Bubblegum Bitch

Kiss Me Like The World Is Gonna Disappear

*TW: mentions of rape, and violent assault*
Dan

I wake up to a strong pair of arms around me, and my face buried into a familiar tattooed chest. He smells slightly like old books, but strangely like leather. I think he realizes I'm awake, because his arms disappear from around me, and he rolls over onto his back.

     "No no no, come back, I was warm." I whine, hearing him laugh softly.

   "Okay, okay."

   He rolls back over, and takes me in his arms again. I hum in content softly as he nuzzles his face into my neck.

       "I'm tired." Phil sighs, and I assume attempts to go back to sleep.

"Did you sleep last night?" I ask worriedly.

"Sorta." He mumbles, warm breath on my neck.

"What do you mean 'sorta', I have sleep aids if you need some."

     "Dan, I'm fine love."

    I feel the heat rise to my cheeks at the name of affection.

"Are you sure?" I ask intently.

"Yes I'm sure." He laughs softly, still not reassuring me.

As we lay in morning tiredness and bliss, I feel his breathing start to even out, as he falls asleep again. As the older punk clings to my side, I run my hand gently through his raven-black hair. The locks of hair are soft, and I see the slight ginger roots of his hair. He sighs in content as I do so. He's so beautiful like this, not stressed or anything. Just peaceful, his usual worried face, gone.

I press a gentle kiss to his forehead, as I continue to run my hand through his hair. Honestly, I'm content just laying like this forever. No worries, just a constant love. The way the gold early morning light funnels itself through the blinds. Maybe the way it goes across the white bedsheets, creating a gold shade across our sleeping figures. Whatever the think may be, it makes me want to stay like this forever.

As my phone starts to ring, I see Phil wake up suddenly, I begin mentally curse out my phone. He looked so cute sleeping. I just don't answer it, it's a unknown answer and it's most likely a sales call, so what's the point.

"What time is it?" He asks, voice hoarse from sleep.

"10am," I pause to get up, "I'm going to make breakfast, what do you want?"

   "Anything really, I'll come with." Phil says, while rolling out of bed.

    We both make our way towards the kitchen, where I begin making scrambled eggs, as he does his usual thing of sitting on my kitchen table. I see his eyes peering at my arms, why did I take off that hoodie? The scars are a slight purple color, not fading to white yet, unfortunately. The purple words of 'slut' and 'whore' immortalized across my skin.

I remember the blade..the man..the needle. With his black hair..green eyes. I remember his hands on me. They were rough, not smooth, and weren't gentle either. Suddenly, I can't breathe. I can't breath. My hands go to my throat, the feeling of hands across them. I'm back at the bar. He's gonna hurt me. Oh my god I'm gonna die. My chest hurts, I'm crying.

I feel myself hit a floor, and a somewhat yell from another voice. Phil.

"Dan, it's okay. It's okay."

That's the last thing I hear before I black out.

Phil

That's the first panic attack I've ever seen him have, and if I told you I wasn't scared. I would be lying to you. I sit beside where I laid him in bed, stroking his soft brown curls of hair softly. At first, he looks around in confusion, most likely not remembering what happened right away. Then it hits him, and it sends him over the edge.

   He doesn't talk, just cries silently, and that's when I realize what I have to do. I grab him a random black hoodie, well it's mine, and pass it to him. I watch him put it on quickly, and managing to bury himself in it. The hoodie itself is like 3 sizes to big on him, and I can't lie and say it's not adorable. Although considering the circumstances, I'm not as focused on that as I am other things.

   "Hey Dan, are you okay?" I coo softly to the younger boy.

   He shakes his head quickly, scooting over for me to sit beside him. Which obviously I do. I sit there as he moves slowly towards me, crawling into my lap, and burying his face between my collarbone and neck.

    "I love you." I whisper quietly to the sobbing boy.

   As I quietly rock back and forth, painfully listening to his choked and panicked sobs, I realize what I need to say.

   "Hey Dan, it's okay, to feel sad. Everything you are feeling, it's okay. You shouldn't be afraid to talk about things, because then you hold it in and this stuff happens. I'm trying to be here for you, but you gotta let me before stuff like this happens, love."

    "I don't want to be like this." He cries out, voice hoarse from crying.

   "You can't change the past, but you can change your future." I reassure him, before he starts to fall asleep.

    Panic attacks can make you tired, I'm no stranger to them, I know this. Apparently they make Dan tired too. In no time his sobs have traded themselves for quiet breathing, and me trying to figure out what to do with the sleeping boy.

    I settle for my best idea, which is laying back and letting him lay on top of me.

    "I love you." He mumbles, from I assume his sleep.

    "I love you too, Dan."