feels the cool, blue-smelling fabric bore into his cheek.
"what happened?" dan's words are thrown into the air between them before softly thudding onto the pillows.
"i could ask you the same thing."
"you didn't have anything you were allergic to, and you don't have a fever," dan thinks aloud. "i guess we'll see how you feel in the morning."
phil doesn't exactly feel sick, but his mind feels like it's burning up. "love me," he says, hardly knowing what to think anymore.
"phil, you're still weak, i—"
"love me." again, more insistently.
no words. just sounds.
YOU ARE READING
pretend you're awake » phan
Fanfiction❝everything's got a reason, dan.❞ ❝not this. not this, phil.❞ in which phil is being killed from the inside out. lowercase intended.
