phil. my mother was not home tonight.
she usually wasn't, and it usually didn't matter, but i also usually wasn't expecting my best friend to show up in my doorway at two in the morning.
i'd called dan impulsively, after weeks of careful deliberation.
he'd put his number in my phone weeks ago, but i'd not once used it, not until tonight. this house had just felt so empty, the noise so loud. so i did the only thing i could think of: i called him.
i don't think i expected him to pick up.
but he did.
after he had hung up, i had hurried down the stairs and parked myself on the couch, ears straining, jumping at every sound that might have been him. by the time i'd realized i'd forgotten to get dressed and was wearing nothing but boxers and a raggedy hoodie, it was too late: there was already a loud knock on the door, one that resonated through the empty foyer.
i jumped, pushing myself off the couch and shuffling over to the door, socked feet sliding across the spotless linoleum under foot.
as i pull the door open, a blast of freezing air swirls in, and i shiver.
"opening doors for strangers now?"
dan's voice is warm and crackly and i feel my face split into a grin, step back to let him.
"i'm trying new things."
the door slides shut behind him, and i reach out hesitantly, settle my hand on his arm.
"it's way past your bedtime y'know. you shouldn't be up."
he laughs, picking up my hand and cradling it between his.
"sorry. some hooligan called me and disturbed my sleep."
his fingers are ice cold, and i can feel them shaking slightly around my own. i frown.
"you're freezing. i'm sorry. it's so cold outside. you walked all that way for me."
"worth it for you."
i can feel his eyes on me.
i shake my head, scoffing.
"come on, let's get you warmed up."
i intertwine my fingers with his and pull him out of the foyer. he follows behind me complacently, and my heart beats furiously in my chest. i'm nervous, and i don't know why. we hang out, all the time. we're hardly ever apart, but for some reason, this feels different. this feels like he's snuck out of his house in the middle of the night and walked through the freezing weather just to keep me company. this feels like maybe i want to kiss him. but i won't.
when my feet bump into the couch, i pause, lower myself onto it, pat the spot next to me. he sits down, but he's so far away. i reach out hesitantly.
"dan?"
"yeah?"
"you're so far."
"do you want me to come closer."
"yes."
he laughs, and the sound melts the air around us. i can hear the late hour of the night in our voices, in our simplified conversations, but that doesn't matter.
we don't need words.
i hear him shuffling, feel his leg press up against mine, his head drop onto my shoulder, and i laugh out loud, eyes sliding shut.
"what?"
"nothing. you'll think it's stupid."
"no i won't."
"i just got so happy... i couldn't keep it inside. i had to laugh."
"phil?"
"yeah?"
"that's so cute. you're so cute. "
"i... thank you for coming."
"you couldn't keep me away if you tried."
the cool hours of the night slide by on that couch, with his head on my shoulder, listening to the sound of his heartbeat under his skin.
my fingers gravitate up, tracing his arms, and then his jaw, and then his lips, sleepy, and curious, until i feel him shiver under my touch, and then i'm not sleepy at all.
"is this okay?"
i want to know what he looks like.
my fingers trace the curve of his lips, and i can feel the sound of his voice when he responds, barely even a whisper.
"yes."
so my fingers continue, soft and curious, tracing the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones, his eyelids, painting pictures in the back of my head.
"pretty."
i feel his cheeks turn rose pink under my fingers, and i smile softly, sleepily.
"when do you need to go home?"
"wanna stay here."
"okay."
and at the sound of my soft words, i hear his breathing slow, feel him relax against me, hands curled up into my shirt.
"goodnight dan."
hello hello two parter for you because . idk. i'm such a professional and skilled author. chugging along
