Internet Friends | Dan Howell x Reader

Mementos

Hi.

:D

I hate annotated bibliographies!

Enjoy~

Dan's POV

I watched Phil's face go over a range of emotions as he texted someone, most likely (y/n).

"Phil stop it you're annoying." I said. He glanced up at me with a sad look. It was definitely clear that he didn't like how everything was now nor did he approve of my attitude. Viewers were suspicious of our sad banter and distance. 

"What?"

"All those faces." I said. I didn't know how I felt anymore. It was a shit fest.

"Sorry." he muttered, burying his face back in his phone. It was clearly (y/n) on the other end of that conversation and I don't care about her anymore. Right? He had been talking to her for the past 2 days ever since the afternoon she responded.

"Why do you talk to her so much? She clearly wants to be left alone or else she wouldn't be in hiding." I complained.

"She's not in hiding. Or at least not from me." he said, relaxing back.

"So why don't you just go to her. God." I sassed.

"I can't!" he said, sulking.

"And why's that??"

"Because she's in America dipshit!" he snapped, standing up and storming off to his room. (I feel like shit is okay for Phil now since the video. Dan said Phil swore in front of him all the time so.)

She's where?

I glanced down at my hands, my face solemn. Did she really have to go that far away from me? I stood up and slipped my shoes on, taking a walk to her place. She still kept a key in the light fixture near her door, and I remember it was because of an episode of friends she watched when she was younger. I unlocked the door and let myself in. The flat was empty, obviously, and dark, very untouched in the last few days.

WHERE ARE YOU?!

I ignored Phil's message and ventured in. Her TV remotes and blankets were stacked neatly on the ottoman, and a few books were stacked on the side table near her couch. She always had OCD like that, making sure everything stayed even. I walked over to her kitchen which was clean and tidy like the rest of her house. I headed into her room last. There were a few items here and there that seemed out of place, most likely from her hurried packing to get out of here. 

It was quiet and boring, more books on her table. Her phone and charger had obviously gone with her, so I wasn't surprised to see them gone from their usual spot. I sat down on the bed, laying in the spot opposite to hers. She always had to sleep on the (r/l) side. I sunk into her mattress and sighed at the familiar feeling. I hadn't been in this bed with her in so long, but just laying here made me feel like I was.

There was a shoe box, decorated with little doodles, sat on her bed along with a few other things she must've forgotten to put back in her closet. I felt the urge to look in the box, and I knew it was snooping, but I opened it anyway. The contents weren't neat like the rest of her home, little papers and things piled into the cardboard container. It was definitely a memento box from her life of little things she needed to keep with her. There were many movie ticket stubs and there was a photo of her and her family at her high school graduation and one of her and her mom at some ice cream shop. A miniature album for Polaroid photos of her in Halloween rested next to them. Each one was dated and one when she was 4 caught my eye. She was dressed as Winnie the Pooh, holding a plastic pumpkin in her yellow fluffy paw with a grin on her face. I smiled and set it aside. There was a mint green Polaroid in the box with film still unused. I had no idea she was into photos like that.

Why had she kept that from me?

There was a rock in the shape of heart, it must've had significance to her of course. Along side it, a post it note with a funny doodle of a duck. I had no idea she was this sentimental. There was a ragged bunny, old from her childhood, with a blue and purple checkered ribbon loose around it's neck in that box. Glassy black beads stared up at me and I set it aside, wondering what its name was. Knowing (y/n), it most definitely had a name.

There were a few papers with little note and such, random things until I stopped to look at a slightly faded receipt. It was signed in pen by a woman named Jem, in swirled cursive, and I stared at the order.

1 latte and a caramel macchiato from that coffee shop.

She kept this? She took the time to swipe the receipt from the counter before I could get it to save it the first time she met me? We weren't even dating yet. She didn't even know me, but assumed we'd be great friends in the future. I felt an ache in my chest and I dropped the receipt. 

She kept it.

She thought meeting me was important enough to go in this box.

She wanted to remember that forever.

I felt my eyes burn with tears and I gently picked up the receipt, tucking it in my wallet for when I see her. I have to go find her.

I do care.

I care so goddamn much.

She cares.

I felt tears spill down my face as I left, closing the box and leaving it how it was before. I ran down the steps, sobbing and not caring if anyone could see me. I said those things. Things I thought I meant, but didn't. And she's in America because of me.

I don't deserve it.

Half of me urges to stay and let her live a life better than what I've given. The other urges to find her and end all of this. I pushed past people and back to my flat where Phil was waiting with crossed arm and a scowl. He opened his mouth to say something, but he noticed me crying.

"Dan what the he--"

"Phil, I need to get to America." I said. He stared at me confused, but agreed, getting me further into the flat.

"Wait, what prompted this?"

"Did you  know she keeps a box of important things in her life she wants to remember?" I asked.

"You broke in and looked through her stuff?!" he asked.

"Look Phil." I held out the paper now slightly crinkled and he looked it over.

"This is a receipt for coffee."

"When I met her Phil." I said and he stared at me for another moment before his eyes went wide.

"She really kept this?" he asked and I nodded, before he handed it back to me.

"Don't tell her I'm coming I want her to realize I thought of it on my own and you're not making me." I said, and he nodded. He pulled out his laptop for flights and I went to back a small bag with enough to live for 3 days.

"You good? The next flight is in the morning." Phil said, "And do you know where you're going?" I nodded, remembering that she talked about visiting her mom before. I had kept the address in mind and written it down so that I might surprise her someday, and I suppose it's now. "Good luck and bring her back please."

"I will."

Oof.
Stay awesome!
~Calymari